‘What’s J for?’
‘Jetting,’ he smiled. ‘Hugh Carrington Jetting. Desperately uninspired. That place where you’re staying, will I be able to cook there?’ He picked up two bags off a large platform trolley and carried them to the Evora. ‘Nice car.’
‘I would have preferred the Elise, but none of my minders could fit into the passenger seat.’
He laughed again. ‘Which was exactly why you preferred it. Aren’t you now glad that you’ve got Evora instead?’
* * *
We were both starving hungry. After a hurried, duty tour of the house, Hugh familiarised himself with the kitchen. He left no cupboard or a drawer unopened. In the meantime, I was charged with unpacking the larger and heavier of the two bags. I smiled when he slipped the other one, the overnighter I assumed, behind one of the two potted laurel trees that served as a portal to the kitchen. He was leaving it to me to decide on sleeping arrangements. Well, he was going to have a long wait. I wasn’t planning on a great deal of sleep tonight.
‘I was thinking of a buffet table,’ he said over his shoulder as he picked a knife off the magnetic strip. ‘I only need 10 minutes, if that.’
I wasn’t sure what kind of plates to bring out. I could have asked, of course, that would have been a sensible thing to do. Only now that we were playing house instead of indulging in tumultuous sexual acrobatics on the kitchen table, I had a feeling that some boundaries were being drawn and that I didn’t want to cross them. To be on the safe side I stuck two sets into the plate warmer, a soup bowl, a dinner plate and a side plate each. I had no idea where my grandmother kept table linen, this simply wasn’t a kind of a house where you could just go and look for something at a likely place. I had seen a stack of glass placemats and a pack of cream-coloured paper napkins in one of the drawers, so I used them instead. The same bottom drawer also contained a couple of table candlesticks with barely used real wax candles in them. I brought those along, too. Once I unpacked most of the contents I added a cheese board and a few ceramic dishes suitable for serving pâté, olives, capers and a pickled fruit.
‘I’ve never heard of any of those cheeses,’ I thought that was a nice, safe subject to talk about.
‘No, you wouldn’t have done,’ Hugh was lifting blanched vegetables out of the boiling water. ‘There’s a family of cheese makers that I know. They produce three different kinds from their own ewes. I’m friends with the eldest son, we went to the flying school together. He brought me this whole lot at lunchtime. The mussels,’ he pointed to the large colander where the just cleaned mussels were draining in the sink, ‘they were still clinging to the rocks at 10 am today.’
‘No wine for us?’ I asked when Hugh added wine to the stock and the mussels got their two minutes boil in the liquid. The smell was wonderful. My tummy was ringing serious warning bells.
‘I’ve left it aboard. You can’t drink, so... There’s some freshly squeezed grape juice in the bag.’
‘I’ll be eighteen in December...’ I stopped as abruptly as I started. Two years ago almost to the day I’d said ‘I’ll be sixteen in December’ to Mungo Steen and never heard from him again.
‘Not long to wait then,’ Hugh smiled at me as he brought the steaming saucepan straight to the table. ‘The soup bowls will be warm enough by now?’
I nodded and took them out of the warmer. I took out the rest of the tableware too. There was nothing but the mussels hot on the menu.
Neither of us lit the candles. He talked about his Cessnas and Hawkers, I told him about my day at the Sanctuary. I praised the food out loud and inwardly wandered why he was so distant. Lovely and kind, funny and amusing, but restrained. He was twelve, almost thirteen years older than me. Maybe I seemed like a silly little schoolgirl to him. Maybe I was just a silly little schoolgirl who’d run away from home on a whim, a poor little rich girl turning a molehill into a mountain.
I had to stop myself from going there. I’d promised myself that I wasn’t going to think of my father, his business problems and his absurd idea of a solution to the situation.
‘What’s up?’ We had no desert and none of the fruit in the orangery was quite ready for picking. Hugh had been beating himself up over the oversight, then resorted to a bar of my grandmother’s cooking chocolate that he’d found in a kitchen cupboard.
