Red Skye at Night (19 page)

Harry takes the atlas from me and opens it at the page showing Aviemore.

“Right, here’s where we are, and here’s where we need to get to.” He flicks over a couple of pages and points to Thurso on the northern coast of Scotland. “We can catch a car ferry to Orkney from here, or here.” He shifts his finger to another spot a couple of miles or so along the coast. The dotted line across the sea indicates an alternative ferry crossing. “Any preference?”

I shrug. “No. Although the one at”—I lean over to peer at the map—“Gills Bay looks to be a shorter crossing. Thurso’s a bigger place, though. Might be easier to find somewhere to stay there.”

“That’s what I’m thinking. How far would you say it is? A hundred and forty miles? A hundred and fifty, maybe?”

“Not a hundred and fifty. It’s not a particularly fast road, though. It’ll take us most of tomorrow to get there. I wonder how late the ferries run?”

“I’m thinking we share the driving and spend all of tomorrow getting to Thurso, then we stay overnight there and catch a ferry across early the day after. How does that sound to you?”

“Fine. So not an early start in the morning then?”

“Not especially. I thought we’d head into the town center, look for some breakfast, and I was hoping to find a vet to look over Daisy before we head off.”

“Right. She’s going with us then?” Silly question really.

“I thought so. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No. She’s sweet. And she hasn’t thrown up or made puddles in my car, so I suppose she’s well-mannered.”

Harry kisses my head. “Which is more than you could say for me.”

I smile at him. “Oh, I don’t know. In some ways you’re the perfect gentleman. You usually say please.”

“My mother’s influence again.” He closes the atlas and pulls back the duvet for me to climb in alongside him. “I’ll text Jill and get her to book us somewhere to stay in Thurso. Somewhere they allow dogs.”

“Maybe she could book us a hotel or whatever on Orkney too. Unless you intend to come straight back?”

“No, I thought we could stay there a day or two. My Auntie Janet’s expecting us.”

I sit bolt upright. “Auntie Janet! Who’s Auntie Janet? You never mentioned we were visiting your family.”

Harry’s already tapping out his email to the supremely efficient Jill. He glances at me, smiles, but doesn’t answer immediately.

I’m staring at him, horrified.
Auntie Janet! Auntie Janet, for fuck’s sake!
What will she make of me?

“Right, that’s sorted.” He drops the phone onto the carpet beside the bed and turns to me. “Yes, Auntie Janet. Well, Great-aunt Janet, I think, to be more accurate. My grandma’s cousin. Is that a great aunt?”

Grandma? Cousin? Great-aunt? This is a veritable tribe of McLeods. Or would that be clan? I continue to stare, aghast.

“Problem, Hope?” His tone is disconcertingly quiet. Clearly he’s failed to grasp the magnitude of this.

I seek to acquaint him with the situation. “Your family, Harry. I can’t meet your family. I’m, I’m…”

“You’re what?” Still that calm, measured voice.

“I’m your, your…” I search my head for suitable nouns to describe my current situation. Girlfriend? Hardly. Lover? Probably closer to the mark. Submissive? Yes, definitely, but I don’t think we’ll be mentioning that to Auntie Janet. At least, I hope not. It occurs to me I have no idea at all what Harry intends to do on Orkney.

“You’re my friend. My companion. My driver. I expect Auntie Janet will put two and two together when we share a room, but I don’t suppose she’ll faint with the shock. They’re hardy souls up in Orkney.”

“But she’ll tell your grandma, surely.”

Harry grins. “Probably. Who cares? I already told Jill to book a double room for us so by now my entire family will know I’m not traveling alone. It’s a family firm—Jill works for my uncles too.”

Uncles now. Is there no end to Clan McLeod?

I put my head in my hands and groan. “Oh God, what will they be thinking? We only met a few days ago and now, now…”

“Why would you care what they think? Apart from Auntie Janet, and a few more Orcadian Harrisons, I daresay, they’re all safely in Canada.”

“I know, but…” I sit bolt upright again. “Orcadian Harrisons?”

“Yes. The Orkney branch of the Harrison family. That was my grandma’s name before she married into the McLeods. I’m named after them. There are a few left up there. They’re looking forward to meeting us, I gather. My grandma’s been on the phone.”

“Oh no.” I bury my nose in Harry’s chest, defeat washing over me in waves. He did say he would be exploring his roots in Orkney, but I sort of assumed family history. Long dead relatives and ancestors. Auntie Janet sounds to be very much alive.

