by Jaye Peaches
Chapter Fourteen
“I went to see Magda.”
Stefan’s jaw dropped then he quickly recovered his poise, snapping his mouth shut. I’d surprised him with my announcement.
He picked up a knife and sliced through a piece of cheese on his plate, offering it to me. “You did? Well, that explains how you knew how to find me. And you didn’t scratch out her eyes?” The humor he attempted to inject into his question fell flat.
My lips remained pressed together in a serious expression. I picked the cheese off his knife end. “It was my intention, but she wasn’t what I expected,” I admitted. Magda, as much as I wanted to hate her, had not become my rival. She’d ducked out of the equation.
“No, she’s…special.” Stefan glanced up at me and his face flushed. “I mean, caring. I owe her a great deal.”
The cheese hovered in front of my mouth. “Why?”
“She understands what I am. You see, I have an inclination to dominate.”
That word again. Did it bother me? What did it make me?
“I’ve noticed.” I munched on the cheese. The rich flavor activated my hunger.
“She has the experience to deal with it and her knowledge has guided me. I’m not one for networking. It is Magda who, through her friends, enables me to meet the right people.”
“And I’m not right?” I batted back.
“Oh God, Callie, you are perfect for me. Surely Magda explained?”
“About what?” I asked.
“Submission.”
I shifted on my stool. Labels again. “I’m not comfortable with the terminology.”
Stefan grinned. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t bother with it either, but I do appreciate the behaviors, the traits. When they match mine, the sparks fly. More cheese?”
I nodded, holding out my hand for another slice. “With Magda, the sparks?”
“Once, no longer.” He leaned forward, capturing my outstretched hand. “Only you. So, Magda helped you find me?”
“Yes, she… She said you made a mistake, but that you didn’t fuck her and that you were…upset.”
The last word brought him up straight. He cut me more cheese, another offering to keep me occupied while he contemplated an answer. “Can you forgive me?”
Too early to speak those words. The jury remained out because I had one key question unanswered. “Why, Stefan? Why did you end up on the floor with her?”
He put down the knife. Across his face, a shadow fell. The darkness around his eyes deepened. The sadness I’d once glimpsed returned. “I’m ashamed to say, I simply followed my impulsive needs.”
I didn’t understand. Would I ever? “How can I trust you?”
“We’ve made it this far. It would be like giving up halfway to the finish line. We’re going to have to work on it. I said I would never let you go. I meant it.”
Those words, spoken with his eyes fixed on me, reawakened it all. My suppressed desire for him and the passionate craving in my loins. Each element of my sexual being sprang to life in response to his ardent words. My heart jolted, waking me up. I couldn’t let him see my joy. I covered my smile with a hand. He had to earn my affection again. All I wanted him to know for now was that I’d opened the door for him.
I wiped the smile away and removed my hand. “Could I have some bread to go with this cheese?”
He leaped up. “Sure.”
For the next few minutes, Stefan concentrated on feeding me. He laid out soda bread, an apple, crackers and tomatoes.
“These look delicious.” I bit into the tomato and the juices squirted out around my lips. Tasted yummy too.
As soon as the last mouthful had slipped down my throat, I yawned.
“You’re tired. I’ll make up the guest bed.”
Alone in a bed in a strange house didn’t thrill me. As he walked past me, I grabbed his arm. “I would like company.” I squeezed his forearm.
He halted. The muscles under my fingers tensed. “Are you sure? I’m not going to touch you if you don’t want it.”
“I do want it, but just your embrace. Nothing else.” My exhausted body would not take much more of the day.
“I understand.”
He relaxed and I let go. I more than let go. Fresh salty tears formed unhindered. These I allowed after the ones I’d restrained all day. They filled my eyes, tipping over the brims, cascading down my cheeks. So different from the ones I’d shed on Monday night.
“Oh, Mausi.” He wrapped me in his arms, held me tight, stroking my back and kissing my hair.
I sobbed into his chest. “I need you,” I whispered.
