Page 10 of The Facilitator, Part 3

“If you allow two hundred pounds, I’ll make sure she has all she needs,” I was told.

“Perfect, thank you.”

I then called my favorite store. I ordered some items and to be sent over to the hotel and gave instructions for the boxes to be left in our bedroom.

Spontaneity was something I loved. It kept us both on our toes where our relationship was concerned and after her heartache, I wanted Lauren to have a wonderful weekend.

I had no plans beyond that evening but would ask the concierge if we could get tickets to the Tutankhamun exhibition that was currently fully booked and she’d expressed an interest in.

It was also part of number one on her list.

I headed to the garages and pressed for the doors to open.

Black was the selection for that day. I opened the trunk of my Aston Martin and placed our bags in.

I cursed, having to fold my suit carrier.

Although I had the two Bentleys on order, I’d never get rid of my Astons.

They were quintessentially British and I loved them .

If I’d forgotten anything, I was sure we could buy it somewhere.

I climbed in the driver’s seat and started the engine, feeling the vibrations under my feet.

I revved the engine and smiled. I’d always been a gearhead but then my smile slipped.

Being a drunk and high gearhead is what caused my fertility problems as well as killed my friend.

I paused, letting the engine idle. I shook my head; I couldn’t go back to those thoughts.

I drove to the hotel and checked in. I unpacked our bags, and left the unopened boxes on the bed. Those would be for Lauren to open. A knock on the door startled me. I opened it and was presented with a Berkeley bag that contained the makeup I’d ordered. I thanked and tipped the shopper.

I ordered champagne to be brought to the room later and breakfast in the morning. The suite had a sitting room, a bedroom with large en suite, and a terrace that looked out over the rooftops of London. What I wanted to see, and was pleased to, was a daybed and a firepit.

Once I was satisfied with the suite, I relaxed.

I took a shower and changed into my suit, leaving my jacket and tie for when I was ready to meet Lauren.

I opened my laptop and checked in with her driver.

I smiled as the image of a red car bleeping on the tracker.

I knew he’d arrived to collect her. He’d been given instructions to tell her to head to the bar .

I was going to recreate the first night I met her since it was the anniversary of that date.

I waited until I knew she’d be there and I ignored my cell, knowing that she’d messaged and tried to call. I smiled as I headed to the bar.

She was sitting on a stool, although she hadn’t ordered herself a drink. She saw me walk in and smiled, then frowned when I ignored her and took a stool a couple down.

The barman approached her. “What can I get you?” he asked.

She looked at me and although I stared back, I didn’t reply. She had frowned but then I thought she understood. A slow smile began to form.

“What do you suggest?” she asked.

“We have some nice wines. I can recommend a blush.” He held up a bottle for her to look at.

“Have the lady try a Redbreast 21 Year Old over ice,” I said. I stood from my stool and walked to the one next to her. “May I?” I asked.

She bit down on her lower lip, trying to contain her laughter. I didn’t wait for her answer. I removed my jacket and hung it over the back of the stool and sat.

“I’ll have one of those as well,” I said, watching the barman pour the whiskey.

I waited until she sipped. “Tell me what you taste,” I asked .

The barman watched us. “Ma’am, if you need me, I’ll just be here,” he said, and I smiled at him. I was impressed with his concern and also impressed that he genuinely thought we’d just met.

“It’s sweet and spicy at the same time,” she said, and I actually couldn’t remember what she’d said at the time, but I thought it was close.

“What else?”

“Smooth, like you,” she said, licking the whiskey from her lower lip. I stared at that lip.

“It’s a fine whiskey, one of my favorites,” I said. “So, why are you sitting her all alone?” I asked.

“I’ve been stood up. I was meeting someone off Tinder. I guess they lied when they said they could afford to take me to The Berkeley,” she said, making a sad face.

“Then I’m glad I can, and I’m here,” I replied, leaning a little closer to her.

“Mackenzie Miller,” I offered. “And you are?”

“Lauren Miller. How funny that we share the same surname,” she said, with her eyes wide.

“I wonder what other things we share. Perhaps the same tastes in the bedroom,” I whispered.

“Well, I have no idea what you mean, Mr. Miller.” She sat back a little and raised her glass to her lips.

“Are you happily married?” I asked, staring at the rings on her finger .

“Absolutely, Mr. Miller.”

