by Sadie King
We pass Mrs Hughes on the way out and I slam the door behind me with my foot. I can smell Chloe's sweat and the sex from today and it's making my body hot and my dick twitch, impatient to claim what's mine.
I start to carry her up the staircase but she's wriggling against me. It's too much for me to bare.
“We're doing this now,” I tell her setting her down on the marble staircase.
Her eyes widen and she opens her legs and leans back.
“I want you, master.”
It's like the words turn me into a wild animal. I growl as I reach between her legs and rip her panties off with one tug. I'm two steps below her and the pink flesh of her dripping pussy makes my dick throb. I pull it out and her eyes widen.
“I'm going in unprotected,” I tell her. “I'm going to make you mine and plant my seed.”
She nods at me, my obedient baby girl.
“You will be mine, forever. Understand?”
“Yes,” she says looking me straight in the eye. “I want that, too.”
I reach forward and rip her blouse off, the buttons pinging down the staircase. Her tits spill over her bra and I pull it down, so they bob free.
“Turn around for me.”
She turns so she's kneeling on the stairs her hands pressed into the stairs a few steps above. I throw up the hem of her skirt so I can see her ass and the pink folds of her pussy. I lose my trousers and straddle her, my bare thighs brushing against hers.
My hand reaches round to stoke her wet pussy. She's ready for me and I slap my dick against her ass. I run the tip along her glistening lips my pre-cum adding to her wetness.
I push the tip in, and she cries out.
She’s so tight and hot and wet and it feels like home.
“This is going to hurt a little,” I tell her. “Just the first time, when I break your cherry. After that, it will feel good.'
“It already feels good.”
I ease in a little more and fuck, it's so fucking tight It's like my dick is in a hot wet vice. It feels fucking fantastic and I can't hold back any longer. I need to be inside her.
“Brace yourself, baby girl.”
I thrust hard and feel her barrier burst. The warmth gushes around me and she cries out. I almost cum there and then. I slide back giving her a few gentle thrusts.
This is an exercise in fucking self-control and as soon as I hear her cries turn to moans, I let myself go.
I pump her hard. One hand squeezing her fleshy ass, pulling her to me. My dick slides in and out of her tight pussy. She lifts herself to meet me, moaning every time I push into her.
My knees are rubbing against the velvet carpet and I pull her down a step pushing her into its soft folds. My dick sinks in even deeper and I fuck her hard, like a man possessed. She brings a hand around to rub her clit and I feel her pussy tighten as her climax builds.
I'm riding a wave or pure ecstasy and one more thrust and I peak inside her, shooting hot cum into her. Claiming her, finally, as mine.
As she orgasms her pussy clenches my dick and they pulse together. Her cries echo up and down the staircase, like she's letting the house know she's the new mistress.
Once the throbbing subsides, I ease out of her. She turns to face me, her elbows propped up against the staircase. Sweat glistens on her body and her eyes are glazed over. Despite the load I just shot into her, my dick starts to harden again.
“Come on.” I help her up of the stairs. “Let me show you your new home.”
She smiles up at me. And a wave of protectiveness runs through me. She's mine now, forever. I'll always watch over her and keep her safe.
“Can we start with the bedroom?” she asks.
“We can start with any room you like, baby girl. Because I'm going to have you in all 78 of them.”
“I'd like that, Master,” she says.
My dick hardens immediately, and I scoop her up into my arms.
She laughs as I carry her up the stairs and through the first door I see into a study.
I'm going to spend the rest of my life fucking this girl in every room of this Goddamn house. But very soon, I'm going to take her to the chapel on the ground floor and I'm going to confirm legally that she's mine.
I'm going to claim her as my wife like I claimed her as my woman today.
I carry her across the threshold of the study and push the back of the door with my foot. As I sit her bare ass on the polished oak desk the door slams shut behind us.
Epilogue
Chloe
5 years later...
My feet sink into the grass as I pause in the chase. My two sons are playing hide and seek and I'm pretending I can't see them hiding behind the bulk of their father who's propped up on an elbow on a picnic blanket.
“Boo!” The youngest jumps out and sets of laughing on his unsteady toddler feet.
I pretend to chase him as he runs giggling in a circle and back to the presumed safety of his father. Just when he thinks he's safe, Jonathan, I finally did learn his name, shoots out an arm and swings him up into the air. My other son jumps on him and they all three tumble together onto the lawn.