“I’m going to work hard to regain your trust. No rush. When you’re ready, I’ll be yours again and you’ll be mine.” He tilted my chin up, held my face in his palms and kissed away my tears. “That’ll do for now,” he murmured.
He picked up my holdall and I followed him to the stairs. He flicked a switch and the steps lit up individually. The staircase swept around the walls, climbing the three stories.
“How old is this house?”
“A couple of hundred years,” he replied, pausing on a step. “My father modernized the interior ages ago. He kept the place after he split with Mum. I spent many a school holiday here.” He resumed his ascent.
I tried to picture a young Stefan chasing about the house, perhaps laughing. An endearing image.
The bedroom continued the contemporary makeover with fitted wardrobes and an en suite.
My skin prickled with the residue of anxious perspiration and the grime of a long journey. A shower would be ideal, but upon seeing the bed, I merely wanted to descend into oblivion.
I undressed. Stefan hovered, uncertain, fingering the belt of his trousers. I dug about in my luggage and found clean panties and a plain T-shirt. No nudity. No tempting flesh on display. As much as I wanted him—the telltale pulse of arousal at the apex of my thighs buzzed relentlessly—patience remained my goal. Sleep too. Stefan slipped out of his clothes, leaving on his boxers.
My head sank into the feather pillow and I curled into a fetal position. Behind me, Stefan edged closer, lifting up the bedcovers and rearranging them over both of us. His chest, belly then legs met my back and thighs.
I settled into him, sensing his warmth, his breathing and the pulse of his heartbeats—a gentle rhythm.
Sleep came instantaneously.
* * * *
I experienced another morning waking up confused by a strange bed and room. It came as no surprise to find Stefan absent. I rubbed my eyes, sat up and hugged my knees.
The bedroom door creaked open. “You’re awake.” He smiled. I’d forgotten how handsome his face could be when he broke into a smile. “I was going to offer you a typical continental breakfast—cheese, salami, black bread.”
I struggled to contain a look of distaste. He laughed. “Okay. How about croissants and jam?”
I nodded vigorously. “Please.”
“Take a shower.” He pointed at the en suite. “Then join me in the kitchen.”
Stefan, back in charge. It felt right, comforting, being compliant and agreeable.
The shower had a monsoon style head. I stood under the warmth and wetness, face up, and let the spray splash over my skin—gone the terrible anxiety of the last few days. Anger, despair, all slipped out of my system, joining the water heading for the plughole.
Stefan was back in my life. Drying my hair with a towel, I hummed, contented and fulfilled with good thoughts.
I joined him in the kitchen. We grinned at each other over the breakfast bar, munching on warm pastries and quaffing delicious, freshly ground coffee.
“Do you have a return flight booked?” asked Stefan.
I shook my head. “I’m playing it by ear.”
“And so far?” A brief pensive expression cast a shadow over his face.
“I’m in no rush to leave,” I reassured.
His features lit up. “Good. What about your job?”
“Bridge
t has been very accommodating, but I shouldn’t take advantage of her generosity for too long. The weekend isn’t a problem. After…” I stumbled. I didn’t want to impose, not if his father came home.
“Of course not. Bridget is a kind employer.”
“And you? When do you return?”
He frowned. “I spoke to the hospital this morning. Dad can come out tomorrow, or more likely Monday. He wants to leave today. The caregiver I’ve appointed arrives on Monday.”
I crushed a flake of pastry under my thumb. Two days. Just him and me.
“Do you fancy a swim?” he asked.
* * * *
He took me out through the back door into the garden, a square stretch of mown lawn and borders waiting to burst into spring bloom. Across the garden stood a timber building topped off by a V-shaped roof with one side covered in solar panels.
“This way.”
The pool house was warm and through the windowpanes lining the walls, light streamed through, adding an extra layer of coziness. The swimming pool measured a few meters wide by roughly ten in length. Not the kind of pool for practicing Olympic swimming. I crouched and dipped a hand in the water. It seemed as warm as the air about it.
I rose and faced Stefan. “It’s lovely.”
“Let’s go for a swim, then.” He went to undo his trouser buttons.
