by Emma York
“Exactly like that,” I said as I started to undress. “And don’t move.”
SEVENTEEN - TILLY
I heard him undress but I didn’t see it. I was looking down at the rug, feeling his eyes on me. The heat of the fire was already working, the cold of the loch slowly ebbing away, my nerves coming back to life.
I was here. I was naked and I was pointing my ass at him for him to admire. A few minutes ago I’d been leaving forever and now I was here.
He loved me.
I smiled as I thought about it, about his grand gesture on the loch, the way he’d nearly sunk both boats in his efforts to get in front of us, to get me to listen to him.
He had been stupid but so had I. I shouldn’t have walked away. I should have called him. We should have communicated better. That would be something for us to talk about later. I got the feeling there would be an awful lot we’d both want to talk about later.
But at that moment, I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to feel his hand on me. He fulfilled my wish a second later but not in the way I was expecting.
“This is for being stupid with your money and wasting it all on an idiot who's too stubborn to ring you,” he said.
Before I knew what was going to happen I felt a sting in my ass. His hand had smacked down on my right buttock sending intense shock through my body, bringing the skin to life, heating it more than the fire ever could.
He spanked me again a second later. I couldn’t help gasping at the sensation but I wanted more. I wanted so much more.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, knowing what effect those words would have on him. “I have been a naughty girl.”
“Wicked,” he growled, slapping my ass again and again. “You must try harder.”
“I will,” I said, getting into the role of submissive as if I’d never been away. “Please forgive me.”
He smacked me a final time, his fingers then tracing lines over my buttocks, making me shudder at the sheer overwhelming sensation of it all.
My pussy was tingling with need and I shuffled my knees apart, pushing my ass further up, wanting him to get the hint.
He spread my ass wide, his tongue running down in a line, finding my hole, nudging into it, lapping around it as I moaned into the rug under me. He dipped his tongue in and out of my ass before kissing where he’d spanked, moving up my back and then down again, his hands wandering over my thighs.
My world revolved around him, his touch, his smell, everything about him. The past was forgotten. I wasn’t even thinking about the future. I was just thinking about the present and nothing else, the moment with him as his finger slipped into my pussy, exploring, probing, withdrawing, making me cry out with pleasure as he teased me to breaking point.
“On your knees,” he said a moment later.
I was too shaky to move quickly, almost losing my balance as I turned and caught sight of his cock, rigid, throbbing, moving towards me.
I couldn’t resist taking hold of the shaft in my hands, pulling him towards me, needing to taste him. He looked down at me, his fingers running through my hair as I opened my mouth.
He kept his body still, making me move. I wrapped my lips around his length, loving the feeling of being gagged by his cock, feeling it pulse on my tongue. I stared up at him, seeing the hunger in his eyes as he began to thrust, fucking my face. All the while my pussy throbbed with need but I ignored it, concentrating on giving him pleasure.
I fought for breath when he pulled back but then he was in again, making it impossible for me to move away, holding me in place, groaning loudly. “You look good with my cock in your mouth,” he said. “I want to see that a lot.”
I smiled as best I could, running my tongue over the tip of him, rewarded by it twitching in my hand.
“On your back,” he said, pushing my shoulders down, moving between my legs, kissing my thighs while stroking his way up my stomach. He buried his tongue in me at the same moment his fingers reached my aching nipples, teasing and tugging at them, kneading my breasts while lapping inside me.
I ground my hips onto him as he moved up to my clit, the motion of our bodies enough to send an orgasm racing through me a minute later. When it struck, he immediately move up me, looming over me, my hands stroking the muscles of his chest as he impaled me on his length in a single solid motion.
I gasped out loud, my climax still tearing through my body, the duration increased by the way he rocked inside me. “I love you,” he said, leaning down and kissing me. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Fuck me,” I replied, my voice a hungry growl. “Come in me.”
He pulled back and began slamming home but after too short a time, he stopped. “On all fours again,” he said.
I obliged all too eagerly, pushing my ass back at him as his finger dipped again into my pussy.
Then it was easing its way into my ass, stretching me, making me wince as he used my wetness to lubricate the tight little hole.