I watch them as I rub my round belly. The girl inside me kicks in protest like she can't wait to come out and join the fun.
We're picnicking in the orchard at the end of the estate. Swollen apples hang from the trees, ripe and ready to be picked. I make a mental note to tell cook to collect them for an apple pie for supper.
Most days this is as far as we venture out. We have everything we need in the house and the grounds. The estate is the perfect playground for the boys.
We were married two weeks after we first met in the little stone chapel on the ground floor.
My mom was well enough to walk me down the aisle although she had to go back to the private hospital afterwards.
She's been in remission for four years now and lives by the coast in a small mansion of her own.
My husband doesn't hide away anymore. We don't leave the estate much but when we do, I walk proudly on his arm. He's more concerned about who's looking at me than who might be looking at him.
He takes me to the cinema in town when they're playing the old movies I love.
I put the photos upright in all the rooms. It's funny looking at him without the scar.
By conventional standards he was a good-looking man. Strong jawline, smooth skin, offset with those dark eyes. But to me, he's missing something without the scars. It's the flaws that make us truly beautiful and my man's scared face is beauty to me.
It's the two different sides to him. The loving father and the beast in the bedroom.
As if reading my thoughts, he turns to me and I know what the look in his eyes means. He's insatiable my husband, and so am I.
I beckon to Mrs Hughes. She helps with the children now as well as keeping the house running.
“Who wants strawberries?” she asks the children, bringing over the picnic hamper. I leave them scrambling for berries as I head back to the house. My husband will follow in a few minutes.
Just enough time for me to slip into the maid’s uniform, retrieve the duster and choose a room. I smile to myself in anticipation.
The blouse is pulled tight over my swollen breasts and I can't get the bottom buttons done up. The skirt rides up well above my thighs.
It's probably the last time this pregnancy I'll be able to squeeze into my old uniform. I grab the duster and head up the staircase.
At the top of the stairs I turn left. I think I'll go to the east wing today.
I slip into the sitting room. It’s the room where we had our first encounter with the plush chaise longue.
Although he kept his promise and we've tried every room in the house I keep going back to this one. The room where I first heard his voice. The room where I first fell in love.
I swish the duster lazily over the mantelpiece until the prickles on my neck let me know he's watching. He lets me carry on for a few moments before speaking.
&nbs
p; “Panties off. Skirt up. On your hands and knees,” he barks. I comply without hesitation a thrill running through me as my knees sink into the plush carpet.
“Close your eyes,” he says.
I close my eyes. My heart racing as I wait to hear what the master of the house commands of me.
THE END
King of the Air
By Sadie King
Jackson
Build an empire and retire young. That’s always been the dream. But now that the time has come to hand over my business, I’m not sure I can do it. Then I see her, and I know in an instant some things are worth holding onto.
Ashleigh
When I get on the crowded train home, the last thing I expect to find is a hot stranger with more than the daily commute on his mind. When he orders his private helicopter to secretly meet us at the next stop, I know he’s dodging someone, and it looks like I’m along for the ride.
Chapter 1
Jackson
The Indian Ocean after a storm. That’s what her eyes remind me of.
It’s been vexing me for the last twenty minutes, ever since she got on at West Haven and nudged her way through the throng of commuters to stand right in my line of sight.
I’m supposed to be giving the contract for the Lincoln takeover one last read before signing. My table’s spread with papers, and my fountain pen’s filled and ready in my breast pocket.
The board will be expecting a signed contract when I step off this train in another hour.
But all I’ve done for the last twenty minutes is stare at this woman and wonder what it is her deep green eyes remind me of.
It’s only her eyes I can see. The rest of her is tantalisingly hidden by the frosted glass that separates first class from the regular carriage.
She must be slumped against the side of a seat or really short for her eyes to fall in the slit of plain glass between the frosted.
She keeps glancing down at something, and thick strands of blond hair fall over her eyes. Every so often she sweeps them away, but they keep falling back, they’re un-tameable.
I want to sweep the hair back for her. Hold it in place, have those sea-green eyes look up at me while I thrust my cock into the exquisite mouth I can only imagine goes with such tempestuous eyes.
My dick hardens thinking about her, and I’m overwhelmed by the urge to see more of her.
I stand up. At 6 foot 2 I’m taller than most and can see over the frosted glass. God, she’s beautiful. Stunning.