“Seriously?” I waved my hands up and down my body. “I don’t have a bikini.”
Stefan shrugged. “Neither do I.”
My eyes widened. “In the nude,” I whispered, as if we were speaking in public.
“Mausi, there is nobody here and we’re not overlooked. Why not?” He whipped off his shirt, tossing it onto a nearby sun lounger, one of several left out alongside the pool.
I couldn’t move. I’d hidden my nudity during the night, careful to keep him at bay. If I stripped off, it would level things back to how they were. Was I ready to see him naked and to have him take delight in me? I shuffled away from the edge of the pool, because visions of him chucking me in flashed through my head.
“Come on,” he encouraged, starting to shake down his pants.
I undressed in slow motion, carefully folding my clothes on the same sunbed. When it came to my underwear, my inhibitions kept me immobilized. I caught sight of his naked form. His figure remained tantalizing. Those carved, muscular buttocks with their smooth dimples, the soft hairs on his legs and chest, darkening his pale skin, and his long fingers, manicured and slender. All of him kept me magically entranced. His penis appeared inactive, benign. I took that as a good sign. He did want to swim.
I wriggled out of my knickers and snapped my bra off. By then, Stefan had taken the plunge, the water splashing up onto the tiles by my feet. I didn’t dive or jump into water. I preferred to enter in my own time and I took it. I perched on the edge and dipped my feet in. Gradually, I lowered my lower body into the water and let out a small shriek as it lapped up over my erect nipples.
“Good, ya?”
The German affirmation reminded me that he was on his home turf. What to me felt strange and unusual was to him normal—a morning’s impromptu swim. He pushed off and swam to the other end of the pool in a matter of a few strokes. I followed using my version of the breaststroke, which meant that my head stayed out of the water. He’d already begun another length by the time I’d reached the far end. A slightly shallower end, the water came to just below my breasts.
We remained out of synch for a few lengths. He swam with purpose, taking only two breaths for each length. I gasped, splashing unnecessarily. One pass, he flicked water in my face. I squealed, wiping the spray out of my eyes. Two could play that game. The next time we met, I scooped up water in my hand and fired it directly into his face. He ducked his head under, missing the worst. I scowled at my lack of accuracy. It began a mini battle of splashing and the end of any serious swimming. In the middle of the pool, we waged a water fight.
The tension drained away. Whether it had been his intention to force me to unwind, I didn’t know, but it worked. I giggled until my ribs ached. He dived under, trying to grab my ankles and flip me over. It took a few attempts before he achieved his goal. He lifted me up and backward, I flapped my arms uselessly at my side, before sinking, spluttering with mouthfuls of water.
I staggered to my feet. “You bastard,” I shrieked.
I tried to exact some kind of revenge, but he was nimble and I wallowed about like a lumbering elephant. Each time we came closer to each other, our skin touched. The backs of his hands brushed against my thigh, or his elbow nudged my back as I spun out of his way. It became increasingly hard not to make contact. I shoved him away at one point with my hands on his chest. Then one time I successfully caught him off balance and he stumbled backward, splashing and disappearing under.
He stayed there. I waited for him to come back up, but he didn’t. He floated below the surface and I panicked. Had I hurt him?
I stepped forward, dragging my heavy legs through the water, and just as I reached him, he sprang up. I screamed, waving my hands about in shock. “Beast!”
He laughed. “You’re so easy to fool.”
I straightened up, moving backward slightly. “Fool? Easy?” I was sure he’d meant them in jest, but the words had offended my still-sensitive nature. I didn’t like the implication that he could trick me into doing what he liked.
The smirk vanished from his face. “What?”
“Nothing.” I shrugged. Perhaps I was being overly sensitive.
“Oh no, Mausi. New rules. You don’t hide behind a frown. Neither of us does. If I’d opened up to you about my family problems last Sunday, you would have felt so shut out by me.” He paused. “Would you have stayed? If I’d told you.”
The water settled and I wrapped my arms about my chest, conscious of my nudity. “Yes. I might have. Probably.”
