by West, Jade
His mouth was on mine, and his tongue was a hunter. His hands were firm on my waist as he backed me across the hallway towards the staircase. He pulled away with a smirk and shot a glance upstairs, and I was right there with him, my own smile creeping up.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of christening your bedroom,” he whispered, and his voice was full of the satin filth I loved. “I’ve had plenty of virtual tours… but not the thrill of visiting in person…”
“About time we remedied that then, isn’t it?” I laughed. “I guess the Feathers will have to wait this evening…”
“It won’t be waiting for too long this evening,” he said, and nipped my bottom lip. “I have plenty of toys waiting there.”
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and squeaked as he lifted me. I bounced with a giggle at every step he dashed up, twisting my head to stare at my unmade bed as he kicked my bedroom door open.
“Not quite your hotel room cleanliness standards,” I laughed, but he growled as he dropped us both onto the flurry of bedding.
“I hate hotel room standards,” he said, and pinned me down hard, my arms high overhead. “I want mess. I want life. I want you.”
“And you’ve got me,” I told him, and spread my legs for him.
His hand was rough as it slid its way up under my summer skirt, snaking into my knickers and finding me wanting, wet and waiting.
“That’s it,” I whispered. “I’ve been so ready for this.”
“And I’ve been waiting so fucking bad for this too,” he said, and kissed a path down between my tits and over my stomach.
My clit was sparking, desperate, and his mouth was a beast set to consume me, his lips sucking me just right as he tugged my knickers aside.
I couldn’t stop myself bucking, squirming, begging for more. I was losing my mind, my fingers twisting in his hair, holding tight.
“I need this…” I hissed, and I sounded crazy. Really damn crazy. “I need this so much…”
“Not as much as I do,” he grunted, and pushed his fingers inside me in one hard thrust. “Believe me, Maisie Moore, I’m fucking mad about you.”
I was lost to everything but my explosion as he sucked me past my limits and over the edge. His fingers fucked me hard, the wetness loud enough to make me burn up as he eased one of them back and pushed it deep in my ass.
“I’m gonna take you like you’ve never been taken,” he told me, and I was nodding, even as my senses ran wild. “You’re going to be humming to a whole new fucking tune by the time we’re through tonight.”
I didn’t doubt it. I was panting as I came back to my senses enough to reach for him and pull him close. My summer dress was billowing up around my tits, my duvet half off the bed and a crumpled mess from where I’d been kicking at it. Yet Oliver Kent was every bit the usual perfection of Oliver Kent. His shirt was still buttoned all the way, his trousers still buckled and trousers still zipped.
The only thing out of place was his trademark tuft of hair on his head, and I loved it. Fuck, how I loved it.
I kissed him hard, and giggled in my throat, my heart pounding at the joy of having him in my arms, even just for this moment.
He gave me a tut as I ran my hands down to his ass and tried to slide them in between us.
“Not yet, Miss Moore,” he said, and pinned them back up high. “You can hold your fire until we’re back in my hotel room.”
I groaned like a moody little bitch, even as my grin bloomed fresh.
“So unfair… I really want to touch you…”
“You won’t be saying it’s unfair later, I promise,” he said, and raised himself up from me.
I took hold of his hand and laughed as he tugged me upright, smoothing my dress back down into some kind of respectability.
“We’d best get going then,” I said. “I’m looking forward to seeing what filthy games you have in store for me.”
His smirk was cocky enough to set my heart on fire.
“I fucking love you, Maisie,” he said.
Chapter Forty-Four
Oliver
I knew we were skirting the obvious topic of conversation right the way through dinner.
We made small talk over steak in the Three Feather’s restaurant, enjoying each other’s company plenty without the pressure of what ifs about the future. I smiled and laughed along with her, savouring the moments of happiness, knowing full well we had plenty more complexities to come. Plenty more complexities and plenty more filthy fantasies bursting out between us. Hell, I could feel them all.
Maisie’s dress was loose and floaty and her hair was free to match. She was a beautiful girl at ease in her own skin, glowing after coming against my open mouth and all set for a dirty night ahead, a world away from how I’d seen her in London wrapped up in some ballgown she didn’t feel right in.
I never wanted to see her not feeling right about herself again, no matter what occasion might call for it.
“Really was great to see you, Dad and Fred working on the robot,” she said, and I gave her a nod, my eyes focused hard.
“Was great to be with your dad and Fred working on the robot,” I replied, and meant it. “I’d honestly forgotten how much time I used to spend with your parents. I’ve missed them without realising it.”
“They’re happy you’re back in my life,” she said, and I felt strangely good myself, relieved that I’d received their approval.
I suppose that’s when I realised it – how important their opinions were to me. They really mattered. Both of them really mattered.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d really been approved of on a personal level and not just a business one – outside of Maisie that is. I very much enjoyed the glow of the realisation.
“I’m extremely happy I’m back in your life,” I told her with a smirk. “I guess being pleased about that is something your parents and I have in common. I’m very glad we do.”