“I’m glad to hear that. However, perhaps you’d do me the honor and dine with me tonight.”

“I’m not sure what my husband would think,” she said, looking shocked.

“You could always ask him,” I said, I slid my cell toward her.

She picked it up and then my hand. She needed my thumb to access it. Static coursed over my skin as she held my thumb to the phone. She scrolled. Typed a message and then rifled in her bag for her own cell.

“I have a hall pass, Mr. Miller,” she said, and I chuckled. “Although only for you, only ever for you.”

By now the barman understood, he chuckled as he dried the glass and I gave him a wink.

“Would you like to take my arm, Mrs. Miller?” I asked, standing and putting on my jacket. I then held out my arm.

“I’d be delighted to, Mr. Miller,” she said, giggling, and I kissed her temple.

She took my arm and we walked to the dining room. She paused at the doorway and looked at me.

“Oh my God, it’s the anniversary of when we met, isn’t it?” she asked.

I smiled and nodded my head, not confessing I’d only remembered myself earlier that day. She laughed. “ Then I hope you have a wonderful evening planned for us,” she added.

“I certainly do, Mrs. Miller.”

Dinner was outstanding, as usual. I could always rely on The Berkeley for something special but we rushed through, both eager to see what the rest of the evening held.

I took her hand and led her to the elevator. She leaned close to me. “I’ve always wanted to do a lift scene,” she said, laughing. As the doors opened and a porter welcomed us in, she sighed.

We stood behind the porter and I placed her in front of me. I ran my hand over her ass, lifting her dress and reaching under. She tried to wiggle away, I held her steady.

“You always wanted to do this,” I whispered.

I ran my fingers over her panties. The elevator stopped midway to allow another American couple in.

“Going down?” he asked.

“Up,” the porter said, and smiled.

“Guess we’ll ride with you,” he said, then ushered in his wife.

Lauren and I shuffled to the corner. Still I kept brushing my fingers over her pussy. It was with a little sadness that the elevator arrived at our floor. I removed my hand and her dress fell back to her knees. She rushed from the lift and I thanked the porter .

She leaned against the wall and giggled. “Mr. Miller, whatever will my husband think?” she said.

“I think, Mrs. Miller, your husband is desperate to eat your pussy,” I said.

She gasped. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her along the corridor. I pushed her back against our door and I kissed her hard, biting at her lip and tongue. I swiped my card and opened the door. We stumbled through into the room and I kicked the door closed behind me.

She moaned as I turned her and pushed her back against the wall.

I wrenched her dress to her waist, hearing a rip and not caring.

I pushed her panties to one side and plunged my fingers into her pussy, two then three.

I twisted and pumped my hand in and out.

She rested her head back against the wall and I kissed her throat, nipping her skin until her dress began to annoy me.

I pulled my fingers out and told her to turn around.

I unzipped the dress and let it fall to her feet.

I wrapped my hand in her hair and held her head back while I pushed those fingers back inside her.

I turned her head sideways to the wall, and I kissed her neck, her cheek, behind her ear. She gasped for breath.

“I fucking love you,” I whispered, and there was a tinge of anger to my voice. My cock was so hard it was painful and all my plans went out the window.

I unzipped my pants and pulled my cock free. I pulled Lauren’s hips so she lowered her top half and placed her hands against the wall. I tore through her panties and I rubbed my cock over her opening. I plunged in, jolting her forward.

With each thrust I raised her from the floor. She cried out, panted, and threw her head back. I thrust harder. I could see her arms shake as she held herself off the wall. I knew she’d tell me to stop if she wanted to and all the time she didn’t, I fucked her more.

Fucking Lauren from behind was one of my favorite things.

I could get deep; I could hit her G-spot with ease.

I could tease her clitoris at the same time and she’d come so hard I’d feel every ripple of her muscles run up and down my cock.

She screamed out my name, her voice hoarse, and her legs shook as her orgasm ripped over her.

I held her around her waist stilling while she lowered, placing her hands on her knees.

“Don’t let me fall, Mackenzie,” she whispered.

“I’ve got you, always,” I replied.

I pulled out and picked her up. I carried her to the bedroom and gently laid her on the bed. I pulled her panties off and unclipped her bra, leaving her just in her shoes. I climbed over her body and I fucked her again.

When I came it hurt. My stomach cramped and I had to gasp to catch my breath. The pain was so very pleasurable, however .