The Housekeeper's Daughter

by Palmer, Dee

  “Hey, princess.” His breath kisses the skin on my neck, and then I tingle from top to toe when his lips touch just below my ear.

  “Cass,” I sigh, moaning, and stretch out, twisting so I am facing him, and he is half hovering above my prone body. A sleepy smile stretches my face wide to almost splitting in two. I can’t believe my eyes, so I reach up to touch his face. “You,” I whisper, and it’s his turn to mirror my face-splitting grin.

  “Me.” His eyes search my face, taking everything in, and I can feel my cheeks get just a little hotter under his scrutiny. It’s possible my eyes are still swollen from crying myself to sleep, but it’s more likely the raw flush to my cheeks is causing the crinkle of curiosity to settle on his brow.

  “It’s really you? I was just—” I stop myself too late, and his lips quirk with knowing amusement.

  “Yes?” He shifts so his weight is pressing me down, and he is able to keep eye contact as I try to evade his inquisition.

  “Nothing.” I shake my head vigorously, causing him to blurt out a deep throaty laugh.

  “Oh, no, you don’t. Come on, Tia, what were you just then…hmm?” he goads, running his nose lightly either side of mine before planting a delicate kiss on the end.

  “Shut up.”

  “Tia, tell me, or I’ll guess.” He wiggles his brows wickedly, and I scrunch my eyes shut, willing the visual flashbacks of my dream to stop popping into my head and being so blatantly apparent on my mortified face.

  “Oh, God,” I groan.

  “Oh, I don’t think this conversation is one for Him, do you?” he teases and holds my gaze expectantly. I let out an exasperated breath and have to close my eyes again. Ground, swallow me now.

  “Gah, I was dreaming about you,” I blurt and try to wriggle out from under him. He slips to the side of my body and pulls me flush against his much larger frame. His mouth is once again just below my neck. I shiver as a slew of goosebumps dance where his breath touches.

  “I got that much. I want specifics. Your face is this adorable pink, which really only happens when I catch you staring at my—”

  “Cass!” I cry out, and he buries his face in my hair, chuckling. He pulls back and finishes his sentence.

  “Cock.”

  “Oh, God!” I cover my eyes with my one free hand, but he picks it free and entwines his fingers, resting both our hands across my tummy.

  “Really, Tia, let’s keep Him out of this. Now tell me exactly what I was doing to this sexy little body.” He rolls his hips gently against my bottom, and there is not an inch of him I can’t feel in my core.

  “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “I’m really not, so come on, spill.” I draw in a fortifying breath, and as always, give Cass exactly what he demands.

  “I dreamt it was my first time…you know.”

  “Our first time, oh, yes, please. Now I really need to hear the details.” He kisses the back of my neck all along my hairline, and my mouth goes dry. I squeeze my thighs together, because right there I am just melting.

  “Please don’t make me do this,” I plead on a breathy whisper.

  “Tia, we won’t actually have sex until you’re legal, so the least we can do is tell each other how we imagine it will be.”

  “Why? I mean, you know I want to, right?” I protest.

  “Yes, my little love, I know that, but I’m eighteen, and you’re fifteen. That’s statutory rape. End of conversation,” he states flatly.

  “But I wouldn’t—”

  “I know, but it wouldn’t be up to you,” he interrupts my shocked reply.

  “Who would know? I wouldn’t tell, and you wouldn’t tell, and unless there’s cameras—”

  “No, no cameras, but it’s still a no, Tia. I won’t risk it. I won’t risk us. I can wait, and you can, too, but in the meantime, please continue with story time.” He softens the sting of his refusal with a series of warm and tempting kisses along my jaw to my lips. “It’s what I think about all the damn time. It would be nice to know what you dream it will be like.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely.” He’s emphatic in his tone, and that alone obliterates any trace of rejection.

  “Okay, well, we were in the attic, and there’s a mass of cushions, like the fort we used to build, but piled together in the middle of the room,” I begin, snuggling back into his embrace.

