by West, Jade
“You really are a dirty little princess, aren’t you?” he said, and I nodded.
“I think I always have been. I just needed you to show me.”
“Oh, I’ll fucking show you,” he said. “I’ll show you everything.”
He picked up the pace and I bucked up to match him, and we were nothing but grunts and thrusts. Grunts and thrusts and us, moving together. My fingernails were digging into his shoulders and his breaths were in my ear and I felt so naughty and so young under the strength of him in my uniform. I loved how naughty and young I felt in my uniform. Loved how it made him want me all the more.
“I’m going to come inside you,” he said, and I nodded. “We’ll need to start being careful,” he told me. “But I need to come inside that pretty little pussy. I can’t resist coming inside that pretty little pussy.”
I couldn’t resist him coming inside me either. I didn’t want to. No matter what the risk.
I’d come so many times already under his tongue. Just one long mess cresting over and over. But this was different. This was so different.
I think it was how forceful he was in his thrusts. The way he slammed hard enough to jolt me so sharp underneath him, his flesh slapping mine so loud. I guess it was how low his rasps were as he let himself go inside me, but I was crying out myself when he unloaded, losing myself as hard as he did when he came so deep.
We caught our breaths together, him still inside me. I was still breathing hard when he pressed his mouth to mine and pushed his tongue in deep. I tasted of myself, and I liked that. I liked tasting how much he’d kissed me all over.
I couldn’t help the long moan when he pulled out of me.
He stepped back to investigate what he was leaving and my whole body burned for him. I pressed my thighs together when he pulled my knickers down, but he opened them right back up afterwards, and I knew it wasn’t over. Not by a long way.
The lust in his eyes told me exactly what was coming, and so did the swell of his dick for round two.
“I hope you’re ready for more,” he told me.
I nodded. Seriously hoping I was.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Miles
She was such a good girl, just like always. So keen to do her best, even when that best was hard. Taking as much as I wanted in that tight little slit of hers.
I loved her for that. Her enthusiasm for everything ahead of her.
I’d always loved her for that.
I pulled out the lube and the sanitiser from my cabinet drawer before pushing her further onto the bed and climbing right up beside her.
She watched me with such nervous eyes as I prepared and slicked up my whole fist, and I adored the genuine sparkle of apprehension in her expression.
My Faith truly was a beautiful creature.
My beautiful creature. It was just a tragedy it could only be temporary.
There was a whole life waiting for her. A whole life without me. There weren’t even the words to express how fucking pitiful an outcome that was for something that felt so fucking right.
It was just a shame it was something so fucking wrong at the same time.
“Hold your legs up nice and high,” I told her, and smiled as she pulled them up to her chest. Those sweet holes of hers were so inviting. Her ass still raw as it winked at me, her pussy still so slick and dripping from taking my cock.
She held her knees and let her thighs fall open, taking such a natural breath as she stared up at me.
Her tie was still lying so neatly against her blouse, her skirt hitched high in such a contrast to the nakedness of her most private treasures. Just how I wanted it.
“Take a deep breath like a good girl,” I told her and lined my fingers up just right.
I pushed in three as she sucked in air, easing in a fourth on my next push, and she took it. Took it like my princess.
“Is that sore?” I asked and she nodded.
“Sore but good.”
I twisted my hand and pushed a little deeper, and she moaned for me.
She really was so fucking tight. Beautifully fucking tight.
My cock throbbed to its own fucking tune down below, and my mouth watered at the sight of her stretch.
The whimper that came out of her when I rubbed my thumb against her swollen clit was perfection on top of perfection. Her knuckles were white under her knees, gripping so tight.
“That’s it,” I encouraged. “You can take it.”
I twisted and pushed, long and slow, in and out, stretching her to the knuckle, and she turned quiet, even as her hips kept pushing back. And there she was, walking that fine line between pleasure and pain.
“I know it’s sore, sweetheart,” I said, “But trust me, it gets so much better.”
She nodded, but didn’t speak. Just quiet little breaths. So fucking quiet.
Her voice came back as I pushed a single finger into her asshole, crying out so sharp as she dropped her thighs.
“Legs back up,” I told her, and my voice was firm. “Nice and high and spread them wide.”
I could have abandoned the whole beautiful spectacle as she closed her eyes and did as she was told. I could have pulled everything out of her and slammed my cock in hard for another round. But I couldn’t ever do that. This was too fucking good.
“That’s my good girl. Such a good little girl for me,” I said, and my voice was alive with so much want. “Look up at me, princess. I want to see your face as I make you take it.”
There were those nerves again. Nerves alive in her beautiful blue eyes. So fucking stunning.
“Get ready,” I told her, and she blubbed out a cry, just a little.
My second finger going in that asshole was enough that she shivered. I held them firm in place, so fucking deep as she strained for me, but my thumb worked that clit so hard. So fucking hard.
“Concentrate on that clit,” I said, and my voice was firm all over again. “Concentrate on how good that feels.”
