Driven Wild (7 page)

“I’ve a very sore bottom,” she said quietly. Her hand moved across his soft suede jacket and came to rest on his chest. She could feel the rapid breathing, the pace of his quickening heart.

“You should put something on it. Camomile is soothing,” he suggested in a voice as soft as his jacket.

“Except I don’t think I can reach back there very well,” she said coyly.

His hazel eyes, with their dark surrounds, glistened, picking up the rays of light from the outdoor lamp. The corner of his lips curled upwards, a quirky smile. “Would you like some assistance?”

“That would be very helpful,” she replied, sliding her hand down his front. Just as she reached his waistline, he caught her wrist, paralysing it in his grasp, neither tightly nor gently, directing it away from her target.

Leah became aware of how cold the night air had become. Her exhale left a white mist, a visual sign of her rapid breathing. The cool wind picked up the edge of her coat, rising up her dress and blew against her naked sex. She let out a tiny sound, a little exclamation of surprise.

“You’re cold,” said Rick. Taking her hand, he led her to the front door, allowing her the chance to find her keys and unlock the door.

Leah flicked on a few light switches, lighting up the tiled hallway and the staircase, curving up the central support wall.

“Probably easiest if you lie on your bed,” he said. Helping her slip off her coat, he kicked off his shoes, leaving them alongside her own.

“Yes,” she agreed. “Probably.”

He followed her up the bare wooden stairs. Her hand slid along the smooth oak banister rail; she let it linger slightly behind her as if it was bait.

Leah’s bed was her pride and joy, her sanctuary from the outside world. On the pillow lay her childhood teddy bear, waiting to greet her. She would often talk to him as if he were a real person. The bedside light lit up the room. She had avoided bright decorations, keeping to simple floral designs.

“Lie on your belly,” he instructed her. “Where is the lotion?”

“Bathroom cabinet.”

He disappeared for a few minutes, long enough for her to lie down and take in the enormity of her situation. The man who had less than an hour earlier spanked her, was about to touch her again. This time he would be gentle and she desperately wanted him to know she needed more from him. The attraction, which she thought she had safely buried deep in her mind, had resurfaced the moment Rick reappeared on her doorstep. Now that he was back, there would be no backing off, no childish behaviour to dissuade him.

The lotion bottle in his hand, he returned to the room. Slipping off his jacket, he tossed it on the nearby chair. Then, as if to make a point of his intentions, he rolled up his sleeves. For the second time that evening, Rick lifted up her skirt, revealing her still nude bottom.

“Just a few welts. Though you will feel it tomorrow,” he remarked.

“I’m sure,” she agreed. The sting had gone, but the heated throbbing remained.

He poured the camomile onto his palm, rubbing his hands together and then rested his hands on her buttocks, one on each.

“Oh, bloody hell!” she shrieked. “That’s cold!”

Rick chuckled. “Isn’t that helpful?” He eased the lotion over her buttocks, taking the edge off both the heat and the stark cold cream.

Leah closed her eyes and revelled in the odd sensations. He was being gentle, applying very little pressure as he smeared the lotion all around her tender flesh.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

“My marks?” she asked.

“No. Your shapely bottom.”

“I’m glad you like it,” she said. Touching her bottom, she felt softness and a residual warmth radiating out from the delicate marks. She caught her breath; those marks spoke to her, calling to her. She didn’t feel repulsed by their presence. Perhaps she should, but she couldn’t bring herself to dislike them. Rick had withdrawn his hands and she wanted them back. Not on her tender bottom, but in her between spaces, where her lust had taken root, beckoning to him. His eyes dallied there; she knew he could see her arousal.

“Would you lie next to me?” She shuffled sideways, giving him room.

Rick lay down next to her on his side and the two faced each other. His forefinger traced down the side of her face. “I’ve resisted this face for three years. Every time it reappeared, I banished it away. It hasn’t been easy, trying to forget you. I failed.”

“I’m glad you failed,” said Leah. “Because I did too. Nobody filled your shoes. Nobody made me feel safe. Nobody took care of me like you did.”

“Your father…” he began to say.

