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18: Her special place
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Promised to the father, married to the son 19: Spiders and boots
*Ben* It is late afternoon by the time I, covered in sweat and grime, stride into the kitchen. I don’t know why I believe that if I work in the mines alongside the miners that fortune is more likely to smile on them and they will discover a tin-rich vein after two years of nothing. It had made the men uncomfortable when I first began digging beside them. I am their boss, the CEO of the company, born into the rich upper class. It had taken them a while to accept my help, my determination. But I enjoy stretching my muscles, pushing myself to the limit of near physical exhaustion. It keeps my mind from traveling the path of despair. Today it has kept me from breaking my promise to my wife that the day belongs to her. I shouldn’t have kissed her before I walked out, because her taste stayed with me far too long, it kept my body tense and in need until I went down into the pits where there is always a danger that I will not come out. So perhaps my father has the right of it. I really
Promised to the father, married to the son 20: Showing his trust
*Skye* As he escorts me from the room, I am a bit surprised … based upon the way his eyes had darkened as he had rubbed my chin … that he hadn’t tossed me on a nearby sofa and pulled up my skirt. Once outside, I lock the door, already dreading the encounter I will have with Mrs. Barney regarding the keys in the morning. I am going to reclaim the room whether Ben likes it or not. When he isn’t around, I will entertain myself by playing the piano. I understand it is his house and his rules, but some rules are in need of breaking. Carrying on down the hallway, I become very aware of my uneven gait, my slipper whispering along the floor, his boot clomping. “How are you managing to keep my boot on ?” He asks. “I stuffed newspaper into the toe and around the sides, filling up the space around my foot. A trick I learned from my mother, who always bought our shoes a bit large so we could grow into them and they would last longer”. I explain. He looks surprised. “Our shoes ? You had sib
Promised to the father, married to the son 21: Teasing him
*Ben* She is going to drive me mad. i am fairly certain of it as I sip my scotch, staring out the window of the library into the darkness, and wait for her arrival. After hauling up the tub and water, I had been incredibly tempted to lounge against the wall and watch as she removed her clothes, as she stepped into the bath, as she dribbled water over her skin. But if I had stayed, I doubt that she would get so much as her tiniest toe wet before I had her on her back. I yearn for her with a fierceness I do not want to acknowledge. Never before has any woman affected me as she does. So I had walked out simply to prove … more to myself than to her … that I could. I never would have expected to find Sky on her hands and knees cleaning. Granted, Mrs. Barneyis no spring chicken and her efforts yesterday with the parlor had been sadly lacking, but she had made the room habitable. And she is the housekeeper. It is her job to keep the house. But Sky has begun seeing to the things herself,
Promised to the father, married to the son 22: An interesting dinner
*Skye* Montie had been attracted to me, and had wanted me. He had made that clear the evening he introduced himself at a charity event. But he never looked at me with the smoldering intensity thatZ ac does. While he sits across from me, several feet away, I am acutely aware of the desire thrumming off him as the wine is poured. Although desire seems too tame a word. He had wanted to spread me out on the desk and have his way with me. I had seen it in his eyes. I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted that he managed to keep his urges under control. I would be smart not to taunt him so brazenly, not to give the impression that I am somewhat of a wanton, but I need the marriage consummated before the sun rises again. It is the only way to ensure this arrangement can’t be easily undone, is the only way to guarantee a measure of protection should Montie discover where I am hiding. I had been careful, never using my name during my trip here, never using the main system of tra
Promised to the father, married to the son 23: Their goodnights
*Ben* She licks the pudding from her spoon, slowly, provocatively, all the while making little moaning sounds that cause me to harden, my skin to tighten and my breath to hitch. I have no doubt that she knows precisely how much she is tormenting me and is taking delight in doing so. I want to throttle her. I want to kiss every inch of her. I want to laugh, a large boisterous guffaw that will echo through every corner of the manor. I can’t remember a time when I had enjoyed a woman so much … and I have yet to enjoy her fully. My own pudding remains untouched. “Perhaps you would care to finish my dessert too”. I offer when she finally sets her spoon aside. “Don’t you like pudding ?” She asks. “I don’t have much fondness for sweets, which must be why I like you. You’re so tart”. I tell her. Surprise washes over her features. “You like me ?” Had I said that ? Damn it all to hell, I had. Without thinking of the repercussions or how she might interpret the words. That she might find
Promised to the father, married to the son 24: Passion blooming
*Skye* Standing in the hallway, I fight to ignore him telling his father that he doesn’t like me. I take some consolation in the fact that he doesn’t seem to despise me. And he had given me the keys. There might be no affection lost between us, but ours will be a civil relationship. At least outside the bed. I suspect it is going to be quite untamed within it. Stepping out, he closes the door, turns the key, waits a heartbeat as though needing a moment to shake off the melancholy that comes over him after spending time with his father. Then he faces me, giving away nothing, none of his doubts, his concerns, his troubles. “What’s wrong with the mines ?” I ask. His jaw tautents and his eyes narrow. “Nothing is wrong at the mines”. “You answered so quickly”. And so tersely. “That I was rather sure you didn’t want to discuss the matter with him”. “I didn’t”. He takes a step nearer to me. “My father loves his mines. Get him started on them, and he can go on for hours. I have little
Promised to the father, married to the son 25: Unexpected pleasure
*Ben* I am reluctant to admit that I might never have enough of simply kissing her. The way her luscious mouth moves beneath mine, how it welcomes me, how it has me anticipating her womanhood welcoming and closing around my cock. Because I want her so desperately, I fight to curb my body’s aching needs, refusing to give in too quickly to the temptation of her. But before the night is done, I plan to know her in every way possible. She is remarkably beautiful, every inch of her is flawless. She could bring any man she wanted to his knees. Which is why I vow here and now to never go to my knees for her. Breathing harshly, I tear my mouth from hers, plowing my fingers into the thick silken strands of her hair, and begin removing the pins. Gasping for breath, she says. “It would have been easier if you’d done that whilst standing”. “I didn’t want anything to obstruct my view”. I comb her hair out over the pillows, the glorious red in stark contrast to the pristine white. All the while
Promised to the father, married to the son 26: Afterglow
*Ben* I must have done it properly. It leads to another round. One that goes a little quicker than the first, but is no less intense. She's so blasted tight that at first I had thought she was a virgin. But there had been no blood to clean up. And she is far too comfortable with a man’s body not to have been around one before. Still if I didn't know better, I would think the pleasure she had experienced had taken her by surprise. We have finally gotten around to moving the bedding aside. She is lying on her back, one arm raised, her hand toying with strands of my hair, while I rest up on an elbow and trail my fingers over her sternum, along her ribs. I had tried going down her side to her hips only to discover she is a bit ticklish. Who would have thought ? “I’ve never done this”. She says quietly. I still, my hand a quarter of an inch away from cupping her breast. “You were a virgin? But you were married. There was no blood”. She laughs lightly, running her fingers up over my scalp.
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