My brain kept churning on the realisation score, mulling things over as she tucked into her fries. It wasn’t just that they were Maisie’s parents that gave me such happiness at their approval. There was more to it than that. I respected them very much as people – as decent people – and not just because they were nice individuals but because they were excellent examples of two people enjoying a great relationship and always had been. I’d been observing that from a youngster, before I’d even really registered what I was observing.
Maisie’s parents loved each other so much it was obvious from a distance, the way they looked at each other, the way they spoke, the way they were so committed to a life together and always had been, even through life’s peaks and troughs, because there had been some. There really had been some. Some that I remembered, even from way back as a boy.
They’d had some worries when Maisie’s dad had been made redundant from the storage place he’d been working at for a decade, and when Maisie’s mum had been forced to cut back her hours at Wilkins fuels to help out uncle Steve when he was ill for a year straight. But nothing mattered, not one single thing apart from supporting each other and being a family.
They were a team devoted to each other, caring about nothing more than enjoying each other’s company around their job strife, and I’d lost sight of that. I’d lost such sight of that for so long.
“What are you thinking?” Maisie asked, and I stared across the table, coming back to the moment.
“I was thinking about how amazingly close your parents are,” I said. “It’s really quite something.”
She nodded. “They’ve always been like it, forever. I’m lucky to have them as my parents, I really am.”
I tried my best to push my thoughts aside and dropped my cutlery on my plate, no longer hungry. No longer wanting to wonder about her parents’ successes or whether I really was as cut out to be the perfect son-in-law one day as they were hoping, since I was planning on taking their daughter to the other side of the world on my arm.
I didn’t want
my thoughts. I just needed her. Wanted her.
“No more steak?” she asked, with her eyebrows high.
I shook my head. “I’m hungry for you, not steak. For having your sweet little holes on my tongue where they belong.”
I loved how her cheeks showed pink under whatever foundation was wearing. She finished up her mouthful and put her cutlery down on her plate, her eyes flitting around to check I’d been out of earshot of the waiters and fellow diners.
“I’m pretty hungry for you, too,” she said in a whisper. “I’ve had enough fries, thank you.”
I nodded, and raised a hand to the nearest waiter, asking for the bill.
Maisie smiled her temptress little smile as I signed off on my room tab, and I was so fucking ready to be with her.
“Up we go,” I said and reached out for her hand as soon as we were up on our feet.
Her fingers were gentle, fixed in mine but fidgety, her smile nervous as I led the way to the main staircase.
Her breaths were picking up in speed as we made our way upstairs and along the corridor, and she was ready, truly ready by the time I held the bedroom door open.
“I want this to be a night of fantasies,” she told me, her eyes saucer wide as she stood tall in the room. “I want you to push me all the way. Just like you always wanted. Just like you always said you would.”
There was something about how she said it. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what, but it moved me deep. Something pivotal and intense, like this was a statement night somehow. A shift somehow. As though something was brewing between us. Revelations and roads ahead to make sense of.
“I’ll push you all the way,” I told her, and my voice sounded low. “I’ll push you to the skies, and you’ll love it. I promise you, you’ll love it.”
That temptress smile bloomed on her full lips. “I know I will,” she whispered, and tugged her floaty dress right up and over her head.
It drifted to the floor like a parachute, and her flesh was truly divine in the lamplight – pale but goose-pimpled, her curves absolutely delicious as she unclipped her bra and dropped it free.
Her eyes were fixed on mine as she tugged down her knickers and stepped out of them. Her sandals were kicked off in a flash, and she dropped an inch in height, naked and exposed and perfection in my eyes.
“You are truly beautiful, my sweetheart,” I told her, and stepped on up.
I unbuttoned my shirt slowly, my eyes on hers as they followed my fingers, soaking every inch of me right in.
“You are truly gorgeous,” she said, and a giggle sounded low. “Drop dead gorgeous. As gorgeous as it ever comes.”
I shrugged my shirt from my shoulders and tipped her face up to mine. “Drop dead dirty more like it.”
Her stare was every bit the minx I’d known was stirring deep. “Show me drop dead dirty, Oliver Kent,” she whispered. “Show me how dirty you can be.”
I took hold of her wrists and held them tight behind her back, my mouth open next to hers, savouring her little whimper.
“Please…” she said. “Please show me how dirty you can be…”
“I’ll show you fucking everything,” I hissed, and kissed her so fucking hard that she toppled backwards, but I caught her. I caught her and guided her back onto that bed like she was mine to consume. Mine to tease, and tempt and explore until she was stretched open wide.
I shunted her up until her head was on the pillows and her hands were pressed tight to the wooden headboard. I insisted she keep those fingers gripping tight until I told her to do otherwise.
Her nod was nervous, her tits rising and falling like I’d sent her to hell already, those nipples puckered dark and ripe and begging for attention.
I took my belt off and ran the leather strap down across those swollen tits, teasing those nubs enough that she arched her back. She spread her thighs easily as I trailed that leather down lower and rubbed it against that sweet little cunt, tempting her on.
She was wet. Deliciously fucking wet. Deliciously fucking hungry to be used.
“Good girls like you take it nicely,” I said.