  “I can do that.”

  “It was just a dream, Cass.”

  “I know, but dreams are your subconscious wishes. So if I can make your wishes a reality, I will. Now continue.” I smile from the warm glow his words evoke inside me, radiating through every fibre and making my heart swell.

  “It wasn’t dark, but the light was fading. There were maybe a hundred candles flickering, and the sunlight still managed to hit particles of dust; the whole room seemed to sparkle. It was magical. I wasn’t nervous, but my heart was beating hard, and you placed you hand right here to feel it.” I point to the bottom of the v on my sweater just above my heart. “I don’t remember what I was wearing, but you peeled the layers off, and I did the same. My fingers were moving so fast. You placed your hand over mine and told me there’s no rush. We both laughed. My laugh sounded more nervous than yours.” I turn to look up at him. He smiles wide and pulls me a little closer against his body. There’s not a millimetre of space between us. It’s perfect. He has one arm resting under my head, the other resting over my hip, his long fingers tracing the waistband of my jeans. He pops the first button, then the next until his hand is flat against my tummy. I’m acutely aware of his rock-hard erection pressing into the curve of my bottom. I swallow the lump in my throat and let out a whimper when his fingers stroke the edge of my panties.

  “Carry on, Tia.” His voice is hoarse, deeper somehow from only a moment ago, and I take comfort in the fact that it sounds a little strained.

  ”Your hands were strong and sure, sweeping across my body, unhooking my bra, and then you…um, you had my breast in your hand.”

  “Like this.”

  “Oh, um, yes.” I puff out a cooling breath. I can’t help but arch into his touch. His hands are much larger than my soft round flesh in his palm. He squeezes gently and runs the pad of his thumb over my aching nipple. He can’t see, but my eyes roll to the heavens at the feel of him on me. It’s electric and sensual and all things delicious, and I want more. I want it all.

  “Tia, what happened next?” His voice brings me back from my ultimate desire.

  “You kissed me.”

  “I like kissing you.”

  “I like that, too. You kissed me for what felt like a lifetime.”

  “I could live with that.” I can feel his lips smile against my neck, and I sigh out the words.

  “So could I.”

  “Then?” he asks, clearing his throat with a sharp, deep cough.

  “We kept kissing, but your hands moved down my body, and you lifted me in your arms and carried me to the bed.”

  “Mmm.” He rocks his hips, pulling me against him, and I’m so damn hot, I feel like I have liquid fire pumping through my veins.

  “You laid me down and crawled up my body. God, I want you so much,” I groan, writhing against his body as much as I can at this angle.

  “How much?”

  “Heart and soul, Cass, remember?”

  “Trust me, Tia, I’m never going to forget that,” he states with absolutely certainty.

  I let out a strangled whimper and attempt to finish my tale. “I…I opened my legs, and you felt so good between them. I hooked my ankles high around your waist, and I could feel you.”

  “Where?”

  “I…I…”

  “Here? Could you feel me here Tia?” With his question, his hand slides purposefully inside my panties, his bold fingers stroking along my soaking wet folds.

  “Oh, oh Cass…yes, yes, please,” I beg, and short sharp breaths escape with each word.

  “Shh, tell me what happened next.
”

  “You…you were inside me…Oh, God, Cass!” He slides two fingers inside me and pumps in and out, a perfect gentle rhythm that makes my toes curl. I can’t breathe. Bright sparks of light dart behind my tightly-squeezed lids as he ignites something primal inside of me, an explosion at the base of my spine that rips through me with such power and speed, I quake. Only his strong embrace has me tethered to this world as I float on another plane, his sensual touch tenderly guiding me back to earth.

  “Cass?” I turn in his arms. His eyes are wide with wonder, and he has the most amazing smile illuminating his face. He steals my breath away all over again.

  “Wow, that was pretty fucking amazing, Tia. My balls ache like a bitch, but that was so worth it, having you come on my fingers like that. It was incredible; you’re incredible.”

  “Oh, um, do you want me to…um.”

