Faith (9 page)

His eyes narrow. “Yes. Don’t argue with me. I know what I’m talking about. It’s my breath.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. But please, could you fuck me now?”

“I could. But is there some rush? Somewhere you need to be? Your lovely meal about to be burnt to a crisp perhaps?”

I grimace, conscious of my new thong, drenched and quite possibly beyond redemption by now. “No. It’s me who might self-combust.”

“Ah, so eager. I do admire enthusiasm, but you would do well to learn patience too, little Faith. It’ll be all the better for waiting.” He makes no move to put me out of my misery.

“Maybe, I could, I will. But not right now. Please.” I could remove the rest of my clothing myself, for all the difference it’s making, but I don’t. Ewan is setting the pace here. It’s not the pace I prefer, but I know I’ll succumb to his wishes anyway.

“Definitely. But you’re right, now’s not the time.”

Thank God!
He steps behind me and unfastens my bra. The cream lace slithers down my arms and drops onto the carpet. I wait, expecting him to slide my thong away too, but instead he places his hands on my shoulders and turns me to face the bed.

“I want you to lean forward and open your legs. Arch your back for me.”

I twist to look at him over my shoulder. “What? Why?”

“Humour me, Faith. I’ll make it worth your while. I promise.”

Still not quite comfortable with this turn of events, I do as he asks. I bend at the waist to place my hands on the end of the bed.

“Further. I want your bum in the air. Lower your upper body more, lean on your elbows.”

I comply, quashing my feelings of self-consciousness as he moves to stand behind me. The scrap of lace is still in place covering most of my pussy, but I feel exposed even so. I flinch as his palm cups the curve of my right buttock.

“Lovely arse, Faith.”

“Er, thank you. I think.” Usually when I present myself in this manner, at least of late, it has been in expectation of a spanking at Fairlawns. Even then, I don’t feel nearly so exposed, so vulnerable. A spanking is not what Ewan has in mind, I’m certain of that. But his interest in my bum is beyond doubt.

He caresses my bottom, using both his hands to ease the cheeks apart. The narrow strip of lace between my buttocks slips to one side and I know he’s looking at my rear hole. I shift on my feet, embarrassed to the core.

“Ewan…?”

“Hush, love. Let me look at you. I won’t hurt you.”

“I know, but…” My words come to an abrupt end as he pulls the strip of lace fully aside to reveal my pussy.

“Mmm, so wet. Glistening.”

He trails his fingertip around the outline of my inner lips. I gasp, clenching.

“You like that?”

“Yes, I fucking like that. Ewan, stop teasing me. You know what I want.”

“I know you want me to fuck you. You said so. You didn’t tell me you wanted this…” He slides two fingers inside me. I let out a low, keening moan. “…but I think perhaps you do. Am I right?”

“Yes.” I grind my teeth together.

“So, shall I continue then?”

“Yes.”

“Manners, Faith. Say please.” He adds a third finger, then stops.

My cunt is full, stretched, but his motionless digits deliver frustration rather than delight. I writhe and clench around him. “Ewan, stop this. I need to come.”

“Then say please.”

“Please. Please, please,
please!
”

My compliance is rewarded with several sharp, well-directed thrusts, each one making exquisite contact with my G-spot. He shifts his stance a little and reaches around me with his other hand to lay the pad of his index finger over my clit. He rubs, his touch light at first, then firming his strokes as I gasp and start to gyrate my hips.

“You want more, little Faith.”

“Yes. More, please.”

“Come for me, Faith. Now.”

I wriggle some more, groping my way across the sensual plateau towards the free fall of orgasm. I’m close, but not there yet.

“I said, now!”

“Ewan, I…”

“Now.” His tone is harsh, his fingers playing my body like a musical instrument. I realise that he is in control, manipulating my progress towards release, insisting I come, but supplying slightly too little stimulation to push me to that point. I need to cover the additional distance on my own, by sheer force of will. His will.

I’m there, tumbling, spinning, my body spasming in helpless surrender as I finally drag myself across the finish line. Not one to deal in half measures, his commands obeyed, Ewan increases the tempo of his finger-fucking. My orgasm flows like a tap, hard and fast, intense, carrying my senses away with it. I’m whimpering, clutching at the duvet cover under my hands as the waves of my release wash through me.

