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The Last Move free porn video
Cold bit Arianna’s face as she squinted against the sun. Gloved hands shoved into the front pockets of her puffy coat, she looked for a form in the mountains. A dot on the snow skirts, something moving in the shadowy tree stems.
Ari exhaled, steaming the crushing silence.
For three days, she’d watched the horizon. The snowmobile she’d parked next to the cabin seemed to beckon louder every sunrise.
She balled her hands into fists in her pockets. If he doesn’t come today, I move on.
Everything had to end.
*
Ari twisted in the satin sheets for the thousandth time, hammering out Plan B. It'd be harder this time, without her cellphone, but doable. She’d leave the safe house tomorrow morning. Take the bus back from the city to the airport with her fake passport, get a ticket back to the States. Tell her husband she’d entered treatment for her addiction to pills and alcohol. Refuse to tell him which one. Instead, she’d tell him she wanted a divorce.
She focused on the fan twirling lazily above her in the sneaky haze of moonlight.
They would watch her. She’d have to go to AA and NA, where they’d have someone spying on her. Maybe the spy would try to seduce her. She might play along, the clueless ex-housewife who’d wanted to forgive herself for giving up on her dreams.
Dangerous, but not as dangerous as the original plan.
Click.
Ari's veins iced at the quiet sound from the other room. Steadying her breathing, she slid her hands under the pillow beside her. Adjusted her grip on the unforgiving form of the pistol and locked her elbows. Listened hard.
Another click.
The bedroom door opened. Moonlight bent around a shadowy silhouette in the door frame.
Holding her breath, she thumbed the safety down.
“It’s me.”
Hess. She didn’t move.
“Hakuna Matata.” Their code for everything being okay.
Ari let out an exhale that made her feel forty years older. Arms relaxing, she flicked the safety back on. “Jesus Christ, Hess.”
“I’m gonna turn on the light. Take your hands off the weapon.”
Releasing it under the pillow, she sat up. Lamplight splashed through the room. She squinted, batted her hair from her face.
Evan Hess’s shoulders took up the doorway. He wore a white jacket and white snowpants. Camouflage in the snow, she realized. His deep olive skin popped against it, face expressionless.
“I didn’t hear you arrive,” she said.
“I walked.”
She rubbed her forehead as she looked at him. Seven miles through snowy mountains?
Body freezing, her heart thudded. Anyone who knew where I was could’ve done the same thing. I’d never see them coming.
Thank God it was Hess.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Ready for what?”
“To deliver your sworn statement on camera.”
She swallowed, dropping her hands to her sides to prop her up. “Now?”
“These are still working hours in the United States, Mrs Draper. It’s taken too long already to get to this point and I need to get back with your statement and put together evidence to bring this to the Attorney General.”
“The Attorney…” Her gut jolted. “Carl Devoe?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Squinting at her, he pursed his lips. “Mrs Draper—“
“It’s Ari.”
“The Attorney General is the man who will indict your husband and everyone else we find has committed conspiracy and treason against the United States. This is how it’s done.”
“Hess…” Her mouth went dry. Clearing her throat, she tugged her thin sleeves down and clutched them. Stared at the single white thread spooling from the seam and bit her lip. “Have you told him about the investigation? About me?”
“He’s aware that there is an investigation regarding possibly multiple Congressmen. I do not have to disclose you as a witness until we go to trial.”
Trial. Her head swam.
“You’re aware you’ll have to testify?”
“Devoe can’t do it.”
“Why.”
Fisting her sleeves, Ari met his coal black eyes. “He can’t prosecute himself.”
A muscle near Hess’s temple flexed. He stared at her as if she’d retract her statement.
She shut her mouth.
The fan’s hum seemed to crackle.
“Devoe is one of the most solid men I know.”
“My husband used to be for me, too.”
Sighing, Hess unzipped his jacket. Shrugged it off, revealing his black base layer underneath, and held it by the hood. His gaze was unrelenting. “I’ll be in the great room setting up the camera, Mrs Draper.”
*
“Mrs Draper, why haven’t you come forward about your husband before?”
Hess stood behind the tripod and camera stared down at her, motionless since the beginning of the interview over a half hour ago.
Sweating under her turtleneck, she wrapped her hand around the cold glass on the table and took the last sip. Cool water filled her mouth, cascaded down her throat as she swallowed.
Last question. I can do this. I can do this.
Ari looked into the blue-black lens pointed at her face. She put the cup down and clasped her fingers in her lap.