And she did.
She concentrated so hard when I worked that horny little nub, enough that she was rocking against me just a little through the strain, and I used that just as she needed. Just as she needed to take more.
My fist went in to the knuckles, four fingers stretching that innocent little pussy to its limit. Three more were a thick push in her asshole, and she was full. So fucking full for her first real go. Still such an innocent little virgin just gone. Still such my sweet little angel.
“Fuck my fingers,” I told her, knowing full well it would be so fucking hard. “Move yourself on that bed and fuck my fingers.”
She whimpered. She paused. She let out a fuck before she dared to try it, pressing her hands down onto the bed and using them as leverage. I knew it was raw. I knew it was sore. I knew she must have felt full to fucking bursting, riding so close to no more.
But she liked it.
Through all the strain, she fucking liked it.
Just like my perfect little girl should.
She pushed herself against my hands like a dirty slut would, even though she was so new to this filthy game. She focused on her clit through the pain, and cried out a yes as the groove found her.
Oh, how I gave it to her.
I gave her my everything. My full concentration, my full rhythm, my full want. And she took it. She took it all.
Her climax was a delicate one. Her face to the side, pressed to the bedsheets, the hint of strain right through her cries as she came, and I was so gentle in the aftermath as I pulled myself out of her.
She was an absolute fucking picture. The greatest picture of them all. One I could never resist capturing for all time.
I grabbed my phone from the night stand and called up my camera, and then I asked her to look at me, with glorious eyes that were so used up and taken by the strain.
She was divine. The picture was magic. Absolute fucking magic.
And then the girl surprised me like she so often had in her life. Always so good. Always
so passionate. Always so keen to do more.
“Please fuck my ass,” she said. “Please, Miles, please fuck my ass. Just my ass this time.”
Jesus Christ, the smirk on my face. It must have been bright enough to burn out the sun.
“My fucking pleasure, sweetheart,” I said, and climbed back on top of her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Faith
I’m surprised I could walk once he’d fucked my ass and filled me up deep all over again.
I felt so stretched. Aching, and throbbing, and sore, and exhausted.
But happy.
So, so happy.
My adrenaline was running wild with my endorphins, and I couldn’t stop grinning like a crazy thing as he helped me down the stairs and back to the dining table, where we sat in robes and finished up our pasta from earlier, enjoying it even though it was cold.
I loved it like this. Us. Laughing and talking and being so normal.
He poured us some more wine, and I loved the zing of the sweetness, and then he paused, staring over, and I found my belly fluttering to a whole new tune again.
“What?” I asked. “What are you thinking?”
He tipped his head and pondered, and then he spoke.
“I was just thinking you’re ready.”
I put down my wine glass, tipping my head to mirror him. “Ready for what?”
“Ready to lead the next auction,” he said, and my heart pounded like utter crazy.
“What?”
“You’re ready to lead the next auction,” he repeated. “On Friday. I know you can do it.”
I’d only dreamed of being the one at that podium and one day taking charge of the event, being responsible for matching the items with their highest value and the right bidder.
“But it’s soon,” I said. “I’m still just learning everything.”
His stare stayed strong. “You’re ready. I know it. This Friday will be your show.”
I couldn’t quite digest it, such a privilege. My heart couldn’t quite take it in, like so much of this amazing dreamland I’d found myself walking into.
To most people they wouldn’t even see it, what a big deal it was to be up at that stand, driving the bids higher. They wouldn’t see how important it was if you really loved the collectibles industry, how much skill was involved. How much knowledge and confidence and respect from the crowd you needed. So much instinct. So much tone.
“Do you want to?” he asked, and I couldn’t nod quickly enough.
“Hell yes I want to! I’ve wanted to since I was a little kid!”
“Then it’s Friday,” he told me. “The Friday show is yours.”
I’d had so many ambitions brewing since being in that office with him, but leading a show had always been the a big one. I’d seen so much already from working with people there, especially from working with him, and I had so many ideas coming through. So many thoughts. So many things I wanted to learn and give back to the business before having to leave.
But first I had to do this well. I had to show him I was capable – just as capable as he obviously believed I was.
“Thank you,” I said, and meant it so much. “Thank you for having so much belief in me.”
“I’ve always had belief in you,” he said. “And you’ve always proved me right. I know you will this time too.”
I would.
I really, really would.
We finished up the pasta and drank a bedtime glass of milk in the kitchen, then laughed as we showered and I fully comprehended how battered I was, even though it felt so good to know he’d been so deep.
He held me tight in bed, and again I felt so right with him, sleeping super soundly until his alarm went off early and I knew it was time for reality to kick back in.
Reality and a whole new facade of being normal. The normal young Faith Martin my parents weren’t ever prepared to see growing up.
I sighed and rolled to face him, opening sleepy eyes to meet his. “I have to head back home. Mum and Dad will be expecting me to eat breakfast and get changed for work after Holly’s place.”
