The Naughty Collection

by Ruby City Books

  “I’ll think about it,” I said. But I already knew that there was no way I would change my mind.

  Chapter Three

  The next day, although I tried to settle to the little jobs that need doing, I found myself missing Alex. I tried to make a shopping list and motivate myself to clean the bathroom, but instead I kept mooning around my flat, wondering what he was doing and whether he was thinking about me. I thought of things I wanted to tell him, plans we could make for the future. I felt like a lovesick schoolgirl. I kept picking up my phone and wondering if I should call him. He had said he was heading out to the countryside. Was there even a signal wherever he was?

  I wondered too about what he had told me. Could it really be possible that he was a werewolf? Even thinking about it made me feel ridiculous. But then when I remembered his face, full of such desperation, I found myself believing him. And if his fantastical, unlikely story really was true, what kind of a relationship could we possibly have? But even if he only had his daylight self to offer, I realised that I was prepared to take any part of him he had to give, rather than turn my back on him.

  I was actually staring at my phone when it buzzed. I felt as though my constant preoccupation with Alex must have somehow reached across the distance to him, as if by sheer force of will I had made him text me.

  ‘I can’t stop thinking about you. The countryside here is so beautiful, but I wish you could be here to share it with me. xxx’

  My heart thudded against my ribs. I felt a rush of excitement in the base of my belly and I couldn’t stop a huge grin from spreading over my face. I felt suddenly unbearably light and happy.

  ‘I miss you too. Can I come over? xxx’

  A few seconds later my phone buzzed again.

  ‘I don’t want you to see me like this. I am sorry, my darling. I will be home soon I promise. xxx’

  My elation ebbed, and suspicion welled up in me. Was I being an idiot? What if he wasn’t really in a cabin in the woods, awaiting the passing of the full moon, but instead was with his wife? Wasn’t that, in truth, far more likely? I had an image of him with a perfect family; a slim, blonde wife reading the Sunday papers across from him in his flat, while two adorable children played at their feet. I felt a sudden rage at my own gullibility.

  ‘Are you really off somewhere, changing into a werewolf? I don’t believe you. You must think I’m stupid.’

  As soon as I pressed send, I regretted it. I remembered how close we had been, only the day before, when we lay in each other’s arms on his bed. Had I ruined everything? And so what if he is married? A treacherous voice whispered in my ear. Maybe he and his wife haven’t slept together for years, maybe they both have their own lives and no one is getting hurt. I got up and paced around the room, feeling sick with myself. I was not that kind of person, I told myself firmly. I wasn’t going to be the other woman. Not even for Alex. At the thought of losing him, I felt a rush of white hot panic. I would take it back, beg to be forgiven, ask him to ignore my last text. I had just picked up my phone to send an apology, when the screen lit up again.

  ‘My darling, I am so sorry. You are entirely correct, I owe you more than this. If you still want to, you are very welcome to come and see me today. I will send you the name of the station and a car will be there to pick you up. But please, please, be prepared to leave again before nightfall. xxx’

  I felt weak with relief. I would have gone anywhere, travelled half way across the globe if it meant that for a few minutes I could see his face again.

  Chapter Four

  I took a train from Liverpool Street Station, and alighted at a tiny countryside platform after an hour and a half. The station was deserted and seemed overgrown with weeds, and I was the only person who got off the train. I walked out of the bright sunlight, through the silent ticket hall and saw a black car, its engine running, the only occupant of the car park.

  I approached the driver’s side with some trepidation, but the window rolled down and voice said “Ms Pointer?”

  “Yes?”

  The driver was a woman, who looked around seventeen. She had straight blonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail, and brilliantly blue eyes, slanted like a cat’s.

  “Mr Volks sent me to pick you up.”

  “Alex?”

  “That’s right. I see you have no luggage.”

  I was carrying my handbag, although I had no intention of disobeying Alex’s instructions to leave before nightfall and so had brought nothing with me. The woman climbed out of the car and opened the backseat door for me. Standing up, she seemed even younger; a tiny, birdlike girl who barely reached my shoulder. Despite the heat of the day she was wearing thick black trousers and a dark sweater.