‘Seeing that you’ve done all the cooking,’ I was thinking on my feet, literally, for I left my seat and was munching on the last of the asparagus standing by the table, ‘it’s only fair that you should clear up and load the dishwasher as well,’ I smiled a lot more cheekily than I felt. ‘Sorry for being rude but the stable smell is getting to me. It’s in my very pores. I’ve just got to scrape it off.’
Without looking at him, I ran upstairs to the en suite with the yellow bedroom.
* * *
The door to the wet room opened as the shampoo suds started dripping down my back and shoulders.
‘In the interest of the environment we can just as well share the shower.’
Chapter 15
His fingers dug deep into my hair and firmly massaged my scalp, pushing the swelling foam off my face. They rotated down my neck making it feel like a swathe of charmeuse silk , continued over the shoulders and down my back. At a maddeningly steady pace, he collected more suds from my hair and spread them all over my buttocks and my thighs, his fingers reaching in between my legs but never even touching the area that was ablaze for the touch. It wasn’t before he worked the soap in between my toes that he returned to my torso and with his hands looking like two huge white gloves, encircled my breasts. My nipples suddenly bosomed into two purple orchids, sending a beautiful ache throughout my insides. Of their own volition my hands reached to the back, bringing him close, closer and then closer still to me until his erection pressed into me. I stepped on my toes, wriggled a little, helping the tough monster to nestle in between my buttocks. The feel of his naked hardness was deliciously novel. Acting on a command from somewhere within me, my buttocks clenched, squeezing the cock between them, massaging it as my soles danced up and down, up and down.
‘Love the hairstyle,’ Hugh murmured into my ear. His fingers gave my artistic pubic crescent an appreciative rub, then moved further down, sliding very slowly over my clitoral hood and in between the lips underneath it.
My breath suddenly turned into a series of quick short gasps, and my posterior went mad, furiously clasping his cock in an iron grip.
‘Please,’ I whispered, ‘please.’
Grinning, Hugh turned me around to face him, one arm around my waist, the other one fiddling with the shower controls. The warm, sumptuous stream of water turned into a powerful jet, engulfing us both in a fierce, cool outpour. The suds that at first eddied down the drain hole in thick heads of foam soon disappeared, leaving my hair to drain profusely down my back and breasts. Hugh reached for a large bath towel, dried us both perfunctorily with it and lifted me in his arms.
‘Two things,’ I whispered. ‘One, I don’t want you to distract me. I want to feel the pain. I want to remember it.’
‘And?’
‘I won’t last. I’ll come even before you could say...’
‘I don’t think that I’ll be saying anything very much. Shall I use the condom?’
I shook my head. ‘I’m on the pill,’ I said with some pride. That had been the first adult decision that I’d ever made for myself.
He lowered me on the bed, and exactly as once before, he lifted my buttocks, parted my knees and bestowed a long, fleshy kiss onto my hymen. I could feel the tip his tongue circle around, waking up every single nerve there, then move onto the clitoris and flirt with it lusciously and agonisingly slowly.
My lower body jerked upwards in response. ‘Have mercy,’ I managed a nervous giggle.
He chuckled back, fitted himself in between my legs, and wrapped his arms around me. Holding me close, he kissed me. For the first time since we’d met, he buried his large, strong mouth into mine. My lips opened
in an urgent greeting, my tongue sought his, trying to fill him, imploring to be filled in return. The thick, hard stem of his cock was moving up and down the outside of my vagina, sliding smoothly along its wet welcome.
Then he changed his position slightly and I could feel it make its way in.
The pain was sudden and sharp, shooting out throughout me like lighting. I screamed at full volume, but it disappeared immediately and without a trace. His cock continued to move slickly in, taking up all the room there was and more. My inside muscles tightened around it, owning it, my clitoris luxuriating in the electrifying friction against the stem.
‘Awww!’
I tried to fight it but the orgasm was unstoppable. It tore through my entire body. Working with my need, his thrusts became even more forceful and faster, he grew even bigger inside me until his cock remained the only source of life, the only route to completion. After an eternity of drawing sustenance from that well, I screamed again, this time in the wonderful anguish of fulfilment and collapsed into sobbing, grateful for the cradle of his arms to hold me together.