  “No, Tia, I mean my balls will still ache regardless. That problem will only be sated by one thing, and my right hand, or yours, for that matter, isn’t going to cut it. Besides, I’m trying to be good here, and I know for a fact I won’t be able to stop myself if your hands are on me like that. So distract me from that please, and tell me what happened next?”

  “Next?” I hesitate, because I’m pretty sure that’s where the dream ended.

  “Yeah.” His expression doesn’t reflect my thoughts, and then I remember.

  “I cried.”

  “You cried?” He smiles, and I get an icy chill up my spine from nowhere, and just as quickly it’s gone.

  The back of his hand brushes my cheek, and his lips cover mine. It feels so good, I’d forget my name, let alone what the hell that was. I look into his eyes, hold the gaze as he holds me, and I whisper.

  “You felt so good, Cass. I felt good, like I was whole, fixed. It was perfect.” I can feel the tears now, bursting before I can blink them back. He catches a trickle with his thumb, wiping the skin dry before sucking it into his mouth.

  “Yes, perfect.” His voice is so low and gravelly I only know the words because I can read them on his lips. He’s perfect.

  “What are you doing here?” I twist in his arms and beam my brightest smile, relishing the feel of his body against mine and still burning up from what he just did. I can’t believe he just did that. I opt for this question even if inner hussy is itching to ask when he might do that again.

  “Um, my house, I live here.”

  “Barely.” I sniff and wriggle out of his hold and shuffle up to sitting cross-legged.

  He props his head on his hand, but his body is still gloriously stretched out on the mass of crumpled cloths.

  “Ah, don’t be like that, Tia, or I won’t make you come again.” He flashes a nefarious knowing grin, and I nigh on combust with the heat instantly hitting my cheeks.

  “Cass!” My tone is more shocked with a heavy helping of embarrassment.

  “What? Don’t you want to come again?” His white blond locks fall over his piercing eyes, and he waggles his brow playfully. I may be blushing like a beacon, but when he says those words, I melt from the inside out.

  “Um… I’ll take the fifth on that one, please. Now, answer the question?” I bite my lips to stop the telling smile splitting my face. He knows, and the last thing his ego needs is more affirmation of how much he owns me.

  “Not sure that applies to Brits, Tia,” he quips and answers part of my question. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  “Okay, but why are you back?”

  “Always with the questions?” He chuckles. “I’m back because of my grandpa, and that’s who I want you to come and meet.”

  “Oh.”

  “Come on, he’s downstairs, probably grilling your mother.” He jumps neatly to his feet, and I have to tilt my head back to keep the eye contact. Towering over me and peering into my eyes from this angle, I swear he is staring right through me. His features darken, and if I didn’t know him better, I would question my safety, that look is so lethal. He holds his hand out to help me to my feet.

  “Aren’t you going to wash your hands?” I nod toward the en suite when I refuse to take the offered hand, and I wrinkle my nose at his reply.

  “Absolutely not.” He lifts his fingers to his face and sucks the middle two slowly into his mouth.

  “Oh, God!” I cover my eyes, but that doesn’t stop the sound of him enjoying every second of licking his fingers clean.

  “What?” His tone is all innocence.

  “Look at my face. What do you mean ‘what?’ I’m lit up like a super nova, and you’re going to introduce me to your grandfather with—”

  “Your scent all over my fingers.” He takes a quick but mortifying sniff, and I just want the earth to open up and take me now. “I’ve cleaned them, Tia. I didn’t have you pegged as a prude,” he teases.

  “I don’t think you can level that label at me after what we just did,” I scoff.

  “No, you’re right, and especially considering what else we plan to do.” He steps closer, and with his hand around my waist, he pulls me flush to his hard body, his rock-hard body.

  “Oh, God,” I whimper.

  “Him again.” Cass sighs, rolling his eyes. He shakes his head, his tone lightly reprimanding. “Now, Tia, why is He getting all the credit when it’s me doing all the work.”