  I sat down in the back and she shut the door firmly. Then a moment later the car leapt forward and roared smoothly away along the country lane.

  We seemed to be the only vehicle on the road, which was fortunate as Alex’s driver had her foot on the floor the entire journey. The air conditioning blasted and I was soon shivering in my thin dress. Despite the speed it was almost silent inside the car, and I tried to talk to the driver a few times. She gave such short answers that I soon gave up.

  The countryside we were driving through got wilder; changing from gentle farmland with regular houses and barns to more rugged and deserted moors. After around forty five minutes, the driver turned without warning and, with no loss of speed, headed up an earth track. Cresting the top of the hill, she drove straight towards a high stone wall with a pair of enormous wooden gates set into it. I gripped the seat on either side of me; at the speed we were going it seemed impossible we would be able to stop in time, even if the driver had showed any inclination to do so. But when we were within a few yards of the gates they swung forward smoothly and we continued our progress up a wide gravel drive. When we stopped outside the house, the driver got out and opened my door. I clambered out, feeling shaken.

  “How did you do that?” I asked her.

  “The gates? There is a sensor in the car. They open and close automatically for any one of Mr Volks’ vehicles.” She looked at my face and gave a short laugh. “Why, did you think it was magic?”

  I felt slightly foolish under her green stare. “Of course not.”

  She picked up my bag and carried it to the front door. There was an iron knocker which she let fall with a single, heavy thud, then put my bag at my feet and strode away without another word. I turned and saw the car drive smoothly out of sight around the side of the building.

  While I waited for the door to be answered, I looked around me. The house was a long stone building with several smaller wings branching off from the main house. I craned my neck upwards and counted four floors, each with large dark, wood-framed windows. Even on this sunny day, it had an air of abandonment; not quite of neglect, but certainly of a long and lonely existence out here in the middle of nowhere.

  I was considering knocking again and had raised my hand when the door opened. Alex was standing in front of me with his arms outstretched. He looked more rumpled than his usual immaculate self I was used to seeing around the office; he was dressed in dark jeans and a black shirt, open at the neck. His feet were bare.

  “Alex!” I fell forward into his arms. I had been feeling more and more apprehensive after the long journey and the strange, silent driver, but when I saw his face I felt a great wash of security. I had not planned to greet him so effusively, but I found myself desperate for his embrace.

  “My darling. You do not understand how pleased I am to see you.” He wrapped his muscular arms around me and held me against his chest. I could feel his heart beating against me and breathed in his scent. My body relaxed so much that I felt a tingle in the backs of my thighs and wanted him to sweep me up in his arms and carry me, unresisting, up the stairs to bed. Instead he released me after a moment, ran his hands down my arms to take both in his and leant down to kiss me.

  This was not the tender, playful kisses we had shared in his bed
yesterday. I felt desire race through me like a fire through bracken, and pressed the full length of my body against him. When the tip of his tongue touched mine I opened my mouth eagerly, wanting him to thrust his tongue inside me, for us to devour each other completely. I slid my arms around his neck and ran my fingers through his silky hair, wanting to pull him into me and possess him.

  I could feel from the growing heat and pressure in his groin that he felt the same way. His crotch was pressed into my belly and I ground myself against him, rubbing in circles to arouse him further. He had one hand around me, holding my face to his, and the other had snaked down my back to my buttocks, which he gripped firmly. I was wondering if we would even make it up the stairs, or whether our passion would overwhelm us right here on the hall rug, when he suddenly broke away from me.

  “Enough.” He was panting heavily and put an arm against the doorframe to steady himself. Although I was similarly dishevelled myself, I took a delight in seeing the effect I had on him. He closed his eyes for a second to collect himself and then stood up straight.

  “Kay, I would like to invite you in to my home. You may come and go freely.” He gestured with his hand, another of his formal, practised movements, and I stepped over the threshold. After the bright sunlight of the courtyard I had to squint, but when my eyes adjusted I saw a wide hallway with a stone-flagged floor and heavy oak doors leading off from it.