At last it’s over. My knees give out and I slump forward to crumple face first onto the bed. I lie there, shivering, vaguely conscious of Ewan moving around the room. I don’t open my eyes. I wait.

Ewan’s hands on my hips ease me forward to lie face down across the bed. He eases my thighs apart, arranging my legs to bend at the knee in order to raise my bottom slightly. When I am positioned to his liking, he slides his cock into me. I’m wet, slick, his entry is easy. I lift my bum, tightening my pussy to grip him. This is what I wanted, what I pleaded for him to provide. I groan, stretching out my hands in front of me to grab the mattress and I just hang on as he sets up a fast, persistent rhythm. Each stroke is smooth, driving deep, the angle perfect to continue the pressure on my G-spot. In contrast to my previous efforts, my next orgasm is swift in the making. It bubbles up from somewhere low down in my core to fizz and to arc, the electric current joining up all my erogenous zones.

“Ewan. Oh, God, Oh, God. That’s fabulous. Wonderful. Can you…?”

“I can. I surely can, baby.” He leans down to press his chest against my back, our bodies joined from neck to hip, slick and hot as we move together in perfect synchronisation. His hand slips underneath me to once more find my clit. As my orgasm subsides, he whips me back into a frenzy, urging me up to the brink and over. Again.

“Shit, sweetheart, I missed you. Missed this. So tight, so fucking hot.”

“Ewan…”

“Squeeze me. Hard. I want you tighter still.”

I do as he instructs, clenching my inner muscles in order to grip him as hard as I’m able. He withdraws his cock, only to drive it balls-deep inside me, holding that position for a few moments before repeating. His breath is coming in short, staccato pants as his climax builds. My own body sated, I am able to concentrate on Ewan’s reactions, his responses. I know the moment his balls draw up and clench to pump the semen up and out in a viscous stream. Ewan lets out a guttural moan as it flows, thick and warm, to fill me with its wet heat.

* * *

“How long are you able to stay this time?”

“A while. Six weeks, maybe eight. I might need to fly out to South Korea at some stage, but that’s not definite. And if I do it won’t be for long. How’s your business coming along?”

We’ve polished off my braised steak and now we’re lingering over the remains of a bottle of pinot noir. The washing up will wait until tomorrow. Or maybe the day after. We’ll go next door to Ewan’s if I run out of plates.

“Good, Very good. I got two new clients.”

He smiles as he leans across the table to top up my wineglass. “Good. I’m loving my new-look website by the way. Would you be interested in doing some designs for the Qatar project?”

“Shit, yes! What do you need?”

“Promotional materials, consciousness-raising. A poster campaign to start with, just to evoke some local interest and awareness at this stage. Sort of, ‘we got the World Cup, yee hah’ stuff. It’d have to be in Arabic, obviously. Would that be a problem?”

I shake my head. As long as the translation is reliable I can reproduce any script using a light box to project the correct characters onto a screen, then I take a photographic image, which I scan in to create the actual design. “Do you want me to produce some costings?”

“If you would. I’ll let you have the details when I grab my briefcase from my car. You were so keen to have your way with me I never even got my luggage inside.”

“I don’t recall you protesting overmuch.”

“Same goes. Although there was one point when you seemed less than ecstatic. Did I come on too strong?”

I pause, thinking back over his domineering approach earlier. It’s true he may have unnerved me a little, but in hindsight it was sort of arousing. I’m submissive, I do realise that now. Just not Ewan’s submissive. Even so, he seems able to tap into my subconscious desires.

“You were a bit stern, but you made up for it.”

“I didn’t upset you?” His expression is one of concern.

“No. I was a bit surprised. It was unexpected. I’d missed you so much and I just wanted to, to…” I hesitate, not sure how blunt I should be.

“You wanted a hard, fast fuck. You made that plain enough.”
Ah, that blunt then. Right.

“And you made me wait. And work for it.”

“If that’s not how you want it to be between us, you need only say so. I’m used to dominating, taking the lead in bed. But I’m adaptable.”

I smile, touched that he’s taking the trouble to consult me. “I love you just as you are. I love the way you fuck me, even if you are bossy with it.”