  “You’re the devil, you know that?” I put my hands flat on his chest and push him away, laughing at his brazenness.

  “I believe I told you I was,” he continues with the warning lilt to his voice.

  “You’re not the Devil, Atticus, but you are wicked.” I point my own warning finger his way, which he grabs and uses to tug me closer.

  “Tell yourself that if it gives you comfort, Tia. I have no doubt I will remind you of this conversation at some point in your future,” he mutters, and I’m not sure I heard the last part at all, it was so softly spoken.

  “Hmm? I didn’t quite—” He shakes his head and interrupts.

  “Come on, Tia. I want you to meet my second favourite person in the world.” I hesitate to follow.

  “I still have to finish cleaning this room. My mum will kill me if she comes back, and it’s still not ready.” I try to argue, but he brushes me off.

  “She won’t kill you, and I will help you later. Come on.” He opens the door and stretches his arms for me to dip underneath. “He’s the best; you’re gonna love him.”

  “If he’s anything like you, I’m sure I will.” I snicker.

  “Aw, Tia, you’ll make me blush.”

  “I doubt that’s even possible,” I snark.

  “You could be right.” He shrugs, his expression not holding the least trace of remorse. “I have no shame and a wicked mind hell bent on corrupting a certain young lady.” He slides his hand into my jeans pocket and grabs my arse cheek with a squeeze that’s a little too firm. I squeal and jump forward, his hand still staking its claim on my denim-clad flesh.

  “You’re not so very wicked Cass Kruse. After all, it’s you who has drawn a very clear line regarding having sex with me, and I’m nearly sixteen. I’m only just underage.”

  “I’ve drawn a fuzzy line, and believe me, I intend on taking us as close to that as I can bear,” he clarifies, and I feel the heat start to build when his eyes meet mine, if only for a brief moment.

  He’s keeping us both walking at a fair pace along the gallery from the guest wing to the main stairway. I have to skip a few strides to keep up.

  “Torture us both, you mean.”

  “Precisely, but there’s no pleasure without a little pain.” His voice drops deep and low; it makes my skin prickle like millions of my hairs are charged live with electricity and are standing at full attention.

  “You’re a little wicked, aren’t you?” I laugh, but I keep my voice in a hushed whisper, as we are now nearing the top of the grand stairway, which leads to the vast entrance hall, and anyone could be listening. Atticus stops, steps in front, and turns to face me, a move so abrupt, I crash into his ch
est. He barely moves, absorbing all my momentum into his large frame.

  “I did warn you,” he says, and I smile softly.

  “You did, you really did, but since when does the heart ever listen to the head, hmm?”

  “It’s not your heart I’m after, Tia.”

  “You have my soul, Atticus, you always have.”

  “Good.” His hands are under my arms, lifting me high enough so I can wrap my legs around his waist. He seems so much bigger in every respect, not just his height, but there’s something else about him that’s so changed. His mere presence, his assured demeanour and commanding tone, make me wonder if there’s a single thing I could deny him if he asked. His lips cover mine in a rough, passionate, and deeply possessive manner that would make my knees weak and wobbly if I was standing. Breaking the kiss almost as quickly as he began, he grins wildly and drops me to my feet. I’m a little dazed until he grabs my hand. I do, however, stumble to catch up to his long purposeful strides the remainder of the distance to the library.

  “Is your mother here?” I ask.

  “You’re funny. Like I would do that to you.”

  “Sorry, I just —” He doesn’t let me finish; he never does when the subject is his mother, and he is always so quick to try and make me feel better.

  “Really, you don’t have to explain, Tia, and you certainly have nothing to apologise for. My mother is a bitch to you. She won’t ever stop, either, but it’s only because you mean so much to me. If it’s any comfort, she avoids you as much as you avoid her. We’re always together when I’m here, and she knows I will not stand by and let her treat you the way she does, and she’s terrified of being exposed as the unbearable snob she is. It’s not an ideal situation, but my only concern is keeping you protected, so I’m happy with her absence.”