“In the beginning I was focused on my non-profit. I didn’t see Allen back slide until it was too late. With so many powerful people involved, I didn’t know who was safe to go to until I heard of Evan Hess, the man taking my statement today.
“I researched him thoroughly. Friends, family, and military history. Classified intelligence and not. He’s never had a complicated morality, even when it may have suited him to do so. It took time to build our trust, but I have no doubt he will do the right thing. Otherwise there’s no end to this for any of us.”
She felt for more words to defend herself, more to tell in case she never had another chance.
A chime rang from the video camera. Hess secured a chip from the camera and disappeared into a back room.
Exhaling, she stood. Walked to the other side of the sectional and grabbed a throw blanket. Pulling it around her arms and waist, she faced the wall of windows. Looked at her blurry reflection. The shadow pools of her eyes, the glint of inside light on the up-slope of her nose. She refocused on the beds of snow, silver in the moonlight, and the nothingness that reigned the night, the only thing that felt real.
A light beamed from the kitchen. In the window’s reflection, she saw Hess reach into the refrigerator.
He straightened. Shut the door and glanced up at her, his working hands obscured by the countertops. “It’s brave, what you did.”
“Right.” Ari focused on her own eyes again, the black abysses, and silence fell like a curtain between them. She opened her mouth. Took a breath. “We tell ourselves we’re moral people. That we know the difference between right and wrong and we fight for good. But in the end, what does it matter? Even with this, someone else is going to come into power. Who’s to say we won’t just experience the same things over again? Questionable people, replaced by questionable people. Greed and darkness have more power than we want to pretend. What does it matter, then, taking down people we know are immoral and replacing them with people who probably are?”
“The line. That’s what matters. Just as everyone has the capability of murder but we don’t allow murderers in society. Everyone gets a choice.”
Ari closed her eyes. “How very cop-like of you.”
He emitted something between a chuckle and a scoff. Ari found herself smiling. Lighter. She opened her eyes.
Hess appeared over her shoulder, handing her a beer bottle.
“Thanks.” She wrapped her hand around it.
“You’ve been inside this for so long now, maybe you don’t know how to be without it. But don’t question yourself. You did it because you’re not only a good person, you’re brave. To the point of being dangerous to yourself.”
“Yeah.” Ari wiped her finger down the cold pools of condensation on the bottle. Thought of the storage unit in Maine. “Something like that.”
She took a sip. Let the bubbles pop in her mouth, then give a hollow slosh as she put the bottle back down. Eyes burning, she stared at herself. Tried to find something alive in her ghostly face. Some semblance of the woman she used to be.
“What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know how to live anymore.” Her voice wavered. She sighed, tried to be okay with being vulnerable. Being herself. Whoever that was.
“The darkness won’t tell you.” She heard a hollow tinkle of liquid behind her and looked up in the reflection to find him looking back. “The more you search for yourself in the past, the further the future moves from your grasp.”
“Poetic.”
“It’s a gift.” He smiled. Leaned on the wall and looked out into the night.
She turned around. For the first time, she noticed how handsome he was. Flat nose, a bit too wide for his face and squared jaw. Black eyes, just big enough to keep the offset of his face. He was every man, and no man.
Like her.
“What do you recommend?” she asked.
“Always move forward. When something interests you, move toward it. You don’t have to pretend anymore.” He watched her a moment, as if trying to ingrain his words in her head. Then he clenched his jaw. Looked down at his beer. “My older brother was Devoe’s mentor when he was a baby lawyer. He came over for Thanksgivings and Christmases when my parents were still alive. We played football in the backyard. He’s been distant for a long time. I didn’t want to believe you.”
“I’m sorry.”
He looked up. Shook his head a fraction. “Everyone has a choice. Thank you, for choosing your country first. And for trusting me.”
Warmth seeped through her belly. It traversed the network of her bones and vessels, settling between her thighs.
Ari stood, keeping his gaze. She walked forward, took his beer. Crouched and put their bottles on the coffee table with a thunk. She straightened, arms to her sides. Curled her toes into the soft rug beneath them and felt naked. The way Hess’s eyes bore into hers, it was like he saw her for everything she was and everything she might be.
His lips parted and the butterflies in her stomach exploded.
“You don’t have to say yes,” she murmured. “You don’t have to say anything. I just… I’m interested.”
“Moving forward?” A lilt of humor lifted his voice.