  “You must be tired after your journey. Please come through to the garden room.”

  He led the way past a large wooden staircase that rose straight up through the hall and then split into two wings. We passed more doors on either side and then finally the hall opened out into a wrought iron and glass conservatory filled with plants. It seemed out of keeping with the rest of the house; a piece of Victorian frippery in amongst the rugged stone of the building.

  Alex must have seen my expression, as he said “The house has been altered by many occupants over the generations. You may find a few such oddities here. This room, for example, was built in eighteen sixty three, for an aunt of the family who was dying of consumption. The warmth and light was thought to be beneficial.”

  “And was it?”

  “I don’t know. She is certainly dead by now, however.”

  I supposed this was a joke. The room was filled with large, lush plants which seemed to almost creak as they grew; tall tropical ferns and strange, brightly coloured seed heads. In one corner there was a low table surrounded by wicker chairs, and Alex directed me to them, waiting until I was seated before sitting down himself.

  “Who was the girl who picked me up from the station?” I blurted out.

  “Her name is Oxiana.”

  “Does she work for you?” Thinking about the size of the house, I realised that it would require an army of staff to keep it from sinking into dereliction. Who else was here and did they live in the house as well?

  “In a manner of speaking.” Alex was clearly determined to revert to his mysterious self.

  “Fine, then, don’t tell me,” I said in mock-annoyance.

  He looked up from pouring the tea and smiled. “Sorry. It’s an old habit.”

  I picked up my drink. The cup and saucer were bone china, so fine it was almost translucent. I supposed this must have come from some ancestor of the house as well.

  “Have you been well?” He enquired politely.

  I almost laughed out loud. Twenty four hours ago I was lying naked in his arms and three minutes ago we had been locked in a passionate embrace. And now he was making conversation as if I was a friend of his mother’s.

  “Alex, would you just relax a bit? There’s no need to be so formal.”

  He smiled again. “Actually, there is. There are certain — shall we say — customs associated with this house. You must receive an invitation to cross the threshold, you must accept that invitation and then there must be an exchange of hospitality.”

  “Is it magic?” I said, rolling my eyes. I thought of Oxiana’s mocking voice as she said the word.

  He narrowed his eyes and I thought for a moment that I had made him angry. However his voice was calm as he said, “Let us call it tradition.”

  I felt reproved, like a sulky teenager, and wanted to apologise. But before I could think of a graceful way to do this, Alex said “Since it is such a beautiful day, would you like to come for a walk with me, when you have finished your tea?”

  ***

  Although there was a formal garden laid out in the shelter of the South wing and I could see the remains of box hedges, now wild and overgrown, the grounds very quickly turned from paved paths to a more rugged farm track. I imagined Alex, transformed into a wolf, padding along these tracks in the moonlight, raising his head to the moon. I wanted to ask him about it, but couldn’t work out how to begin. As we left the house he had, quite naturally, taken my hand and now we strolled through the sunlight together. The day was growing even hotter, and within a few minutes I was feeling sticky and sweaty.

  When we had walked for around twenty minutes, the path suddenly opened out in front of a pool, with a soft, mossy bank and overhanging willows. I had been hearing the noise of a stream as we walked, and this seemed to be where it collected. We paused for a minute on the bank, still hand in hand.

  “This place is so beautiful. Is it all yours?”

  “For as long as I need to be here, I can stay. I used to come to this pond to swim when I was younger.”

  “Fancy a swim now?” I was teasing, almost daring him.

  He laughed. “Only if you’ll join me.”

  “You first. Then if you say it’s not too cold, maybe I’ll think about it.” I sat down on the bank with my arms around my knees and cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “Fine.” Alex paused for a moment, then reached down and tugged off his shoes and socks. A split second before he pulled his shirt over his head I realised I was going to see him naked for the first time.