“I’m going to own that,” he said, sliding his finger free. “Are you ready?”
“Fuck me,” I said, enough of an answer for him.
The tip of his cock ran down the valley between my buttocks, finding the hole, nudging into it as I tried to breathe through the discomfort. The pain didn’t last long, he was expert at judging just how slow to take it, making sure I was ready before moving deeper into my ass, rocking gently in place, letting me move back onto him as I stretched and widened around his length.
“Come in me,” I said again. “I want to feel it.”
I moved one hand to my clit underneath me, rubbing it in the way I knew would work best, frantic to reach another climax.
Mine hit just after his. I felt his cock suddenly twitch and spurt into my ass and the sensation tipped me over the edge. It was the first time I’d ever had anything in there but I didn’t care, I just knew it felt incredible, so perfect because it was with him.
My climax made my body grip him, all the muscles inside me spasming together, my back arching, his hands on my hips, holding me against him until the last drops were squeezed from him. Only then did he slide slowly out, kissing my buttocks lightly before moving to lay beside me on the rug.
I could feel the heat of the fire again. It had been forgotten in the moment but I was glad of its glow as I lay naked beside Robert, stroking his chest with my hand, my heart gradually slowing, my breathing returning to normal.
“Welcome to your new home,” he said.
“It’s yours,” I replied. “I gave it to you.”
How about its ours?”
“Deal.”
“I have one question though.”
“And what’s that?”
“Can I be your gardener?”
I laughed. “Have you read Lady Chatterley’s Lover? That's the type of gardener I'm after.”
He kissed me again, the sound of the fire spitting behind us dying down in the noise of my emotions. I felt pure joy. Nothing that had happened before mattered. All that mattered was the present and the future, our future together.
EPILOGUE - ROBERT
The castle was full of people. I could hardly find a quiet spot without someone wanting to talk to me. I managed it in the end, heading outside to the boating shed, needing to think.
After all that had happened, the place was open to the public again. Angela would consider it a victory. It was her only one.
I had read about what happened to her in the paper. She’d taken the money she’d stolen and pumped it all into a castle over near Aberdeen. Unfortunately she’d picked a castle that was on the verge of falling down and she hadn’t bothered to take out insurance on the place. When the west wall collapsed, it had taken out half the marquee of her first concert. From the amount of court cases in progress against her from the traumatised ticket holders, the money would soon all be gone.
I struggled to find sympathy for her after what she’d done but when she appeared on the island with the other guests, I was shocked.
S
he took me aside, talking in a quiet voice that spoke of shame. “I see you’re having a wedding here,” she said. “Need the money?”
“Why are you here, Angela?”
“I wanted to say sorry for everything.” The words were quiet, mere whispers, her shoulders sagging as she talked.
I took a deep breath. “I see.”
“I want to come home.”
I looked at her but she didn’t look bitter, she looked very tired and very old.
“I think they could maybe use some help in the kitchen.”
She managed a smile, a tear running down her cheek.
I watched her go. I could have sent her packing but what would have been the point? Tilly had taught me a lot about the power of forgiveness since we’d started running the place together. It wasn’t giving power to the other person to forgive them, it was giving yourself the power to let go of their hold over you.
Keeping angry about what she’d done would not have changed it. And if she hadn’t taken the money, I wouldn’t have put the place on the market, I wouldn’t have accepted Tilly’s offer. I wouldn’t be where I was. The universe has a funny way of working sometimes. Who was I to try and understand it?
Tilly had forgiven Eli Caffrey. If she could do that, I could forgive Angela. She looked like a broken old woman as she walked away. The court cases weighed heavily on her shoulders. What would be the point of adding to that pain she had brought on herself? I'd just make sure to keep the financial stuff locked away from her. Just in case.
Eli had his own court cases to worry about. Tilly might have forgiven him but her story leaking out gave courage to a number of other women to tell their tales, of being trapped with him in his office, in his elevator, in his car. Gold Standard Productions had gone into liquidation due to all the settlements but Tilly was in great demand. Not just as a scout but to tell her story. She refused all the offers. “I have a castle to run and a wedding to plan,” she said to anyone who called.