Ari looked at his collar. Followed the white seam down his muscled arms and then the side of his torso as she grappled for words. “I feel things. But not in my spirit. Somehow, I think maybe you understand the feeling.”
When she looked up, she nearly lost her balance at the intensity in his gaze. The hunger, the compassion, the reluctance.
“Make me feel again,” she murmured.
“Mrs Draper…” A sharp breath hitched his chest, but he shook his head.
She stepped closer. Challenging him with her gaze, she hooked her fingers at his waist. Unbuttoned, unzipped. Sighing, his head tilted to the side. His tongue poked out, compressed by his lips as it slid back inside his mouth.
Ari dropped to her knees. Trembling, she slid Hess’s pants down. He didn’t move, but his breath was audible. His thickness obvious in her peripheral vision.
Ari felt her juices slick her labia.
She pulled his boxer briefs down, exposing his semi-hard dick. It was thicker than her husband’s. More real, like a promise of salvation. Ari grasped his hot, building shaft.
“Mmmm. Fuck.” His raspy groan made her lose her mind.
Mine.
Opening her lips, she moved forward. His cockhead depressed her tongue, blessing her with precum as it slid further. She opened wider and wider, packing his thickness as far as she could take it. Corkscrewed her hand up and down the exposed, galvanizing length. Felt her soaked leggings stick to her crotch as she sucked for everything she was worth, visions of his cock stretching and pounding her spurring her on.
Suddenly her scalp hurt. She became aware of her hair being pulled, the cock backing out of her thirsty, needy mouth.
Whimpering, she looked up.
“Get up,” he demanded, something about his face urgent and dark.
Hair taut, she had no choice. She pushed up onto her feet. Tongued the corner of her mouth, where she felt the trickle of saliva, and slid her hand over his wet dick.
Hess stared at her, eyes wild. Nose flaring, chest rising and falling urgently, he let her hair down. Spread it over her shoulders. Tenderly. Thoughtfully. Meeting her gaze again, he cupped her face with his fingers. Stroked the lines of her cheekbones with his thumbs.
Ari let go of his dick to slide her hands around his trim waist. Glanced at his mouth as he leaned down, then felt his lips brush hers in a featherlight kiss.
She peeked at his face under her lashes, wondering if that was it, but he was pressing toward her again and she knew.
Knew.
Everything disappeared. Potential threats, guilt, anxiety. Everything fell into the draw of his lips. The promises on his sliding tongue. The heat in his beckoning mouth. Her heart was spastic, her body pressing against his like a magnetic pull.
He broke away, gasping.
“Bedroom,” he commanded, voice raw.
Ari stared at him, trying to breathe. She slid her hands under his shirt, over his smooth back. Pressed her hips to his again, moving against his shaft.
A smile ticked at the side of his lips just before he grabbed the hem of his shirt and tore it over his head. Tossed it to the ground, then stepped out of his pants, away from her grasp. He stood before her, all hard body, and stroked his cock.
She licked her lips.
“Take off your clothes, then go into the bedroom. Get on the bed and open your legs for me.”
She stared at him, her gaze flickering back and forth between his face and the deft strokes on his thick cock.
“You want this?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Start with your top. Take it off.”
Shaking, she ripped her sweater over her head. Shook out her hair and batted it from her face, then tossed her top on his, her breasts swinging.
“Oh,” he whispered. He cupped her breast. Thumbed her nipple, making her gasp, then crouched and took it in his hot mouth.
Moaning, her head rolled back. She gave into the sensation just as his mouth left her.
“Beautiful.” His fingers curled under the waistline of her leggings on either side of her hips and slid them down, exposing her bare pussy. He licked his lips, sliding a finger through her sopping labia and making her moan. He looked up at her. Stood, and pushed his finger through her lips. She sucked it hard, laving it with her tongue and tasting herself. “Go. Sit on the bed. Legs open.”
Ari pulled her leggings off her feet and discarded them onto the clothes heap. Took a step back and waited for him to follow. They danced, her backward and him forward, until she had her butt on the bed and he stood in the doorway, stroking his beautiful cock.
“Secure the weapon and open your thighs for me.”
She felt her eyes go wide at the reminder. Reached for the gun and slipped it into the front of her packed bag. Breathing hard, she looked up at him. Scooted back on the bed, swiveled her legs down it. Took a breath, then spread her legs.
In seconds he was between them, lowering his head, tongue slipping from his mouth. His arms circled under her legs, hands sliding over her thighs to pull them wider. A second later, his tongue teased the edge of her pussy lips.