  His chest was as firm and flat as I remembered, the golden pelt of hair catching the sunlight. His shoulders were broad and I could see the muscles in his back flexing as he turned slightly away from me. He did not look like the gym-toned men I saw in magazines, with each muscle worked and risen for just for appearance, but rather his body was powerful, solid, with a clear utility. Although he was so broad and solid, the length of his limbs still gave him a lean and elegant appearance. He seemed to have no tan lines; either he stayed out of the sun or he sunbathed nude. His skin didn’t have a pasty, tender appearance so I guessed it was the latter.

  He undid his belt and stood on first one leg, then the other to remove his trousers. I could not help myself from gazing at him. He was wearing a dark pair of close-fitting jockey shorts, and I could see the outline of his firm buttocks and long thighs. There was a downy vee of hair in the small of his back, pointing down into the cleft of his buttocks and I found I could not tear my eyes away from it. Then with a quick movement he pulled down his shorts and stood naked in the sunlight. I had a glimpse of his cock, heavy and darker than the rest of his skin, surrounded by tantalising curls of hair, before he turned and dived into the pool. He surfaced a few seconds later, wiping the hair and water out of his eyes.

  “Is it cold?” I shouted.

  “It’s beautiful. Come and join me.” He swam back a few strokes and looked at me.

  I felt suddenly shy. Although only yesterday he had seen me, tasted me, completely naked, this seemed even more exposing. The sunlight was bright, and I didn’t usually take off all my clothes in the woods, even if it was just the two of us.

  “Come on. I won’t look if you feel shy.” He turned away and covered his eyes.

  I stood up, and with a deep breath, started to undress. The sun’s warmth felt as if it was caressing my naked flesh. I folded my clothes carefully into a pile, and then, with a quick glance to make sure his back was still turned, reached down and ran my hand over Alex’s discarded clothes. They were still warm, and I had a sudden impulse to bury my face in them an
d breathe in his scent. I resisted and edged to the bank and lowered myself in.

  Despite what Alex said, the water was cold enough to make me gasp. I paused for a second, then dropped my shoulders fully under the water and swam towards him. I could see the pale outline of his body through the clear water as he trod water, waiting for me to approach. When I was close enough, he reached out and pulled me towards him, holding my face in his hands, then dipped his head and kissed me.

  The water was too deep for me to stand up and I had to trust my whole body to his grasp. His feet must have been on the bottom of the pool as he felt quite steady as he pulled me closer into him. I could feel his flesh against me, cool and smooth through the water, and then, as I wrapped one leg around him, I could feel his cock, hot and hard, against my inner thigh. He moved one hand down to the small of my back, tracing gentle sweeps with his fingertips, then down, cupping the curve of my buttock. Because one leg was raised and wrapped around him, he was able to run his fingertips down the sensitive inside surface, moving tantalisingly close to the centre. Following the line he reached the underside of my pussy, allowing his fingers to linger for a second, tickling the lips teasingly. He then gripped my thigh to support me with the length of his forearm. I shifted my weight slightly so that his cock was no longer clamped between our bodies and it sprang forward into the gap between my thighs. I reached a hand down and gripped the shaft, iron hard and hot even in the cold water. I moved my hand gently along its length, feeling the small ridges as I reached the head. His kisses became more urgent; he thrust his tongue more deeply and passionately into my mouth. I used my thumb to rub over the head of his cock, moving the foreskin back and forth firmly over his frenulum, and felt him give a little groan. I wanted to guide him inside me, but something held me back; I wanted to be assured of his consent. So far he had deliberately refrained from penetration, and I wondered if there was a reason. Instead I shifted my weight again and reached under his cock to his scrotum, tense and tight against his body. I cupped his balls in my palm and gently squeezed them, tugging them slightly away from his body. He took his mouth from mine and buried his teeth in my shoulder, a spasm of pleasure seeming to run through him. As my hand returned to his cock, he gave almost a growl and suddenly picked me up and carried me out of the water. He hardly seemed to notice as he took my full bodyweight, and almost flung us both down on the mossy bank.