A Sanctuary for Elle

by Anna Jane

  One kiss and Mark was throbbing for her. His penis ached with the need to bury it inside her. He moved his hands down to her butt and lifted her up and onto his waist. He walked them into the shower and turned it on. When it ran warm he walked them to the wall and pressed her back up against the tiles. Water fell on them and droplets hung from their faces as they gazed at each other.

  Mark lifted Elle up until his erection lay poised at her entrance. He looked down as their most intimate areas prepared to meet and watched as he pushed himself inside. Glancing up he saw Elle's eyes cloudy with desire, water dripping over her face and breasts seductively, asking to be kissed and licked. With hands under her bottom, Mark raised and lowered Elle onto his shaft over and over again until she arched into his arms. Her breasts smothered his face and he captured a nipple in his mouth,licking and sucking on it with a need so strong it burned within him.

  Elle was close to release when Mark took her nipple in his mouth. As he sucked she felt a deep tug of desire and together with his pounding inside her brought her quickly to an explosive and heady climax.

  Mark felt Elle's muscles contracting around his shaft and held his own release. She was so responsive under his ministrations and the way she cried out his name when she came made him feel incredibly masculine and turned him on beyond belief.

  He lifted her off his erection and turned her confused face around. 'I'm not finished with you yet,' he whispered into her ear as she nestled back against him. Mark let the water fall upon them and reached for the soap on the shelf. He lathered it into his hands and then with her back to his chest reached around to soap her breasts. The soap made them pliable and supple under his rough hands. He rolled her nipple with his fingers while Elle 'oohed' and 'aahhed' under his touch. He turned his attention to her stomach next rubbing the soap soothingly over her flat stomach. His soapy hands travelled around to her buttock and soaped the curved mounds, squeezing and cupping seductively.

  Next he pushed at her lower back, urging her to lean over and place her hands on the tiles in front. He nudged at her knees to saying, 'open for me Elle.'

  Elle opened her stance so that her feet were shoulder width apart and felt her sex open to the air and water around them. She felt brazen and wanton and a little unsure before his touch quickly returned and shunned all doubt from her mind.

  Mark bent to his knees at Elle's behind and began to soap her buttocks. His hands slipped to her delicate cleft and massaged and rubbed. He then moved lower, soaping her folds and rubbing her in the areas she loved. He leant back for the water to sluice the soap away. He then returned, this time with his tongue. He bent to her intimate parts, pulled her open with his hands and licked, sucked and lavished attention on her until she cried out with the pleasure. He rose to his feet as she was still mid climax and pushed himself deep within her. His shaft reached to her core, filling her up so much it was intensely pleasurable. He withdrew and then pushed again and again pumping himself to climax as she writhed and squealed with the overwhelming sensation gripping her. Mark came forcefully on a guttural cry of his own, loud and deep, the sound of a man spent, his wet hot seed filling her cavern. They remained joined for several moments. Mark then pulled himself out and she turned around to be encircled in his arms. They stayed together in the shower for a little longer, enjoying each others closeness. They quickly rinsed clean and then Mark turned the shower off. They stepped out and wrapped up in large white towels. They dressed together in the bathroom, exchanging furtive glances at each other, both wondering the very same thing. What was this magic between them?

  Mark and Elle walked out of the hospital holding hands. 'I never asked you where you were headed yesterday.' Elle passed her bags to the taxi driver.

  'I'm headed to the coast. I'm going to my Grandmother's properties.'

  An uneasy feeling coursed through Mark. 'Properties?'

  'Yes, my grandmother lived in Morfa Nevyn in North Wales and had her home and business there. I'm going there to take over the business and hopefully build myself a home.'

  Mark's face registered discomfort. He had a bad feeling that maybe they should have shared surnames earlier.

  'Elle, was your Grandmother Joy-Leah May?'

  'Oh my God, yes! How on earth did you..?' A sudden dawning of realisation dawned on her. His name was Mark. Surely not. Not the Mark who had caused her Grandmother such an ordeal in her final weeks of life. 'Mark, what is your full name?'

