by Amelia Jayne
“That’s my girl,” he praised, his fingers stroking inside me lazily, rubbing against the hard plug buried in my ass. “How does it feel to be my dirty girl?”
“It feels… strange, but not bad.”
“Not bad?” he laughed. “Let’s see if we can do better than that.”
I was still in the middle of trying to smile over that boast when he attacked my pussy again like a man with a mission. This time he didn’t bother to make me tell him what I wanted, he just fucking did it. Already sensitive, my body slammed into immediate overdrive as he buried his face in my mound and shoved three fingers in my hole to reach right for that spot that drove me fucking insane. Every few strokes he’d nudge against the plug in my ass and it sent a jolt through me, catapulting me higher and higher.
“Oh fuck…” I panted, unable to say or even think beyond that sentiment. I was close, so fucking close, but I didn’t dare say or do anything for fear of losing it, desperate to relieve the unbearable tension.
“Come for me, Lily,” he rasped against my hot folds. “Come for me now and I’ll fuck you hard, so hard…” It was the need that got to me, the desperation that matched my own, pushing me over the edge.
“Yes, fuck yes!” I screamed, my pussy clenching tight as unbelievable pleasure washed over me. And then he shifted and his cock sank inside me, so thick and hard, and fuck… so deep… it only took three strokes and I was coming again. His breath was hot on my neck, his long hair brushing against my face as he rammed into me again and again, his hard body slamming into mine with punishing force. Suddenly, he gave a guttural cry, his body rippling over mine in a deep shudder as he came in a rush of heat.
I wanted to wrap my arms around him and hold him, to guide him to my breast, to feel his silky skin, but all I could do was lay there and catch my breath as he collapsed on top of me.
“Fuck…” he breathed, and I couldn’t agree more.
That was way better than not bad, it’d been fucking life changing. Even though the thing in my ass was tiny in comparison, I started to wonder what it would be like to feel him back there. Filling me, stretching me, pounding deep. The thought had my pussy clenching, and Aidan moaned, still buried deep inside of me.
“Give me a sec,” he said, his face still buried in my neck, but his arms formed a cage around me as he propped himself up to keep from crushing me.
“You’re good,” I whispered, enjoying his weight above me. But a few minutes later, he pulled out and sat back. Without him above me, I started to feel slightly uncomfortable with my position and the thing in my ass, but he was right on top of it.
“Easy now,” he murmured, pulling the plug free. It felt weird, but not uncomfortable, and then I felt him gently clean me off with a soft towel. “You did exceptionally well,” he praised, unbuckling the restraints at my ankles next, his fingers smoothing over the skin in a tender massage.
“Did I?” It was so uncommon to get words of praise from him, I almost wondered if it was some kind of a trick.
Aidan removed the cuffs from my wrists next, kissing the center of my palms before stretching out beside me with a tired sigh. “Yes, I’m very proud of you.”
I don’t know why, but that satisfied me on a completely different level than the mind blowing orgasms he’d delivered minutes before. “It was kind of amazing, wasn’t it?” I sighed happily.
“Don’t get cocky, kid,” he chuckled, pulling me close. There weren’t any blankets or top sheets to the bed, but I was warm enough snuggled next to him. The man put off heat like a furnace.
This was fast becoming my favorite part of our time together. Yes, the sex was off the hook good, but he shared so little of his life with me, I lived for these few moments when his guard was down. While he didn’t usually answer too many questions, at least he didn’t stick to that only speak when you’re spoken to rule he preferred when we were in the zone, as I liked to think of it. God knew I agreed to things while in the zone that would make me blush scarlet in my normal headspace. Like tonight’s foray into ass play.
“How old are you?” I asked, bracing myself for what was likely to be either an honest reply or a stinging rebuke, if he decided I was being too personal.
“Why?”
“I’m just wondering. Is there a bit of salt and pepper in your hair?” I sank my fingers into the spray of crisp hairs on his chest, and he chuckled.