Hugh’s face was buried into the base of my neck, his breathing fast, his body gratified. He lifted his head and wiped his forehead with a corner of the bed sheet. Then he kissed me again. With the reassuring weight of his relaxed cock still inside me, and his lips bonded to mine, I felt that I’d arrived.
I was where I’d always wanted to be, where I wanted to stay forever.
* * *
I woke up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of running water in the kitchen. The clock on the bedside table showed 9.14, the sunshine peering between the curtains signalled daytime. I dashed off for a shower, quickly changed the bedding and, along with all the discarded clothing, stuffed the used set into a linen bag, ready to take it to the laundry room downstairs. I then pulled on a strapless top and the washed but not ironed dungaree shorts that I’d worn when I first arrived to the Sanctuary.
‘You look like Christopher Robin dragging Winnie the Pooh behind him,’ Hugh laughed at the laundry bag and emptied a glass of orange juice. ‘Want one?’
I lifted my face up to him, closing my eyes. ‘I could use something else first. I’ve brushed my teeth, by the way.’
He was still laughing when he kissed me. I loved his morning, laughing kisses. They didn’t taste of lust and fire like last night. Instead, there was a joyful tenderness about them, a sense of togetherness.
‘I don’t suppose it matters now, I hope it doesn’t,’ Hugh lifted my face up to his, ‘but I was terribly nervous last night...’
‘Why on earth would you have been nervous? That was meant to be my territory.’
‘But, you were not really nervous, were you?’
I shrugged. ‘I probably was. I must have been on some level. But, I was much too excited, fired up, to give in to first night nerves. Why were you nervous?’
‘I’ve never been anyone’s first before. I was afraid of letting you down. Putting you off kind of thing.’
‘Putting me off sex for life, kind of thing?’
He nodded.
‘You haven’t, I assure you,’ I smiled up at him and stepped closer. ‘If anything...’
Hugh embraced me and kissed the top of my head. ‘Let’s keep it special. What are we doing today? Got anything planned?’ He moved us both to the breakfast table.
He must have explored the conservatory in some detail because there was a dish full of Alpine strawberries on the table, as well as a couple of boxes of cereals, a coffee pot, butter, honey and toast.
I shook my head. ‘I haven’t thought that far. There’s always the Sanctuary, I suppose.’ Truthfully, I felt than anything else but making love was waste of good bedroom time, but thought it wiser to keep that to myself.
‘It’s a lovely day. How would you like a day on a Cornwall beach?’
‘You’d fly us there?’
‘Yup.’ He’d spread butter and honey on two slices of toast and was eating them together, like a sandwich.
‘I don’t have a swimsuit with me.’
‘We’ll find a very remote beach,’ he winked.
I didn’t need any more persuasion. A rummage through my grandmother’s drawers unearthed one of my mother’s discarded one-piece swimming costumes. My grandmother had probably never used it but it fitted me well enough. I hoped to be as slim as my mother when I reached her age. Besides, with luck I wasn’t going spend too long inside it.
We ended up at Land’s End. The airfield had a small car hire operation. The only two available vehicles were a nondescript red convertible and a Skoda Yeti.
‘Never driven a Skoda,’ Hugh eyed it with suspicion.
‘There’s the first time for everything,’ I muttered and we both burst out laughing.
After trundling along a dirt road for about half an hour, the beach we found was as deserted as I could have wished. Hugh busied himself pumping up a brand new inflatable mattress that we’d found at the back of the car. I was showing off my swimming prowess jumping off a cliff and diving for long enough to get him a little worried. The sea was bitingly cold at first, but an energetic crawl out and back again quickened the adjustment.
Hugh met me on my third leg back. ‘The water’s lovely,’ he grinned.
‘Wash your mouth out with salt,’ with a flap of my feet I sent a powerful splash to his face. ‘You must never refer to sea as water. Sea is Sea. Its Majesty the Sea.’