“Looked after my material needs. I miss him. I don’t want anyone to take his place. You, Rick, bring out other desires. You know that though.”

“Yes,” he said. “Let me show you how I can meet those desires in you. I will be gentle, if this is your first time.”

Her finger pressed on his lips. “It isn’t. But it will be the best to date, that I can guarantee.”

Their lips came together, having crept closer and closer and she let out a deep sigh as he ran his tongue about her moist mouth. His hands roved up and down her blouse, groping to find her buttons, then her brassiere. The scramble to undress, a fumbling prelude, quickly enacted and completed, resulting in a pile of clothes on floor.

Now Leah had a chance to admire a naked Rick and she was elated with what she saw. Lean, muscular, and smooth-skinned. Only a tiny forest of dark hairs covered his chest and she twirled her fingers in their midst as he continued to pepper her with kisses.

Rick nudged her, pushing her backwards, and she lay still while his fingers explored between her legs. The now familiar forefinger slid between her folds, pushing her swollen lips apart. Leah convulsed slightly, and a burst of electricity shot through her body as he expertly teased and probed her wet core until she opened wide for him.

As he knelt between her spread legs, she saw his cock, admired its length and girth. He held it in his fist—tugging, massaging it until it glistened with pre-cum from the tip. The purple end lowered, ready to push into her.

“I don’t want to be rough,” he said, breathless.

“Do what you want,” she moaned. “Hard and deep, please. Let me feel you, know you’re really here and this isn’t a dream.”

He thrust into her, and she gave about him, stretching her tight pussy until he reached the hilt. Leaning over her, hands on either side of her head, he incarcerated Leah. Slightly disconcerted by his commanding stance, she squirmed a little, watching his face for a reaction. With a wry smile, he lowered his mouth and sought out a nipple. His mouth encased it, and she could feel the suction as the apex of her breast drew deep into his orifice. She winced as his teeth held her nipple, then he let it go and he repeated his little tease on her other breast.

She grabbed at his shoulders, clinging to him. “Oh, please, please,” implored Leah.

He did as she asked. He pounded into her, letting her release all her pent-up emotions, all the years of holding him at bay, dismissing him from her waking and sleeping dreams. She couldn’t stop the orgasm. It came over fast and struck her like a tidal wave.

“Again, beauty,” he grunted, continuing his own relentless thrusts.

She clawed at his back as her sensitive clitoris reengaged and her red buttocks chafed on the bed covers. She didn’t care; it added to all the raw emotions circulating her erotically drenched body.

His hazel eyes closed briefly as he came, mouth dropping open with a deep groan of satisfaction. As he filled her to the brim with his come, she joined him for another climax.

Rick crashed down on top of her and then quickly rolled off.

“Wow, that was good,” he said, wheezing.

“Are you alright?” she asked, lying against his body. She remembered he had asthma.

“Yes, yes. Really good,” he smiled at her. “Rest. Then, perhaps we should eat.”

Her eyelids drooped and he wrapped the bedcover about her body as she drifted off into sleep.

* * *

Leah woke to the smell of cooking. Slipping on a bathrobe, she cautiously went downstairs. Rick stood in the kitchen wearing nothing but his trousers and vest. Standing over her stove, he was stirring something in a saucepan.

“Smells delicious. What is it?” She peered over his arm, skimming a kiss on his rounded bicep as she leaned forward.

“My favourite,” grinned Rick. “Macaroni cheese! I will bake it for a little, in the oven. You can bathe and then it will be ready.”

Leah thought it a good plan. Later, scraping the dish clean, she complimented him on his cooking skills.

“Limited,” he confessed. “There were always chefs where I worked.”

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” she said, laying her fork down.

“About what?” He shifted his eyes away from her face.

“Why you left Italy. I don’t think it was entirely about coming back here.”

“No. I can’t talk about it. It would be better for you if I didn’t.”

“I see. Well, no, I don’t. But I’m not going to push you.”

“How’s your bum?” He changed the subject.

“Tender and… a good reminder,” she admitted. “What next? For us?”