“I really didn’t give you a chance to get to know me, did I?” Water dripped off the end of his nose and he shook it off with a snort.
“No,” I hastened to say. “I put up barriers too. I ran off at the first sign of you backing off and it wasn’t the kindest thing to do, given your obvious…distractions. It’s what I did with…Micah.” I uttered the name of my absent ex-boyfriend with distaste. Thinking his name was hard enough—saying it, I wanted to wash my mouth out.
“Micah?” Stefan edged closer, cocking his head to one side.
“My two-year relationship with a man who liked company when it suited him, not me. I got used to giving him a wide berth when he didn’t need me. When he did, well, I got sucked into his life, his friends, and let him milk me.” The bitterness went on longer than I’d intended. I stopped.
“Ah. I take it you chucked him?”
“Eventually. After lots of false tries. He liked space just as much as company. We met on his terms. I realized that now because…”
“I demanded you stay.”
“Not demanded—you asked and I declined. Please, it’s water under the bridge, isn’t it?” I stood, dripping, shivering slightly. The irony wasn’t lost on me. I grinned and splashed a handful of water at him, breaking him out of his contemplations.
“You’re right. We’re starting again. No more secrets.”
He dived at me, and for a few minutes, we returned to our playful games.
“Enough.” I held up my hand. “I need to catch my breath.”
“You and your lungs. Swimming is excellent preparation for a wind player. Singers too. You should learn to swim underwater.”
I shook my head vigorously. “I hate it.”
“Pity. So much fun to be had down there.”
We both locked on to each other’s eyes. The moment had come to decide—did I want him back? Completely, utterly back in my life?
I edged backward, heading toward the shallow end. He matched my footsteps, as I slid my feet along the smooth surface of the pool floor. My heart quickened. A remorseless flock of butterflies flew out of my epicenter, busying themselves with pre
paring me for him. I ran out of room.
He trapped me. With my bottom pressed against the tiles, I’d reached the end of the pool, but he continued to move toward me. As the pool depth lessened, he rose and planted a hand on either side of me, leaning on the edge. Under the ripples, I saw his erection, his upright cock, fully aroused. He jutted his pelvis forward and nudged it against me. It was a weird sensation, having an erection probe me underwater.
I flattened my palms against the tiles behind me and balanced on my tiptoes. Surrounded by water, its wetness masking another kind. I couldn’t feel it and could only guess at the state of my excited pussy. Crikey, it practically shouted at me to be filled. I squeezed my thighs together, and his erection chafed again. He dragged his sheath across my belly, and I felt the hardness beneath the undulating foreskin.
I looked up, straight into his eyes. I froze. The intensity of his eyes locked mine into a lasting gaze. Those dark locks of hair, which once had bounced uncontrollably about his face, had been compressed into matted strands. Beads of water dripped from his nose and goatee, splattering the surface of the pool. He ran his tongue around his lips. The warm water might have masked my quivering skin, but it couldn’t compete with the molten core of my sex. Pleasure tingled deep within, brought on by a rush of erotically inspired adrenaline.
He lowered his mouth and I lifted mine, tilting my head to one side. Just as he touched my lips, I closed my eyes, blocking out the daylight. A slow, lingering kiss. He explored my mouth with his tongue, darting it in and out, running it along the edge of my teeth. He rocked against me, making sure I couldn’t ignore his erection. The temptation grew too strong. I grasped it with both hands and gently squeezed the head of his cock.
His mouth broke free and a groan escaped. “Mausi. Say yes, let me in.”
I could hold back. Make him work for it. Tease him with my body. I didn’t have the resolve or inclination to keep him adrift any longer. I released his cock and rested my head on his shoulder. “Fuck me,” I muttered to his collarbone. “Hard.”
A foolish request, perhaps, to make of a man like Stefan. He always fucked hard. I’d just invited him to take me like no other man. He growled, like a lion approaching a lioness, a soft deep purr from the back of his throat. He didn’t need to stalk me through the long grass. He’d ensnared me and I’d offered myself to him.