She had taken on the running of the place as if she had always been here. The guestrooms were booked up for the summer and she had a number of people working under her to keep organized. I worked under her too in a way. I was still her gardener. She loved the walled garden as much as me and we spent a lot of time together in there.
It had been like a dream since she’d come back. The debts were cleared, the rest of the money invested into the place. The roof had been repaired, no more leaks, no more drafts. That made it easier to attract guests. The money they brought meant we could hire staff and that meant we could concentrate on the grounds, returning them to their Victorian splendor. We had the photos in the books to go on, working together and living together, just being together.
Today we were apart though. She had spent a long time making sure the first wedding here would be absolutely perfect. I decided to check in, see how things were going.
The venue looked beautiful. It was taking place in the old ballroom, huge windows letting in the light, flowers festooning the curtain tops, the string quartet playing quietly in the corner.
The registrar was standing over at the far end. As I walked in, he nodded in my direction. I walked up the aisle and returned his greeting. “Good to see you again, Harold. How’s it going?”
“Just waiting for the bride,” he replied.
I turned and looked at the roomful of guests. There was Seabert in the middle, Hedley beside him, the two of them deep in conversation. Dr Montgomery was at the end of the aisle on the right near the entire population of Doon village, all twenty-five of them.
The door at the back opened and there she was. Tilly. Dressed in my great grandmother’s silk and lace wedding dress, it fitted her perfectly, the second American to wear it, the second American to marry a King.
She beamed at me from under her veil as she walked towards me. “You look stunning,” I said when she reached me.
“You’re not so bad,” she replied. “In the right light.”
“Thanks.”
We turned to the front. The music died down and the ceremony began.
I had prepared my own version of the vows as had Tilly. When it came time for them, I almost lost it, drifting off in the depths of her eyes before remembering what I wanted to say. “When you first came here, I knew I didn’t want you to go. You agreed to stay for one night and I’m glad you decided you’d like to be here a little bit longer. My great grandmother came over here from America. She couldn't bring herself to leave. I'm glad the same thing happened to you.”
She smiled at me. “Robert, you offered me one night with you. I chose a lifetime. I've never felt more at home than right here with you.” Her hands slipped into mine as I kissed her, the guests clapping loudly behind us.
During the dance after the ceremony, I took her hand, weaving our way through the guests over to the hidden door, nodding towards them as we passed by. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“I’ve got something to show you,” I replied. “Won’t take long.”
She giggled as we slipped away. I took her outside, down the steps to the door we’d last used to hide from Eli. “The dungeon?” she asked. “What for?”
“You’ll see.” I pushed open the door and showed her what I’d done.
There was a long roll of carpet along the tunnel and at the end she gasped as she saw the chamber filled with candles and flowers.
I had blankets draped across the floor, wine ready for us both on a small table.
“Do you remember what we did last time we were down here?” I asked.
She turned to face me, sliding the wedding dress up her legs. “Of course.”
I raised my eyebrows as the dress reached her hips, revealing her lack of underwear.
“You mean you haven’t worn panties all day?” I asked.
“There's a lot you don’t know about my kinky side,” she replied with a wink. “But you’ll soon learn.”
I grabbed her, spinning her round to spank her ass. “You naughty girl.”
“I think you need to get used to calling me your naughty wife.”
I spanked her again, drawing a gasp from her. “What if the guests hear us?” she asked as my hand ran between her legs, seeking out her wetness.
“Then we better be quiet,” I replied, turning my head to blow out the candles.
I kissed her in the darkness, pushing my tongue into her mouth as she wrapped her hands around me.
I could hear the music faintly playing upstairs but the only music I cared about was happening between the two of us in the pitch black, the music that only plays when a husband and wife are truly, madly, deeply and completely in love.
END OF BOOK
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Emma York is the author of contemporary romances featuring plenty of steam, a splash of BDSM, and the all important happy ever after.
Emma lives in Yorkshire with her wonderful partner and their pet dog. She loves roaming the wild and lonely moors for romantic inspiration before heading home to curl up by the fire with a good book and a pile of chocolate chip cookies.
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