We chased each other around, screeching and shouting, until he wrapped me in his arms and kissed me. ‘That’s the difference,’ I thought as my ravenous mouth got hold of his tongue and sucked on it ferociously, ‘they never kissed. Not once. He and that woman in his swimming pool, they never kissed.’ The pure joy of the realisation wound my legs around his waist. As a reward, his ribs rubbed me firmly through the thin fabric of the gusset. He chuckled through the kiss, and rolled my swimsuit down, all the way to my navel, and disentangling himself quickly from the clinch of my legs, pulled it off altogether. In a powerful hurl, it went flying towards the shore.
‘Bullseye,’ he grinned and bent down to my breasts, sucking and biting them alternatively, before he brought me up flat on my back. ‘You do the butterfly, I’ll push on with my legs.’ He parted my legs and slid in between them. ‘I can’t get enough of your delicious little cunt.’
As we slowly moved off, his head bent down and his mouth latched to me, furiously sucking my clit. I was in agony. There was no way that I could respond to the provocation, nothing I could do to reduce the intense rush of blood to that entire area of me that was ruling my every move.
‘Fuck me,’ I cried. ‘I need you to fuck me hard right now.’
I thought I could hear him chuckle again. His tongue slid further down, down to the mouth of my cunt and pushed in.
OMG! OMG! OMG!
He was fucking me with at least an inch of his tongue inside me, as his nose rubbed my clit.
There was no way that I could do any butterfly moves. My hands slipped down to my breasts and squeezed them tightly, as he pushed us on using just his legs. With each push his tongue rammed harder and harder into me.
‘You bastard!’ Aroused out of my mind, I was beating the top of his head. ‘You fucking bloody sadistic beast. I need your cock. I need you to fill me up with your cock. Now!’
We must have reached the shallower ground, for he stopped swimming and stood up. Still in between my legs, he lifted me upright and up in the air a little, before lowering me down again until I felt something rigid and thick entering me from below. It took me a long second to realise that it was his cock that was taking possession of me. All that time he’d been stark naked. I was madly furious with myself for failing to notice that before, and madly needy at the same time. The need won.
‘You crafty bastard,’ I repeated and pushed myself further down on him, as far down as I could go. ‘You selfish, deceiving pig. Are you planning on starting to fuck me properly any time soon?’
‘
Your wish is my command, my lady,’ he said with his cheeky grin again. ‘Fix your ankles around me.’
I did.
Of course I did. I couldn’t wait to fasten him to me again.
As was his habit, he lifted my buttocks up a little and leant forward. Each step he made turned into a crushing thrust of his cock inside me and a hard brush against my clitoris. I could hear myself moaning, straining to offer more of myself to that excruciating torture, until it became too much to bear. We may have been moving through raging fire instead of the cool sea. My pelvis started gyrating furiously around him until my clit and the G spot exploded in glorious unison. As we collapsed on the sand at the very edge of the shore, and shuddered in violent jerks against each other, I felt myself drowning in the hot flood of his ejaculation.
Chapter 16
We wanted to start work at the Sanctuary as early as possible. At 7 in the morning, the sun was already quite high up on the horizon, and the house martins were creating one heck of a racket under the eaves. Life was beautiful, and I was becoming more and more scared. It was Wednesday. My father had ordered me to turn up, compliant and dressed up to the nines, on Saturday. My entire being revolted against the possibility of shattering this passionate, yet peaceful paradise to shards of reality. I’d promised myself not to think about anything painful and bewildering before at least Thursday. Or better still, until Friday. I’d been doing very well so far. There was no reason to think that anything terrible would happen if I continued the way I’d started. If he was really as broke as he claimed, my father couldn’t even disinherit me. As for the rest, in time he was going to forgive and forget. What else could he do? He was a parent. Forgiving and forgetting was in his job description.
I still had two more days to make up my mind. The important point was not to let Hugh have anything to do with my decision. It was important to me to take full responsibility for whatever happens next.
The Eunuch's Ward (The String Quartet) Page 13
