The Eunuch's Ward (The String Quartet) (17 page)

BOOK: The Eunuch's Ward (The String Quartet)
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My lower body jerked upwards in response. ‘Have mercy,’ I managed a nervous giggle.

He chuckled back, fitted himself in between my legs, and wrapped his arms around me. Holding me close, he kissed me. For the first time since we’d met, he buried his large, strong mouth into mine. My lips opened in an urgent greeting, my tongue sought his, trying to fill him, imploring to be filled in return. The thick, hard stem of his cock was moving up and down the outside of my vagina, sliding smoothly along its wet welcome.

Then he changed his position slightly and I could feel it make its way in.

The pain was sudden and sharp, shooting out throughout me like lighting. I screamed at full volume, but it disappeared immediately and without a trace. His cock continued to move slickly in, taking up all the room there was and more. My inside muscles tightened around it, owning it, my clitoris luxuriating in the electrifying friction against the stem.

‘Awww!’

I tried to fight it but the orgasm was unstoppable. It tore through my entire body. Working with my need, his thrusts became even more forceful and faster, he grew even bigger inside me until his cock remained the only source of life, the only route to completion. After an eternity of drawing sustenance from that well, I screamed again, this time in the wonderful anguish of fulfilment and collapsed into sobbing, grateful for the cradle of his arms to hold me together.

Hugh’s face was buried into the base of my neck, his breathing fast, his body gratified. He lifted his head and wiped his forehead with a corner of the bed sheet. Then he kissed me again. With the reassuring weight of his relaxed cock still inside me, and his lips bonded to mine, I felt that I’d arrived.

I was where I’d always wanted to be, where I wanted to stay forever.

 

* * *

 

I woke up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of running water in the kitchen. The clock on the bedside table showed 9.14, the sunshine peering between the curtains signalled daytime. I dashed off for a shower, quickly changed the bedding and, along with all the discarded clothing, stuffed the used set into a linen bag, ready to take it to the laundry room downstairs. I then pulled on a strapless top and the washed but not ironed dungaree shorts that I’d worn when I first arrived to the Sanctuary.

‘You look like Christopher Robin dragging Winnie the Pooh behind him,’ Hugh laughed at the laundry bag and emptied a glass of orange juice. ‘Want one?’

I lifted my face up to him, closing my eyes. ‘I could use something else first. I’ve brushed my teeth, by the way.’

He was still laughing when he kissed me. I loved his morning, laughing kisses. They didn’t taste of lust and fire like last night. Instead, there was a joyful tenderness about them, a sense of togetherness.

‘I don’t suppose it matters now, I hope it doesn’t,’ Hugh lifted my face up to his, ‘but I was terribly nervous last night...’

‘Why on earth would you have been nervous? That was meant to be my territory.’

‘But, you were not really nervous, were you?’

I shrugged. ‘I probably was. I must have been on some level. But, I was much too excited, fired up, to give in to first night nerves. Why were you nervous?’

‘I’ve never been anyone’s first before. I was afraid of letting you down. Putting you off kind of thing.’

‘Putting me off sex for life, kind of thing?’

He nodded.

‘You haven’t, I assure you,’ I smiled up at him and stepped closer. ‘If anything...’

Hugh embraced me and kissed the top of my head. ‘Let’s keep it special. What are we doing today? Got anything planned?’ He moved us both to the breakfast table.

He must have explored the conservatory in some detail because there was a dish full of Alpine strawberries on the table, as well as a couple of boxes of cereals, a coffee pot, butter, honey and toast.

I shook my head. ‘I haven’t thought that far. There’s always the Sanctuary, I suppose.’ Truthfully, I felt than anything else but making love was waste of good bedroom time, but thought it wiser to keep that to myself.

‘It’s a lovely day. How would you like a day on a Cornwall beach?’

‘You’d fly us there?’

‘Yup.’ He’d spread butter and honey on two slices of toast and was eating them together, like a sandwich.

‘I don’t have a swimsuit with me.’

‘We’ll find a very remote beach,’ he winked.

I didn’t need any more persuasion. A rummage through my grandmother’s drawers unearthed one of my mother’s discarded one-piece swimming costumes. My grandmother had probably never used it but it fitted me well enough. I hoped to be as slim as my mother when I reached her age. Besides, with luck I wasn’t going spend too long inside it.