“Hope, stop panicking. It’ll be fine, really. We’re here now. Let’s enjoy our time together, and stop fretting about what a bunch of people might be thinking on the other side of the Atlantic.”

“The other side of the Atlantic, my arse. You’re talking about a bunch of people on the other side of the Pentland Firth. That’s a whole lot closer. And we’ll be there the day after tomorrow.”

“Okay, okay. If you don’t like it, we won’t stay. Just long enough to see where my great-grandparents are buried—I promised my grandma I’d do that—and maybe say hello to a few folk who remember her. And can I suggest you don’t draw my attention to your ass, at least not for a while yet?”

I clench my buttocks as Harry strokes my bum, his touch playful rather than erotic on this occasion. What he proposes is reasonable, I suppose, it’s the least we can do. I breathe deeply, try to relax. I attempt to get this into perspective. Even so, and despite Harry’s continued massage of my backside, my stomach is churning as I settle down alongside him. I find my own family enough of a challenge—the prospect of meeting Auntie Janet and an assortment of Orcadian Harrisons is not one I relish.

* * * *

I wake to the sun streaming in through the thin curtains, and to Harry stroking my breast. The duvet is down around my waist and he’s circling my nipple with the tip of his finger. I crack my eyelids open, manage a lazy, smug smile. He makes me feel so bloody good.

“Morning, princess. Can I interest you in a fuck before breakfast?”

I can honestly say that’s the best offer I’ve had in a long time. In fact, I’m struggling to recall a better one. Ever.

“I expect you can.” I stretch, writhe languorously as he firms his caress.

He switches his attention to my other breast. My nipples swell, hardening into firm little bullets. I sigh in contentment as Harry leans over to take one in his mouth. I watch in sensual fascination as he sucks, his cheeks moving rhythmically. I reach down to lay my hand on his head, combing my fingers through his bed-tousled hair. He angles his head to meet my eyes then winks at me.

I lie still, basking in the pleasure he’s giving me. He increases the suction. I gasp, arching my back in a silent plea. My pussy is spasming, damp already, eager to be filled. Harry seems to be in no hurry to move things along, though, preferring to roll onto me, his shoulders across my waist, his face at breast height. He settles in, palming one of my boobs whilst he takes my nipple of the other into his mouth. He alternates—his hands, his tongue, his lips, his teeth working their magic on my sensitized peaks. I’m starting to think I might come just from this alone.

“Harry, please, I need…”

“Shh, love. We have all day.”

My sense of urgency would seem to be more finely honed than his. “I want you inside me. Now. Please.”

“Now? Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m fucking sure.”

“That’s ‘Yes I’m fucking sure, Sir’.”

“Sir, Sir,
Sir!
Please, now!”

He chuckles and wriggles up my body to nestle his hips between mine. I spread my legs as wide as I can, cradling him there, loving the sexy promise of his erection poised at the entrance to my pussy.

“Now?” He nudges my nose with his, his expression teasing as he slips just the very tip of his cock inside me.

“Yes, now. Sir!” I wriggle, trying to buck my hips and take more of him.

Harry backs away, sliding almost completely out of me. “Be patient, little slut. Put your legs around my waist.”

I do as he asked, managing to hook my heels in the small of his back. My new-found agility is rewarded as at last he sinks his cock into me. The full length drives into my channel, caressing my inner walls and filling me totally. He stops, balls deep, his weight suspended on his elbows as he looks down at me.

“Are you happy, Hope?”

I frown at him, squeezing my cunt around his cock. Surely he doesn’t want to chat, not right at this moment. “What, now? Yes.”

“Now, and generally?” He draws back, his movement slow, deliberate. He holds that position for a few moments, his cock once again poised at my entrance before he plunges it deep again.

I sigh, closing my eyes in utter contentment.
At last…

“Hope, I asked you a question.” Again he’s withdrawing, holding his body perfectly still above me. He waits. I wriggle. He pulls back farther. “Hope, answer me.”

The bastard. He knows just which buttons to press.
“Yes, yes I’m happy. Delirious. Just fuck me, please. Stop teasing me.”

“I’m not teasing. It’s just that the only time I can get a straight answer out of you is when you’re desperate for an orgasm. It tends to focus your thinking and engage your interest rather. You are desperate, I take it?”