“Would that matter?”
“No, just wondering is all. Are you a dirty old man, or is this the first year you got hair on your pubes?” I teased. The image I’d seen of him in the reflection hadn’t been precise enough to tell his age, only that he was still in the prime of life.
“I’m thirty-four.”
“Wow, dirty old man it is.”
“Watch it,” he growled, giving my ass a half-hearted smack.
“Sorry,” I laughed, not sorry at all when he smoothed his hand over it a second later. “I guess no gray hairs then.”
“Not yet, no.”
“I want to see you.” I knew he’d say no, but it still stung when the denial came.
“That’s not possible.”
“Why not?”
He tucked me into his chest as he held me closer, his chin resting on top of my head. “Because then the fairy tale would be over.”
The almost whimsical quality of his response caught me off guard. “Is that what this is? A fairy tale?”
“I’m under your spell, aren’t I?”
I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. “If that were true, you’d be the one in the blindfold.”
“No chance of that happening,” he snorted.
“Oh, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it, huh?”
“It doesn’t matter what I can take, I’m the one calling the shots.”
“If you say so.” He’d sure seemed bent on pleasing me earlier, even though I’d been the one in a blindfold and cuffs. “Do you always make the girls you’re sleeping with wear the blindfold?” Or was it just me?
“The girls I’m fucking, yes. I don’t sleep with anyone, let’s be clear about that.”
His voice had become less playful, and I regretted the change, but kept pressing, nonetheless. “Why?”
“Because I like my privacy.”
“No, why do you make them, or I mean us, wear the blindfolds.”
“Because duct tape is too messy,” he quipped.
“No seriously, I’d like to know. Why the blindfold?”
“Because I don’t want you to see me.”
“Why not?”
“Because you won’t like what you see.”
Not like what I’d see? Was he nuts? The brief glimpse I’d gotten was all kinds of hot. What was not to like? Or had I only seen what I wanted to? But even if he was horribly disfigured, looks weren’t everything. I’d still want to get to know him better than I did now. “Do you really think that matters to me?”
“It fucking matters to me,” he growled, his entire body going rigid, and I fumbled for his hand, giving it a squeeze.
“I don’t care what you look like.”
“Then why do you want to see me so badly?”
“I’m just curious is all.”
“Well, tough shit, I’m not here to satisfy your curiosity. You’re here for my needs, remember?”
“Yes, I know, but…”
“But nothing. You know what they said about curiosity and the cat? This pussy’s about to go down.” Aidan flipped me over, entering me in one quick stroke that made me gasp in surprise. He pumped into me hard and fast, his hands holding tight to my hips. I pushed myself up on my elbows, trying to adjust to the sudden invasion. It was the first time he’d taken me without a word of preparation, and luckily I was already wet from the last time. Almost as if he’d read my mind, his hand reached around, fingers finding my clit as he pumped, and I moaned, going from confused to aroused with one stroke.
It didn’t take long for him to bring me to the edge, and my head fell forward,
gasping against the pillow as I strained to reach it. “Oh God, I’m… I’m gonna…”
He let go of my clit, grunting as he slammed into me once, twice, three times as he came. Disappointment swept through me as I realized he wasn’t going to take care of me too. Instead, Aidan pulled out, tossing my robe at me as he rolled off the bed.
“Clean up and go to your room.” The door banged shut as he left me there, swollen and unsatisfied.
“Son of a bitch,” I breathed, tearing off the blindfold, but he was gone. I considered storming after him, demanding to know what the hell was wrong with him to use me like that, and then I laughed at the absurdity of it. Wasn’t that what I’d signed up for? I gathered up my clothes and left, hoping I didn’t run into anyone else on my way to my room. I stepped into the shower, as hot as I could stand it, too depressed to touch myself and ease the ache between my thighs. There was something seriously wrong with Aidan Pierce. So what did it say about me that I craved his approval so badly?