“And I love it when you talk as dirty as I do.” He tilts his head, his expression serious. “If I get too heavy, I need you to tell me. Remember that.”

“Yes, sir.”

His grin at my final remark is sardonic, and for once it doesn’t provoke the usual display of dimples. “Have you finished your wine? I still need to bring my luggage in from the car. Are you coming next door?”

“Do you have an A-Z of Leeds?”

I hit a natural break on the nursery signage job and decided a cup of tea was in order. It seemed like a reasonable excuse to make one for Ewan too. Carrying two mugs, I wander through his house looking for him. I find him, not surprisingly, in his office. He’s peering at an image from Google maps displayed on his laptop.

“No. That’s what my satnav’s for.” I lean down to kiss his neck, at the same time placing his cup on the desk in front of him. “I made tea?”

“Thanks, love.” He turns to kiss me, this time on the lips before picking up the cup. “I don’t have a satnav. I did, but hardly ever used it so the constant updating was a pain. Fucking civil engineers—always laying new roads. Anyway, I never bothered getting one installed in this car.”

“Where are you trying to find?” I perch on the spare chair next to him and narrow my eyes to study the screen.

“Roundhay Court. It’s one of those new build business parks, somewhere in north Leeds.”

“Do you have the postcode?”

“Yeah, but this map doesn’t seem to recognise it. I guess I’ll just have to do it the old fashioned way—drive to somewhere near and ask someone.” He grimaces as he takes another sip of his tea. “Shit. I hate it when people think I’m lost.”

“Perish the thought. You can borrow mine if you like.”

“Your what?”

“My satnav. And the car, obviously. It’s built in. When are you going?”

“Day after tomorrow. Won’t you need your car?”

“I work from home now, remember? It spends most days just standing in the driveway. You’re welcome to use it.”

“Thanks. I’ll leave my keys with you, in case you do need to go anywhere.”

“I won’t, and in any case, I’m not insured to drive yours.”

“I’ll see to that. So, are you in the middle of something or do you have time to stay a while?”

“Nothing that won’t wait…” I smile. I have a good idea what ‘staying a while’ might involve, and it sounds like a fine plan to me. There’s no point in working from home, and being on good fucking terms with the neighbours, unless a little middle-of-the-day debauchery is on the cards. I move to sit on his lap and loop my arms around his neck.

His fingers abandon the keyboard and he slides them up the front of my vest. He leans back to fix me with a stern glare.

“Faith, I’m shocked. No bra.” He buries his nose between my breasts.

“No. I find I prefer a less formal dress code for working at home. Should I take my vest off too?”

“In a moment. I do think this is an excellent company policy. Does it stretch to knickers?”

“Yes. I mean, no. That is, I’m not wearing any of those either.”

I don’t quite catch all of his next remark, though the phrase ‘…sweet fucking distraction…’ is in there somewhere. He rolls up the front of my chocolate brown vest to latch his lips around my right nipple. He sucks hard, squeezing the hardening bud between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, at the same time taking the left one between his fingers to tug and twist it. His grip is firm, not quite painful, but bordering on that. My pussy starts to convulse and my already swelling clit scrapes against the thick seam in the inside of my jeans.

“I need to take these off. Too scratchy.”

“That’s the downside of your casual approach to working attire, babe. Maybe you should try not to squirm so much.”

Ah, he’s in one of his bossy moods, is he?
Despite the discomfort I love it when he talks to me like this, stern, pretending to disapprove. Even his voice shifts, lowering to that perfectly modulated tone that melts my stomach and leaves me weak at the knees.

My pussy is gushing in a manner best described as decadent as I move to straddle him. His fingers and mouth continue to torment my pebbling nipples as I lean back against his desk. The keyboard of his abandoned laptop digs into my shoulders briefly before he reaches behind me to shove it away, leaving the surface clear for me to lie back.

Ewan releases my nipples long enough to hook his thumbs under the waistband of my vest and tug it up to enfold my head and my arms, now stretched out above me. He leaves the garment there and lowers me back onto the desk. He issues no instructions, but I get the sense I’m expected to stay put, my head covered by my disarranged vest and my arms effectively immobilised.

“Ewan…?” My voice is just a little anxious. I know full well what Ewan is capable of, though never with me. Yet.