I tossed the belt aside and got out of my trousers, and my cock was throbbing tight in my hand as she stared up at me, watching me with eager eyes as I reached for the case at the side of the bed.
She was a good girl and kept her hands gripping the headboard as I assembled the toys beside her. Some she recognised, some she didn’t. She’d be feeling all of them, that was for fucking sure.
“I hope you’re ready to gobble like a good girl,” I said, and climbed up to straddle her. She opened her mouth nicely for my fingers, but I was a long way from gentle as I pushed them inside.
I stretched her lips open wide and dived in deep, shoving four fingers back far enough that she retched and gurgled for me, and I loved it. I fucking loved it.
My Maisie Moore was such a sweet looking girl and always had been. Always so kind and humble and innocent. She always looked so innocent. Even when she was being anything but.
“Fucking beautiful,” I growled as she strained to be a good girl for me.
I stretched more of my fist into that pretty mouth of hers and worked it hard enough to hear the slick sounds of pure fucking bliss.
She gasped as I pulled free, but I was right back in for more. Back and forth, back and forth, until her eyes were watering like sweet diamonds, spilling tears right the way down her pretty cheeks.
“I love seeing you like this,” I hissed, and I couldn’t stop myself craving. Couldn’t stop myself craving the filth of the pretty soul who’d conquered mine.
I sucked my fingers clean of her streamy spit when I pulled free of her, then went in again, over and over, trusting how young the night was as I coaxed her on.
“I’m going to open you up,” I told her as she was gurgling raw. “I’m going to open up those other tight little holes of yours until you’re stretched open wide for me, and it’s going to be beautiful, Maisie. Really fucking beautiful.”
She retched afresh as I pulled my fingers from her throat for the final time, turning her face to the side and letting the spit stream free onto the pillow beneath her. She groaned as I slipped that sopping wet hand down between her thighs and pushed three fingers deep inside that wet little pussy, then groaned again as my thumb took up its rightful position against her clit.
“Kiss me,” I said, and my face was right in hers.
She met me with a slick one. A hungry, needy, sloppy kiss that was every bit the dirty dance I wanted, and I smiled against her. Really smiled against her. And the most beautiful thing of all was the way she smiled back.
Because this was us. The true dirty heart of two dirty souls coming together, just like it always had been. We’d sensed it. Known it. Wanted it.
And now we were taking it.
I kissed my way down to her tits and gave her nipples a sloppy suck, and my hand reached for one of the first dildos in line, shunting it into her cunt in one hard thrust. She took it. She took it with a whimper and a hiss for more.
I made sure I had the angle just right as I fucked her, and her fingers stayed just fine on that headboard, her eyes closed tight as I struck up my rhythm.
I lowered my mouth and lapped at her clit as I circled that dildo deep, opening her up nice and wide as she raised her hips for me.
And then it was her asshole’s turn. That tight little puckered mouth of promise.
I spat on that hole, sliding two fingers in hard with the dildo still plugged tight inside her pussy, and she took it with a squirm.
“Fuck, Ollie!” she whined. “Fuck!”
But it was just the beginning.
The head of the second dildo was fat enough to make her grunt as it plopped past that tight little ring, but she took it. She took it with her hips still squirming and her whimpers still hungry.
And that’s where I trusted my grind.
My working of those two toys was purely on instinct, my eyes reading hers at every step. I forced
her knees up to her tits and dropped them wide, pinning her back with my weight enough to get the best fucking access, and I worked those holes like a man who wanted to dive in fucking deep.
Spit was backed up with lube, and dildos were backed up with vibrators, and I kept her whining, kept her panting, kept her hissing yes, yes, yes.
Her climaxes were steady, building up one after the other. The sheen of sweat on her body made her deliciously clammy, and I tasted her. I tasted all of her. Wanted all of her.
She cried out loud as I dipped my tongue in her very filthiest of places and lapped her up, telling me I was dirty. So fucking dirty.
Because I was.
I always had been.
She just hadn’t known me as this man. This man who was fully man enough to play her body to his tune with a whole decade of fantasies behind him.
Fantasies that were all coming true as she lay there with a dildo up her ass and a vibrator singing in her pretty cunt.
“I wish you could see how fucking spread you are for me,” I told her, making her groan nice and loud as I pulled both toys free of her.
She was an angel. A pretty little angel with her pretty little features, trying to raise her head enough to oblige.
“It feels so good, Ollie,” she whispered, “so damn good.” And there it was again, that twinkle of filth in her eyes so fucking divine.
“I love playing with your filthy holes,” I told her, “I love to see your pretty cunt filled up, Maisie. Your pretty cunt aching for more.”
“Then give me more,” she said, “fill me up, Mr Kent. Filthy Maisie needs your cock,” and her expression was one of such genuine want that it took my breath.
My cock was hard. Straining. Thick enough and pulsing enough that it was a glorious replacement for the vibrator I dumped at her side. I pushed the anal dildo back inside her as I sank balls deep, filling her up all the way, and she screwed her eyes closed tight as I fucked her, my breath in hers as I claimed her, so tight against the dildo, so fucking tight she was straining, whimpering.