~13~
Aidan didn’t call for me the next night, or the one after that, and I wondered which one of us he was punishing. But on the third night, he sent for me and proceeded to fuck my brains out, without a word about the way we’d left things between us. He wasn’t particularly cold, but he wasn’t warm either. And when we were done, he patted my ass with a “good girl” and left without another word.
After a couple of nights like this, I started to get the message. No more cuddling and pillow talk, I was there to service his needs and that was it. Anything else… I guess I was kidding myself about there being any kind of a connection there. It sucked, but after I made that realization, it got easier. It wasn’t like I’d come to the mansion looking for my Prince Charming anyway, so who cared if he liked me or not? I was able to enjoy him on that physical level, and that was fine.
Still, most days were kind of boring. I’d already worked my way through the complete works of Jane Austen, both Bronte sisters, and most of the way through Tolkien before I got bored (the movies were way better, and much more man candy to look at). I wasn’t used to having so much free time, and there were only so many hours in the day I could spend fantasizing about how he’d take me next. Okay, maybe I wasn’t completely fine with the distance between us, and I spent more time than I should wondering what he looked like, but it was my time to waste and there was plenty of it.
After I finished re-organizing the library, I tackled the pantry, eventually befriending the cook with a peace offering of my grandmother’s secret recipe for lemon snowbars. Baking kept me out of trouble for a while, but a restless energy consumed me. How did Aidan handle roaming around the house all the time – even a house that size? How did he not go completely batshit crazy after a while? Or was that what’d happened? Had he gone off the deep end because the walls had started to close in on him?
Since I couldn’t ask him any more questions, I turned to the one person who might have the answers I wanted. Mrs. Fisk.
I found her in the dining room, polishing a mountain of silver. Without missing a beat, I caught up a rag and pitched in. We worked in silence for a while, and then started chatting about the cherry blossoms on the trees outside. Spring was on the way, though it was still bitterly cold at night.
“Have you worked here for a long time?” I asked nonchalantly, and she gave a ready nod.
“Nearly forty years, if you can believe it.”
My brows rose, impressed. “Wow, that is a long time. Did you come with the house when Aidan moved here, or has this place belonged to his family for that long?”
“Oh, it was in his family for much longer than that. His great-great-grandfather built it back in the day. My aunt Bessie was housekeeper when I first came on as the upstairs maid, and her mother before her.”
“Ah, then you’ve known Aidan for a long time.” Jackpot!
“Yes, yes I have,” she smiled at some past memory. “He was born here, you know.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Oh yes, he grew up in this house. He was a happy boy, full of life and too much energy for his own good,” she chuckled.
I tried to picture Aidan as a kid in such a huge place, so cold and alone, and came up with a blank. Maybe it’d been different with the rest of his family there? “He lived here with his parents?”
“Of course,” she nodded. “His mother was a pretty thing, but not strong. She died when he was only seven, giving birth to another son.”
“How sad,” I murmured. No wonder he was so shitty at female relationships, he’d never had a mother to show him how to treat a girl. “I thought he didn’t have any brothers or sisters.”
“Oh no, the baby died only a few days later. Such a tragedy,” she said with a cluck of the tongue. “Poor old Mr. Pierce was never the same after she died, you know. Took to drinking and carrying on. Wasn’t hardly here for years afterwards, and when he was, he hardly looked twice at Master Aidan.”
“That’s awful.” What a lonely way for a boy to grow up. I didn’t always get along with my sisters, but at least I’d never been alone.
“It was,” she agreed, her hands stilling as she looked off into the distance. “I think it was hard for him to look at the boy. He had something about his mother in his eyes back then.”
“But not anymore?”
“No, I’m afraid that’s been long gone,” she sighed, polishing away again.
“Why?”
“Boys grow up, don’t they?” she said with a tight smile.
“I suppose they do,” I agreed. I couldn’t even picture Aidan as a boy. He seemed so hard. Not just physically, but mentally. “He had other friends growing up though, didn’t he?”