We ended up at Land’s End. The airfield had a small car hire operation. The only two available vehicles were a nondescript red convertible and a Skoda Yeti.

‘Never driven a Skoda,’ Hugh eyed it with suspicion.

‘There’s the first time for everything,’ I muttered and we both burst out laughing.

After trundling along a dirt road for about half an hour, the beach we found was as deserted as I could have wished. Hugh busied himself pumping up a brand new inflatable mattress that we’d found at the back of the car. I was showing off my swimming prowess jumping off a cliff and diving for long enough to get him a little worried. The sea was bitingly cold at first, but an energetic crawl out and back again quickened the adjustment.

Hugh met me on my third leg back. ‘The water’s lovely,’ he grinned.

‘Wash your mouth out with salt,’ with a flap of my feet I sent a powerful splash to his face. ‘You must never refer to sea as water. Sea is Sea. Its Majesty the Sea.’

We chased each other around, screeching and shouting, until he wrapped me in his arms and kissed me. ‘That’s the difference,’ I thought as my ravenous mouth got hold of his tongue and sucked on it ferociously, ‘they never kissed. Not once. He and that woman in his swimming pool, they never kissed.’ The pure joy of the realisation wound my legs around his waist. As a reward, his ribs rubbed me firmly through the thin fabric of the gusset. He chuckled through the kiss, and rolled my swimsuit down, all the way to my navel, and disentangling himself quickly from the clinch of my legs, pulled it off altogether. In a powerful hurl, it went flying towards the shore.

‘Bullseye,’ he grinned and bent down to my breasts, sucking and biting them alternatively, before he brought me up flat on my back. ‘You do the butterfly, I’ll push on with my legs.’ He parted my legs and slid in between them. ‘I can’t get enough of your delicious little cunt.’

As we slowly moved off, his head bent down and his mouth latched to me, furiously sucking my clit. I was in agony. There was no way that I could respond to the provocation, nothing I could do to reduce the intense rush of blood to that entire area of me that was ruling my every move.

‘Fuck me,’ I cried. ‘I need you to fuck me hard right now.’

I thought I could hear him chuckle again. His tongue slid further down, down to the mouth of my cunt and pushed in.

OMG! OMG! OMG!

He was fucking me with at least an inch of his tongue inside me, as his nose rubbed my clit.

There was no way that I could do any butterfly moves. My hands slipped down to my breasts and squeezed them tightly, as he pushed us on using just his legs. With each push his tongue rammed harder and harder into me.

‘You bastard!’ Aroused out of my mind, I was beating the top of his head. ‘You fucking bloody sadistic beast. I need your cock. I need you to fill me up with your cock. Now!’

We must have reached the shallower ground, for he stopped swimming and stood up. Still in between my legs, he lifted me upright and up in the air a little, before lowering me down again until I felt something rigid and thick entering me from below. It took me a long second to realise that it was his cock that was taking possession of me. All that time he’d been stark naked. I was madly furious with myself for failing to notice that before, and madly needy at the same time. The need won.

‘You crafty bastard,’ I repeated and pushed myself further down on him, as far down as I could go. ‘You selfish, deceiving pig. Are you planning on starting to fuck me properly any time soon?’

‘Your wish is my command, my lady,’ he said with his cheeky grin again. ‘Fix your ankles around me.’

I did.

Of course I did. I couldn’t wait to fasten him to me again.

As was his habit, he lifted my buttocks up a little and leant forward. Each step he made turned into a crushing thrust of his cock inside me and a hard brush against my clitoris. I could hear myself moaning, straining to offer more of myself to that excruciating torture, until it became too much to bear. We may have been moving through raging fire instead of the cool sea. My pelvis started gyrating furiously around him until my clit and the G spot exploded in glorious unison. As we collapsed on the sand at the very edge of the shore, and shuddered in violent jerks against each other, I felt myself drowning in the hot flood of his ejaculation.