“I’m your driver, contracted for six months. I’ll take you to work, to wherever you want to go. But I won’t take any nonsense in my car. You will behave, Miss Leah,” he said slyly.

“Agreed,” said Leah tentatively. “What about upstairs? That wasn’t a one-off?”

“Not for me. You?”

“Oh, no. I would like to do that again. But you’re my driver…” Her voice trailed away.

“Your estate pays me. Think of it that way.”

“It’s not that.” She brushed the long hair out of her face. For the first time since he had spanked her in the warehouse, her eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

“What?” he said, alarmed, reaching out to touch her hand.

“I need help,” she said, and the tears began to fall. “I’m such a mess, Rick. I have friends, girlfriends, but they just don’t understand how anyone with all this money, these opportunities, can feel so empty. Since Daddy died, I’ve just about held on to this job. I can’t get up in the morning. I drink too much and, and…”

Her voice fell away into sobs. Rick pulled on her arm, drew her across to his side of the kitchen table, and sat her on his knee.

“I’m going to take care of you, just like last time. I will get you up every morning, tuck you up at night, make sure you are safe. All those things, but this time it will be different. I’m not going to hold back, Leah. I will spank you if you don’t look after yourself and if you are rude and argumentative towards me. However, now I can kiss you better, I can hold you, embrace and make love to you too. What do you say to that, Miss Leah?”

She wiped her nose on her sleeve, just like a small child, and he shook his head in mock indignation.

“I would like that. Please.”

Chapter Five

The best way to get Leah up in the morning, decided Rick, was to sleep with her. It might seem too soon, too quick, but it all fitted together very easily. Why go back to his pokey flat every night, all the way across the city, when she needed him in the mornings, bright and early? She offered him a spare room. It made sense for him to have his privacy. Their relationship had barely begun, they had to catch up, grow used to each other’s company, find the common ground, and learn to tolerate habits and daily routines.

In the morning, she drank tea, Rick preferred coffee. He ate cereal, Leah had toast. She had the luxury of an electric shower, which she rarely used as she favoured the bath. He couldn’t believe his fortune as he had become accustomed to showering while living abroad. It was during the evenings that they had to adjust and accommodate each other.

Once back from work, Leah still had matters to sort out regarding her father’s estate. The legacy of such a vast business empire and her undefined role in its future. She could sell all of her shares and walk away from it, very rich and free of all responsibilities. Or, she told Rick, she could maintain an interest, as her father would have wished.

Rick’s evenings, so soon after returning to the UK, had meant little to him. He had rediscovered some of his mates, found them in their pubs and dens, tempting him to talk about his exploits abroad. That was the problem; he couldn’t. It wasn’t ethical in one case and dangerous in the other. He joked off their questions and kept his head down. Instead, he showed a passing interest in football, the docks, or the rise of immigrants to the city. All topical but not of any great interest to Rick.

Leah sewed. She designed her own dresses, skirts, and blouses, inspired by the fashion catalogues she pored over and helped create. Sitting at her Singer sewing table, the mechanism whirred as she dreamt up dresses for every occasion. He would smile as she twirled about the room, showing off her latest creation. She had aptitude, he thought, but what did he know, he had very little experience of fashion.

The first two weeks came and went, with him basking in the newfound delight of regular sex with an attractive woman. Leah melted in the bedroom, when she invited him in, which was most nights. Gradually the balance shifted and she stopped inviting and let him decide. He would knock on her door and slip in, climb between the sheets, and begin to explore her fascinating body with his hands and tongue. She never said no to him.

Making love to her had altered in preference too. Leah quickly demonstrated she liked Rick to be bold, almost fearsome with his body. She revelled in his hard thrusts, visibly showing her delight if he bent her delectable body into a new position, taking his own senses on an exploratory mission. She learnt quickly; neither novice nor experienced, she allowed him the upper hand and moulded her form to his designs.

Oral sex she took to with ease and quickly showed him she had talent. It was one night, as he fingered her tiny anal bud, that she protested at him.

“No?” he said, rocking his hard cock between her cleft.

“I’m not sure,” she stuttered.

“Not yet, then,” he said. He didn’t doubt he could convince her otherwise.