“Oh yes, he was very popular when he went away to school. The girls chased after him plenty,” Mrs. Fisk chuckled.
“I’ll bet.” The tiny glimpse of him I’d seen had seemed like the stuff that would send any teenage girl’s heart beating faster. “No one ever caught him though?”
“I wouldn’t say that. In fact, it’s probably because he loved so deep that he’s shut himself away here now.”
“Didn’t work out, huh?”
Her face clouded. “I wasn’t here that weekend, I couldn’t say what happened.”
“What weekend?”
“The night we lost Miss Felice. I’ve never asked the master about it directly, of course.”
Lost her? Like she left him or something worse? “No, of course not. I know how he gets. Was anyone else here who might know what happened?”
“Oh no, I’m the only one who’s still around. He sacked everyone else after the accident.”
“What accident?”
“Of course it was an accident, no matter what you’ve heard.” Her eyes suddenly flew wide with alarm. “I shouldn’t have said anything about it.”
“But you didn’t tell me anything. What accident?” I pressed, my sense of dread skyrocketing in direct proportion to the shake in her hands as she threw down the polishing cloth.
“Begging your pardon, miss, but I have chores to see to.” With that, she rose and got the hell out of there faster than I thought an old biddy like her could move, leaving me to stare after her.
What the hell had happened that freaked her out so badly? Or was it just fear of what Aidan would do if he found out she’d been gossiping about him? I couldn’t imagine he’d actually punish the housekeeper, wicked temper or not. But maybe she was afraid she’d get fired for breaking the rules? That had to be it. At her age, she probably didn’t want to start all over again finding a new job, and most likely she didn’t have anywhere else to go.
Despite my burning curiosity, which had already earned me a black mark in Aidan’s book, I decided to drop it for her sake, as well as mine. It was none of my business anyway. Aidan could shroud himself in mystery all he liked. I’d finish out my time at the mansion and go home to my real life with my real friends, who didn’t feel the need to keep me under their boot.
Speaking of friends,
I wondered if I had any new messages from Michael. I hadn’t meant to, but I’d gotten in the habit of texting to Michael most nights. I had a dumb phone, not a smart phone, so I didn’t have access to emails or the internet, just texts. And I was lonely. My sisters pretty much ignored me, beyond sending me an occasional selfie to make me jealous when they were at an exclusive club or a raging party. All I got from them about my dad was that he was okay, or same as usual, which didn’t tell me shit.
I’d asked Michael to try and find out more, but so far he hadn’t had a chance to get up to the city and find out for himself. But finals were over, and I knew he’d had the weekend free, so I hoped he’d have some good news for me.
[Hey, did you make it to the city this weekend?]
[I did.]
Thank God! [So, did you see him? How is he?]
[Not so fast. I want to talk to you.]
My heart clenched painfully. [Why? Is it bad? Just tell me here!]
[No, I want to hear your voice. You owe me that.]
Shit. [I can’t. It’s complicated.]
[It can’t be that complicated, Lily. You’re texting me from your phone now. Just call me.]
[I’m not supposed to.]
[See, and that is exactly why I want to talk to you. When you say fucked up stuff like that, it drives me insane with worry. Why aren’t you supposed to talk to me?]
[I just can’t. Please tell me how my dad is.]
[No. Not unless you call me. I need to hear you’re okay for myself.]
[Never mind then.] I couldn’t take the risk of someone hearing me.
[Just call me, Lil. I miss you. I need to hear your voice again.]
I didn’t reply and a few minutes later, he sent, [Give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you want.]
My fingers hovered over the call button, and I moved to the window seat, trying to get as far away from the door as possible. Still too risky. I’d never been told I couldn’t leave the house before, so I threw on my chunky boots and a sweater, and slipped downstairs, out the library doors to the courtyard outside. Forcing myself to take slow steps, I walked to the side of the house, where there were fewer windows, and headed for the trees. Once I was well away, with a few trees between me and the house, I dialed him up, my fingers trembling.