  'Mark-Anthony Hunter.'

  She stared at him, disbelief flooding through her. Revulsion spilled through her. She couldn't believe the man she thought she liked so much was Mark-Anthony Hunter, the man who had harassed and bothered her Grandmother in disgusting ways. Mark-Anthony Hunter was a shark. A property shark. He owned half the world. He was famous. Rich and famous, buying and selling property and receiving huge returns. Mark-Anthony had been interested in Elle's Grandmother's hotel, The Sanctuary. He had seen it as a huge investment to add to his portfolio of riches. What he hadn't realised was the effect it had had on her Grandmother. How she had agonised over it, felt pressured by them.

  She was disgusted with herself, with him. Anger and spite in her eyes she said in no uncertain terms,' Mark-Anthony Hunter, I never wish to see you ever again.'

  And with that she climbed in the taxi and was gone. Mark stood watching the car drive away. He couldn't stop her, was stunned into silence. She was right. She had every right to be angry with him. The look in her eyes stayed with him that evening till he slept. And there he relived their time together and agonised about how to make her see that he only had good intentions, that he was a changed man. He wondered if she would speak to him. Wondered whether she was willing to hear him out. He tossed and turned until giving up entirely on sleep. He sat on his balcony and looked at the moon and the stars. What a difference a day could make. Last night he had been making sweet, beautiful love to a stunning and passionate woman. Tonight he was once again alone, lonely, a little sad. Some changes needed to happen in his life, he realised that now. Elle had started a restlessness in him which he had not experienced before.

  She couldn't be gone from his life. No. He decided that now. He would fight for a place in her life again. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

  Chapter 5

  Elle climbed into the taxi that would take her to Sanctuary. She informed the driver of their destination and sat back with an angry sigh. She couldn't believe it. Had she only known... Why did it have to be him?! How dare he? How dare he treat her Grandmother like that. If only one of them had known, they could have hated each other from the outset. Now things were ridiculously confusing. The man was wicked and manipulative and after her inherited property. He was also gorgeous and kind and excited her beyond reason. What a mess. What a stupid, horrible mess. Elle was furious with herself, furious with him, furious with the situation she now found herself in. The things she had done with him too, the wonderful, pleasure she had found, now to be changed into guilt that she had done them with him, the one person she should never have touched.

  When the landslide had hit, Elle had momentarily forgotten the mess her life was in. She was adamant that was going to change. She would get her life in order and start living the life she had been dreaming of for so long.

  When Elle had been a teenager she had had wild dreams of an adventurous lifestyle, jet setting around the world with the rich and famous. She had developed into a beautiful, young woman and people would comment to her often of her rare and stunning visage. Elle had been flattered and with her grandmother's encouragement she had pursued the world of modelling. Elle had started small and entered local contests in Wales. When she came first in every single contest she entered she had soon gained the attention of some modelling reps. She was soon signed up by an elite modelling agency and her career took off. Elle began to travel for the modelling she did. For many years she loved her job, it was exciting and new, she would meet so many people, felt like she was doing something fulfilling and she was tr
avelling the world. She saw all the countries she had dreamed of visiting and became very successful in what she did.

  Elle began to lose passion for her job after about ten years. She began to hate constantly travelling, living out of a suitcase. She began to wish she could have a house of her own, a home to return to at night. Friends she did know began to settle, met and married their husbands, began to start having babies, children. Elle had realised she was jealous. Jealous of their families, their homes. She began to tire of the modelling world too. The demands had become too great. When she had started it had been exciting, fun often. Now pressure was placed on her, she needed to be thinner, younger and it was no longer the fun job it had once been.

  Elle had pretty much come to the conclusion about what she needed and wanted to do when her grandmother had called. The phone call had spurred her on to retire early from her agency. She had packed up her things in the apartment she was temporarily staying in and got herself on a plane. She would go home. She could go and live with Nen for a bit. Little did she know that her grandmother didn't have that much time left. In the time it taken to organise her affairs and fly back to Wales, Elle had lost her grandmother. She knew then that she should have come home sooner, wished beyond words that she had made the decision sooner.