“Of course, princess,” he said and kissed me.
I kissed him back with morning breath and the desire was too much.
Too much that I opened up easily for him and he fucked me so gently, there in his soft warm bed.
He kissed me again as we showered, told me that he’d miss me. And God how I’d miss him too.
He made me toast and orange juice before I went, and once again I had to be so careful how I wrapped my coat around myself, and so careful that my steps were small enough for my ass and pussy to take the walk home.
I took a steadying breath and headed on into the kitchen with a smile, putting a fresh load of toast in the toaster while Mum and Dad were making their porridge. I acted so normally, like this was just another standard day, keeping my smile bright and being careful not to wince as I took a seat at the breakfast bar, still wrapped in my coat and trying not to draw attention to it.
“Good night at Holly’s?” Dad asked, and I nodded as I buttered my toast.
“Yeah, it was good thanks,” I said. “Laughed a lot. Had fun.”
“You stayed over, then?” he pushed, and Mum was staring right over too.
I had the strangest flash of uh oh in my belly. Like I was a kid again. Being naughty again.
I took a breath before keeping up with the story. “Yeah,” I said. “It got late so we figured I should.”
“Well, that’s interesting,” Dad said, and Mum shook her head at me. “That’s interesting considering I saw Holly’s Mum in the supermarket late last night while I was grabbing a fresh bottle of milk for this morning. It was interesting considering she hadn’t seen sight of you, and Holly was watching TV on her own in her living room when she’d left to do her shopping.”
My heart dropped. Actually dropped.
I didn’t even know what to say to that. So I didn’t say anything, just sat still and burned up as he lost his temper with me.
“You can be a lot of things, Faith Martin, but a liar isn’t one of them! I can’t believe you would lie to us! To me and your mother! I can’t believe you would lie to us and make such stupid decisions in such an important summer!”
I should have stayed quiet and apologised, like I would have done so many times before over the years. But I couldn’t. Not this time.
I was eighteen years old and had gone out for the night, that was all. I had a car on the driveway they didn’t think I should be owning, and needed an alibi to spend a night out on my own, and it was stupid. So stupid and so unfair.
“I’m eighteen!” I shouted. “I shouldn’t need to tell you if I’m staying with my best friend for the night or not!”
“But you do!” he shouted back. “While you live under our roof, as our daughter, who should be making the right choices in her life, you do fucking need to tell us if you’re staying with your best friend for the night, and don’t you even dare to think about lying to us!” He paused, and he was so angry. I felt sick to see how angry he was. “You are not a liar, Faith Martin! You’re a much better girl than that! I’m so hurt and surprised and ashamed of you. We both are.”
How that hurt. It really did hurt.
To see them both so upset by my lying really felt like shit to me, but I couldn’t help it. How the hell could I help it?
“I’m not a naughty kid anymore,” I told him and meant it. “Really, Dad, I’m not a kid anymore. You can’t keep expecting me to be.”
“You’re a child until you are responsible enough to make decent decisions, Faith. Lying to us and sneaking around like a reckless little teenager certainly doesn’t help your case any.”
“So what are you going to do?” I snapped, and hated how I sounded. “Ground me? Tell me how naughty I am and take my phone off me?”
He scoffed at me. “It’s certainly tempting.”
I shook my head, struggling to even believe this crap. “I need to get ready for
work,” I told them both. “Clearly I’m responsible enough to do that properly.”
I got up from the breakfast bar without finishing my toast, and Dad stood up from his seat, still so angry as he looked at me.
“If you don’t act like a better girl from here on in, Faith, you won’t be working that summer job anymore. I’ll make sure of it.”
I stepped back towards him. Eyes scorching his. “You can’t take my job away from me, Dad! I’m leading the auction on Friday! I’m doing really well! Miles says I’m doing really well!”
“And Miles will be listening to me when I tell him whether you should or shouldn’t be working there. I promise you, Faith, that ball is firmly in my court.”
I struggled to swallow my tears down, not wanting to seem like a stupid little girl any more than the one he was already seeing me as.
“You’d better stay away from Stephen Jones,” he said, and my heart did another lurch at how he still thought it was all about the warehouse guy. “You stay well away from Stephen Jones, or I’ll make damn sure you do myself.”
“Fine,” I said, and headed off into the hallway. “I’ll stay well away from Stephen Jones, just stay well out of my business.”
For the first time since I was thirteen, I stormed upstairs and slammed the bedroom door behind me.
So much for being the grown up, but it wouldn’t have made any difference if I was anyway.
I’d never be a grown up to Mum and Dad.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Miles
I really did think Colin was onto us as he stormed into my office that morning. He was so angry, his eyebrows were low, his cheeks red with the mist he was simmering with.
“You said you’d look after her,” he snapped at me. “You said I didn’t need to worry about it.”
“Worry about what?” I quizzed, and he pressed his palm to his forehead.