Shoulder length blonde hair, plump pink mouth, and those mesmerising eyes. She’s a curvy girl, and from where I’m standing I can see her cleavage.
Her breasts come together in a perfect line. They’re pale and bouncing slightly with the movement of the train.
My god, I want to send my dick sliding between those two beautiful folds. I close my eyes for a moment imagining what it’d be like to shoot hot cum over her tits.
My breathing is shallow, and my dick's hard. I have to have this girl.
But there’s something else about her. Something in the innocent turn of her mouth, her total unawareness of the impression she’s making on me and probably every other goddam man on the train.
I’m suddenly full of possessiveness for her. I don’t just want to fuck her; I want to make her mine. Forever. No one else will have this sea-goddess but me.
My phone rings, the annoying shrill bursting through my thoughts.
“Jackson,” I bark, already annoyed at the caller for interrupting my reverie.
“Is the contract signed yet?”
It’s Julie, my executive assistant, and she sounds harassed.
“Mr. Saulo called again. Is there anything I can tell him? He’s getting nervous.”
“Tell him I’m going over some final figures,” I say through gritted teeth. “He’ll have the contract when I get off the train in an hour.”
“He wants to know whether he should still have the champagne on ice.”
“He can do whatever he likes with the champagne. He’ll have the contract when I get off the train.”
I hang up and throw my phone on the table.
If I’m going to hand over my business, I’ll goddamn do it in my own time.
I sit down and look at the papers spread before me. My life’s work. My empire.
The plan was always to build it up and sell it on, retire young.
My biggest competitor has made me an offer. It’s a generous one. I’ll be a billionaire for life without having to lift a finger again. The numbers look good, he’ll retain all the staff, and the board is behind it. Yet something’s making me hesitate.
I always knew it would be hard giving up my self-made business for a life of retirement, but what I didn’t anticipate is the sense of dread I feel about retiring.
I know a life of idleness won’t suit me. I could start again, get another start-up going. Put in the long hours and learn a new field. Or, I could put a stop to the deal. Keep what I’ve got and expand.
Half the board will probably resign, and I’ll make an enemy of Mr. Saulo. I run my fingers through my hair and sit back. For once in my life, I’m at a complete loss of what to do.
My eyes are drawn back to the woman on the other side of the glass. I may not be certain about this acquisition, but I am certain about her.
She will be my woman. It’s as simple as that.
The train jerks into the next station and she straightens up, her eyes disappearing behind the frosted glass.
I stand again so I can see into the carriage. If she’s getting off at this stop, I’m going after her. But no, she’s only moving aside to let someone else through.
She has her hand on a large cardboard folder which is nearly as big as she is. It looks like some kind of portfolio. It’s big and awkward, and as the new passengers get on, she’s getting jostled.
A frown creases her brow as she pulls the portfolio toward her, trying to get it out of the way of the other commuters.
A man pushes past her and throws her a disdainful look. She smiles at him apologetically, and he turns away annoyed.
Anger surges through me. Who is he to look at my goddess like that?
My fists clench by my sides. I’d go out there and rearrange his face, but I don’t want her first impression of me to be a violent man who can’t control his anger.
What the hell is happening to me? To get me so riled up about a woman I don’t even know?
The train’s doors are about to close, and there’s a surge of last-minute people piling into the carriage. As she moves forwards, she catches her hip on her portfolio and plunges onto her hands and knees.
While my body is moving to slide open the first-class door, my dick has time to take in the beauty of this woman on her knees. I hope she doesn’t notice my raging hard-on as I pull open the door and pull her to her feet.
She’s soft and pliant and looks up at me with her pink mouth open in surprise. I lock eyes with her, and a surge of heat runs down my arms as I lift her to her feet.
“Sit in here with me,” I tell her, without dropping the hold I have on her arm.
“I don’t have a first-class ticket,” she stammers.
I can’t help but smile. “Neither do I,” I whisper conspiratorially.
“Oh,” she gasps, her mouth forming a perfect dick-shaped circle that makes my cock ache.
“It’ll be fine,” I say. “Trust me.”
She follows me in, her confused frown making her look fucking adorable.
“Where’s my...?” She looks around.
Before she can finish the sentence, I retrieve her ridiculously sized portfolio, much to the relief of her fellow commuters, and thrust it into the carriage, sliding the door firmly closed behind us.
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