  The journey began and the driver headed out to the winding roads of North Wales. Breathtaking scenery was all around her. To her left the rise and fall of mountains, their tips touching the clouds. Beautifully craggy rocks gathered in formation. Winding footpaths, created by years of exploration by climbers and walkers. The base of the mountains were thick with forest, deep olive green trees which spoke of the mystery within them.

  Through the other window fields and fields of green, sheep in their hundreds grazed. Open country gave way to a small coastal villages, traditionally welsh in appearance with small white houses and stone dwellings with slate roofs.

  Through and out to open country, the roads wound through the mountainous coast roads. Eventually they came to a small town with the sign Pistyll depicting it. They past a beautiful old chapel to the left and as soon as they past it the view of the sea became clear and down on the hills she saw it. 'The Sanctuary,' Morfa Nefyn. Her Grandmother's home, her home once.

  Memories came flooding back. The house stood proudly halfway down the hill facing the sea. It lay derelict and broken now but Elle remembered it in the glory days of her childhood when she used to play on the hills surrounding the house and spend hours exploring the huge old house, looking for nooks and crannies to hide in and make stories about. The driver took the next road left, little more than a gravel path in fact. The path headed down to the sea, halfway down two small houses now stood and beyond there a medieval church and graveyard. Tiny in its appearance and nestled into the ground like it had stood for hundred of years. Elle made a mental note to find out more about the church.

  The path wound around and there it was before her. Two castle turrets created a gate like opening for its drive. It gave the place a majestic feeling. The car climbed the gravel pathway up to the entrance of the house. He stopped the car. Elle climbed out, paid and thanked the driver as he lifted her suitcase out of the boot. He drove away and Elle allowed herself to take in the wonderful surroundings.

  The house lay before looking like a shadow of its previous grandeur. She could see crumbling brick and broken windows. The white columns that had so proudly stood either side of the grand front door were blackened and broken. The door itself was old. The handle lay half off, swinging back and forth in the gathering wind. The gardens were strewn with weeds and had clearly been left untended for years. And there, to the side of the door. There was the plaque. 'The Sanctuary' it said. The once beautiful sign was on the floor, dirty, brown with age. Elle picked it up and wiped across with her fingers. The words lay there, looking up at her. They challenged her to follow through with her plans, to make 'The Sanctuary' a sanctuary again. Elle spoke to herself, 'You will be beautiful again. I will bring you back to life.' She tucked the wooden plaque under her arm and started down the gravel path to the little cottage her Grandmother lived in till the end. It still looked the same, a quaint white bungalow, tended garden and white picket fence.

  This was a quiet, serene place. Only two other houses, side by side and The Sanctuary. That was all the housing that overlooked the bay. Originally only the hotel had stood on this plot on the cliff. As time had passed, her grandmother had grown more affluent and had ploughed her money into building two houses which stood neighbouring Sanctuary. She and Elle had moved into one and lived their for many years together in the house. It gave them more space to live in and an escape from the busy world of the hotel as and when they needed it.

  The house next door to her Grandmother's was home to Margaret and Keith, a wonderful elderly couple who had lived there for years. Their own children were grown and gone, they had retired and stayed in the bungalow, looking out for Joy in her later years. As she approached the bungalow, Margaret came out. Elle had been expecting this. Margaret was a kind, wonderful woman and would surely be concerned about how Elle was doing. Margaret had also been like an auntie to Elle, had babysat her as a child and had always been present as someone she could turn to.

  'Elle, my dear child. Come here sweetheart. Keith and I are so sad about Joy. Your Grandmother was a wonderful woman.'

  'It's good to be home.'

  'Home? You set upon staying then? What about all your jet setting? I thought you were some kind of super model these days.'