 

Chapter 16

 

We wanted to start work at the Sanctuary as early as possible. At 7 in the morning, the sun was already quite high up on the horizon, and the house martins were creating one heck of a racket under the eaves. Life was beautiful, and I was becoming more and more scared. It was Wednesday. My father had ordered me to turn up, compliant and dressed up to the nines, on Saturday. My entire being revolted against the possibility of shattering this passionate, yet peaceful paradise to shards of reality. I’d promised myself not to think about anything painful and bewildering before at least Thursday. Or better still, until Friday. I’d been doing very well so far. There was no reason to think that anything terrible would happen if I continued the way I’d started. If he was really as broke as he claimed, my father couldn’t even disinherit me. As for the rest, in time he was going to forgive and forget. What else could he do? He was a parent. Forgiving and forgetting was in his job description.

I still had two more days to make up my mind. The important point was not to let Hugh have anything to do with my decision. It was important to me to take full responsibility for whatever happens next.

‘‘What was your childhood like?’ Best keep the limelight away from me.

‘If I told you that my father was a vicar and my mother a teacher, would you believe me that I had a perfect childhood?’

‘I think so,’ surprised, I laughed. ‘What was perfect about it?’

‘Everything,’ he shrugged. ‘My mother is still very much alive and lively. I’ve also got an older sister. When the three of us meet up we just laugh all the time. Even when my father was around no one was taking life too seriously. Dad’s parishioners loved him because he never threatened anyone with brimstone and fire. We were not rich, not even particularly well off. If it were down to the family income my sister and I would have never got the indecently expensive private education that we had. But, several generations ago, there was a great uncle, my mother’s great uncle, who believed in education. Now, there’s the funny thing. In his will he said that he wanted future generations to have as much good schooling as their minds can take. At family gatherings and graduations he was always mentioned as an amazingly enlightened and broadminded person for his generation. And then, a few years ago Eva, that’s my sister, Eva said to the tableful of grateful and appreciative relatives, that the old man probably wasn’t broadminded at all and that we should probably be grateful to the forward-thinking trustees instead. ‘It probably never even occurred to him that girls may have wanted to go to school or that there would be a school that’d take them. That’s why he never mentioned boys specifically. He took it for granted that only boys would be in need of scholarship.’

Hugh laughed and I laughed with him.

‘That was the last time that I ever heard the old boy mentioned at all. I’m just hoping that he won’t come back to haunt her for ruining his reputation.’

‘Why flying? How did you decide to become a pilot?’

‘A long story.’

‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry. Just tell me to shut up when I overstep the line.’ I felt rebuked.

‘No, Nat, no...’ Hugh brought my palm to his lips and kissed it. ‘It’s nothing like that. I’ll be happy to tell you whatever you want to know. The question itself is innocuous enough. However, the answer has been burdened with a lot of luggage since I took to the skies. Secrets that are not mine to tell.’

‘Don’t answer it, then. It really doesn’t matter. I’m too happy to spoil what we’ve got for the sake of curiosity.’

Hugh buried his face into my palm. ‘Ignore me. As you’re bound to find out, I tend to become overemotional over certain subjects. There’s nothing emotional about my choice of career. Only what happened later, and that doesn’t involve me. I’ll tell you, but isn’t it time to go and be kind to animals?’

‘High time. By the way, don’t look surprised if a fluffy middle-aged lady in floral crimplene who answers to the name of Mrs Brackett tells you that she holds RAF in high regard.’

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t Mrs Brackett’s day in the Sanctuary. She was replaced by an elderly man that reminded me of a gherkin. He put us on the swan duty. Someone else, a young man of about twenty or so, explained what that entailed. It wasn’t much more to it than to portion off their daily food rations and make sure that the stronger ones didn’t steal from the weaker among them.

‘No extras, please,’ he warned sternly. ‘The food is a perfect mix of freeze dried aquatic plants, crustaceans, small fish and the like. Excess food would be certain to put their convalescence in jeopardy.’

‘It doesn’t seem that anyone’s told the swans that they’re convalescing. Nor has anyone explained the link between their diet and rate of recovery.’ Hugh was fighting off three feathered and beaked alpha males prepared to feed on human flesh in the absence of krill. ‘RAF? Why RAF?’

‘Never mind why. On these premises you’re a squadron leader in the RAF.’

‘More socially acceptable than a high altitude chauffeur?’

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