Then he found her clit.
She jolted, nearly bursting from his hold, and he only gripped her tighter. Settled in and unleashed a rapid fire.
“Hess! Hess!” Bucking against him, she pushed her head back into the mattress. Slammed her hands on either side of her and clutched the sheets as he worked her clit with finesse.
Her vision came in bursts. The room. The moon. Hess’s gaze. His grasp, holding her down as she thrashed, taking her further and further away from the vine.
With a mangled growl, he climbed on top of her. Pressed his cockhead to her needy pussy as her hips drove for him. Slowly, slowly, he pushed, spreading her with a mix of relief and pain. Gasping, she clung to his back, acclimating to his girth as he pushed up on his hands to see her face.
“I could tell you you’re beautiful. That you have perfect tits and a tight pussy. Remind you,” he backed out and pushed back in, nearly making her scream in frustration, “that your beauty goes deeper. That you’re stronger than most women. Good. Kind.”
Whimpering, she clutched his forearms, arched her hips toward him.
He grunted and backed out, then surged forward, packing every inch of her pussy with cock. Gasping, moaning, she felt herself contract around him. Struggled for breath as she tried to refocus on his face.
“But you don’t want to hear it. You want to feel it.”
Smack! He thrust into her, jolting her breasts and stealing the air from her lungs. Her fingertips and toes tingled, livewires.
Sucking in another breath, she leveled her head. Looked him in the eyes.
His chin inclined. The hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
Smack! The room spun and Ari felt unhinged.
“So feel it,” he whispered. He leaned forward, mouth urgent against hers, his tongue pressing hers. He was all heat and breath and cock, pistoning in and out of her, disconnecting their mouths as she threw her head back and gasped for breath.
Thumbs at her hips, fingers digging into her ass cheeks, he pounded into her, ripping an orgasm from a fracture deep in her soul. It screamed through her body as if she were being born again into a world of heat, sweat, and fire. She clutched his flexing bottom, throat raw with moans as she fucked him back like an unburdened whore.
Hess groaned. Pushed deep inside her, cock kicking with cum as she writhed on his spike. Her hands flitted everywhere, trying to find a hold as everything went to pieces. He cradled her, nothing between them but skin as her heart slowed. Breath evened.
Pressing her face against his smooth cheek, she closed her eyes. Reveled in the high of orgasm. Of being seen, cared for. Safe.
Everything faded into darkness.
*
She awoke alone. Closed her eyes again and made her body remain still. Listened.
A low murmur. Pause, then another.
Hess. He’s on the phone. Her heart sank, her body heavy. She took a deep breath through her nose, let it out slowly. He has to leave soon. Get back to work, save the world.
She thought of the storage space in Maine, the car she’d stashed there last week. The man who’d caught her snooping two weeks earlier, the day she’d become someone she’d never anticipated.
Just do it, Arianna.
Opening her eyes, she slinked down to the floor to her bag. Slowly and quietly unzipped the outer layer. Removed her gun and set it on the floor against the wall. Then went back to her bag and took out a pen and small notepad. Sitting on the hardwood floor, she flipped to the back of the notepad to avoid prior indentations, and balanced the pad on her knee.
5221 Orlando Dr W
Portland, Maine
Gate: 14219#
Storage Area 550
Hess’s voice was a long drone in the other room.
Her breath sounded loud. She pushed the pad up, the pen shaking. She pressed it down.
Check the engine. One is mine, code 00124. The other is in Russian, code unknown.
She bristled at the memory of pressing the dead man’s finger to the pad to unlock the phone. Swallowing, she focused on the paper through the glow of the moon.
The gmail attached to it is LZQNEGXKLLY.
She’d repeated the code-like email address in her head over and over before allowing herself to get back to the party, act drunk and flirt outrageously with a pompous prick to make her husband mad enough to force her to go home. It’d been the safest way to get out without suspicion among the most insidious and deplorable people to exist.
Once her interview with Hess got out, they’d know it was her. She’d never go back to testify. As soon as it was released, Arianna Draper would be the most sought after hit in the world. Whitney Clarke, the identity Hess had given her, would be the second.
But no one knew Hanna Black.
“Always move forward,” Hess had recommended.
Sadness tore her soul.
You’re a kind and decent man, Evan Hess. In another world, I could’ve love you.
May God forgive me.
Jayla
- 29.07.2020
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