  Elle chuckled, 'Not exactly Margaret. To be honest, I'm homesick. I've travelled all over the world modelling and now all I want to do is settle down. I don't need to work thankfully and Nen left me a small fortune so I plan to settle here. Begin rebuilding The Sanctuary. I hope you won't mind having me for your neighbour.'

  'Mind? It will be wonderful! It's been a bit too quiet around here lately. Having you nearby will be a treat and to have 'The Sanctuary' up and running again, well, it'll be like the good old days.'

  'I'm glad you agree.' Elle smiled, glad that her neighbours would be supportive. It would have been hard to go ahead with her plans if they had an issue with them.

  'You may have some competition though. There has been a lot of interest in developing 'The Sanctuary.' Joy had several people sniffing about looking to 'help' buy it and take it off her hands. Treating her like an old woman, someone they could diddle a fortune from.'

  'I know. She told me all about it. The thing is, I own it now. Nen left it to me. That means they can try as hard as they like. I'm not budging. No sale. Not now, not ever.'

  'Good girl. You tell 'em. I'm happy you're back Elle.'

  Margaret gave her a quick hug and headed back down the garden path. Elle watched her leave then headed down her garden path. It really was so picturesque here, the soothing sea air lifting her hair with its gentle breeze. She looked at the little white gate and beyond to the well maintained garden. She felt a sense of peace gather within her. She had missed the feeling of having a home. Travel had its perks and benefits but it was now time for building a home, a nest. Somewhere she could feel safe and secure. No demands and pressure, a life where Elle was the boss, creating the life she had dreamt of.

  Modelling had secured her the financial independence to be able to retire early from the career. She had enjoyed it at times but recently had tired of the constant demands it entailed. The travel, the monotony. She yearned for something more fulfilling.

  As she gazed at the quaint little house she felt that special something in the pit of her stomach. She knew this was the start of something amazing, something life changing. The times she would have in this house would change the course of her life for the better. She just knew it.

  Elle dragged her wheelie suitcase up the little stone path and fumbled around in her purse for the keys. They were still with the paperwork the solicitor had given her with the deeds of the house. Everything was transferred to Elle upon her Grandmother's death. Her
grandmother's generosity meant that not only was she financially secure, but that she had a home now too. No huge deposit to find, no mortgage to pay off. No, she had a beautiful, picturesque home in an idyllic setting and a magnificent hotel which despite being in need of renovation had the most amazing potential imaginable.

  Elle finally located the key and turned it into the lock. She dragged her suitcase inside, closed the door and turned to look at her grandmother's home. It was not so much the way everything looked the same that got to Elle first. No, it was the smell. Her grandmother's smell, a fragrant smell of roses which was all around her and reminded her heartbreakingly of her loss.

  Elle made her way to the sofa. She sat and then lay down. She brought her knees up to her chest as the sobs of grief bubbled their way to the surface. She let the heartbreak out, crying until she was weak. As her heaving chest relaxed from sheer exhaustion she let herself go and fell asleep. She didn't notice the sun going down or the darkness arrive. Elle slept and slept, the previous days adventures having caught up with her. She dreamt of rocks falling, of her grandmother holding her, of hospitals and of a handsome face smiling at her.

  When Elle awoke it was morning. She felt much better having slept for almost ten hours. Looking around her gaze fell on her suitcase in the hall. Resolved she took it upstairs and unpacked it. She wanted to feel at home even when it didn't quite feel like hers yet, not with all her grandmother's things around her.

  What an awful thing to contend with. When someone dies all their possessions are suddenly something to consider. Elle wondered what she should do with all the clothes, ornaments, knick knacks that her grandma had around the house. How much to keep? How much to give away? The photos she found would be incredibly important to keep. The stories they told were memories that triggered Elle back to moments in her life when she had been so happy.

  It was overwhelming to look at all the items that had congregated to form her grandmother's worldly possessions so Elle took a shower, cleaned up a little and threw on jeans and a t-shirt. It felt wonderful to dress down, no make up, no hair styling. It was liberating. She let her hair fall wet and long down her back and wandered slowly out to the front garden.