“Yes I’m bloody desperate.” I grind out the words.

“Who are you talking to, Hope?” His voice is low, but the Dom tone is there, unmistakable.

I groan inwardly, even as I try to repair the damage. “Sir. I’m desperate,
Sir.”

“Mm, I think I’ll need to spank you later, just to instill the proper note of respect. For now, though, I’ll have an answer to my question please.”

“What question? I told you, I am happy.”

“Now, yes. Were you happy last week? Last month? Last year?”

I rotate my hips, attempt to thrust upwards. Ever the optimist, that’s me. “I suppose so. As much as anyone. Please, Harry, can we talk about this later?”

“Will you be happy next week? Next month? After you return to taxi driving in Leeds and I’m back in Winnipeg?”

“I don’t know, I expect so. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Open your eyes, Hope. Look at me.”

I didn’t realize my eyes were closed, but I open them obediently. Harry’s gaze is warm, his deep brown eyes just inches from my own.

He smiles at me, his expression slightly sad. “Why indeed? You know I’ll miss you, my little morning fuck-slut, when we go our separate ways.”

I can’t tear my eyes away now. I’m held, lost in his hypnotic stare. He seems to look right into me, searching for something. His eyes darken—perhaps he’s found what he was seeking. I blink back tears as I admit to myself that I’ll miss him too. I’ll miss him more than I can say. More than I like to think about.

“Sir, I, I wish…”

“Mmm, what is it you wish, my slut?”

“I wish we had more time together. And I wish you’d fuck me. Please.”

“That’s two wishes?”

“Yes. Two wishes. Sir.”

“I only hired you for a few days. A week or so.”

“I know.”

“Maybe we will have more time. It’s been four days and we haven’t arrived in Orkney yet. I’m going to need you and your car more than just the week. Are you available?”

“I see. And yes, that’s fine. There won’t be any extra charge, Sir.” It had occurred to me that our timing was slower than perhaps originally anticipated, but I wasn’t sure what Harry’s plans might have been. I wondered if perhaps he’d just fly back to Canada from one of the Scottish airports. He may not have required my services back to Leeds.

“No? I’d have gladly paid up.”

“I’m having a good time, Sir. I like being with you. I’d like it better if you’d get on with my morning fuck, though. Please.”

“Christ, you’re turning into a demanding little sub. You can have your fuck, then you take the spanking you’ve earned. Yes?”

“Yes, Sir. Of course. Anything you say.” My bum tingles as I anticipate delights yet to come. I let out a long, low moan of bone-deep appreciation as he at last sinks the length of his cock into me.

He’s huge, stretching me fully, the pressure caressing my inner walls.

“Jesus, girl, you’re so tight. So fucking tight.”

“Sir, oh, Sir…”

“Don’t talk. Scream if you must, but no more words.” He drops his head to rest his forehead on mine as he draws his hips back ready to piston into me again.

He drives his cock forward, and I whimper. He repeats, and I scream. As ever he manages to find that perfect angle to hit my G-spot dead on, and never misses a stroke. I dig my heels into the tight globes of his buttocks, loving the flexing of his muscles under my feet as he plunges in and out. He picks up a steady rhythm, increasing the force of his thrusts as my body reshapes to cocoon him. I squeeze, increasing the friction, and let out a frenzied moan as my climax starts to build. Harry changes the tempo, now going for shorter, faster strokes, the head of his cock just penetrating me. He gyrates his pelvis as I cling to him, my legs and my arms clamped tight around him. I’m gasping, my need to come near to overwhelming. A few more moments, one more thrust, another, another.

I’m there. My climax hits me, a wave of pleasure starting deep in my pussy and radiating outward. I feel it right out to my fingers and toes, to the ends of my hair, pulsing through every part of me. I cling on—Harry is my lifeline now, my connection as my senses scatter. He deepens his strokes, filling me totally, his shaft seeming to swell inside me to impossible proportions. The head of his cock hits my cervix and he drives it home one last shuddering time and holds still for a few seconds. His erection twitches violently then my cunt is flooded with the warm wetness of his semen. He continues to pump into me, emptying his cum into my pussy, bathing me with his warmth.

Long minutes later he pulls out of me and flops over onto his back. I lie still, allow my breathing to return to normal. Harry pulls himself into a sitting position and grabs a pillow, which he lays across his lap.