Chapter 99: The Girl Who Was Hunted - Chapter Fifteen


    CHARLOTTE


    Daniel seats himself close to me, too close, and I lean away from him. “Hey, c’mon. You enjoyed my


    it slightly.


    “You’ll have to ask James.”


    “I don’t need to ask him surely? You can decide for yourself.”


    “I have decided for myself and I said, ‘No.’ I mean it. Now leave me alone.”


    “You were happy enough to have me bang you before. Don’t you think you’re giving me mixed signals?


    ying hard-to-get?”


    “No. I don’t give mixed signals. And I don’t y hard to get either. I y, or you don’t get me.”


    Daniel, with his back to the window, has not seen that Richard, ncing up, has noticed what is


    happening, and is muttering something to my Master, who twists around to look. As he sees Daniel, he


    scowls and stands.


    Stepping out into Reception, he does not look happy. “Hello, Daniel. Something I can do for you?”


    “Just chatting to Charlotte here.”


    “Yes, I can see that.” Lips pressed hard together, his eyes skim over me……


    Jeez…I’m going to get it off himter…


    “Leave her alone, Daniel. Was there anything else? No? Then, Goodnight.” His expression is severe,


    the message clear.


    Daniel shrugs and leaves, trying to catch my eyes as he goes. I look away.


    “Has he been bothering you?” demands my Master.


    “Not much, no.”


    “Not much? This has happened before?”


    “Er… yes, a few days ago.”


    “Were you nning on telling me about it?”


    “If I told you about it, every time some guyes on strong, we’d never talk about anything else.”


    His eyes narrow.


    Oh, shit.


    “Is that right?” He turns on his heel and returns to the office.


    *****


    Later, driving home. “Master. Are you angry with me? About earlier today, with Daniel?”


    “No. It wasn’t your fault. I could see that you were not encouraging him….”


    *Relief*


    “…. however, I have dispensed with Daniel’s services.”


    “You’ve sacked him?”


    “Yes.”


    “You didn’t have to do that. He wasn’t bothering me. I’m quite capable of saying ‘No’.”


    “He was bothering me. You shouldn’t have to keep saying ‘No’.”


    I stare down. “You are angry with me.”


    He nces sideways at me, then rxing, he smiles, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze.


    “No, Charlotte. Really, I’m not. You will have to forgive me. I’m in unfamiliar territory when I suffer


    jealousy over you. You’re right. With your looks, you are bound to draw male attention. I can hardly


    hold it against you, especially when I can see you refusing it.”


    I stare out of the window.


    Let’s hope it stays that way…


    *****


    Back home, despite my Master’s words, I am expecting a reaction.


    I am not disappointed.


    He stands over me, an arm to either side of me as he leans against the wall, caging me with his body. If


    I were not sure that he loves me, I would be intimidated.


    “My first choice, to remind you how to behave, and who you behave with, is to strip you naked where


    you stand, m you up against the wall and fuck you ‘til you scream….”


    My pussy floods…


    He bends to nibble at my neck, whispering “…. And my second choice is to say something like that to


    you to get you aroused, then carry you to the bed and make love to you.”


    Wow…….


    His smile is gentle as his lips brush mine, so softly, fingers caressing my hair. As I lean into the kiss, his


    arms sweep around me at head and waist, pulling me in close. The kiss is long and leisurely, slow and


    coaxing, his stubble scraping slightly against my skin


    My Master does not often make love to me. Usually, we fuck, and hard, but now, the mood is upon him,


    and his touch is tender and passionate. He is such a beautiful man, but seldom does he show me this


    side of himself. In this mood, I see his soul.


    His fingers in my hair, he trails kisses down my neck. He smells sweet and musky, a clean masculine


    scent that always sets my blood pumping. Fingering the tie of my bathrobe, he unravels it, pulling the


    robe apart. Stooping to kiss the top of my breasts as the garment falls open, he takes one nipple


    between fingers, and the other between his lips, sucking gently.


    I am trembling now, my fingers stroking through his hair as he loves me with his mouth, my nipples


    crinkling to tight peaks. Then standing upright in front of me, he slides the robe away from me entirely,


    leaving me naked before him.


    He cups myrge, slightly pendulous breasts, lifting them a little, almost as though feeling their weight


    in his hands, before, reaching up into my hair again, he removes the pins and clips that hold it under


    control. He fingerbs my long locks to fall free, still a little damp from my shower, loosely about me,


    tumbling over my shoulders and breasts, to drop by my waist.


    His dark eyes are all but ck, pupils wide. Still without electricity in our home, our lighting is from


    candles. His lean face is cast to chiselled shadows by their flicker.


    He doesn’t move, waiting, I think, inviting me.


    And now, I open the buttons of his shirt, slowly, one by one, to reveal his broad chest, with its fine


    scattering of dark hair, and his taut, t belly. I unbutton his cuffs and push the shirt away over his


    shoulders, and down.


    Tracing the outline of his muscles with a finger, I follow the fine line of hair down his abs to where it


    vanishes below his belt. He bulges to the front, but as I move to his belt, he takes my hands, moving


    them away. “Not yet.” he murmurs.


    Then he slides arms under my torso and hips, and, eyes soft, crinkling at the corners, he lifts me,


    carrying me to the bed, lying me carefully down. Sitting beside me, he brushes my hair away, fanned


    over the pillow. His hands sweep over my body; my belly and breasts, my thighs, down my calves, as


    though trying to consume me, the whole of me. Fire jabs, exquisitely, through me, my core liquefying,


    and I sigh, arching, reaching for my Master with outstretched arms. Silhouetted against the candles, the


    dancing light makes a dark halo of his hair.


    He takes one of my hands in his, our fingerscing, and he kisses my fingers, but then releases the


    hand to bend, nuzzling the inside of my thighs.


    His hand over the vee of my red hair, glistening with my juices, his fingers stroking me deeply, slowly.


    Sighing, I spread myself for him, my fingers tunnelling into his hair, as he opens me wide with swirling


    fingers.


    He dips deeper, sheathing his tongue inside me and I gasp, shuddering. And now he is working me


    open, his tongueshing inside me, driving me wild.


    “Master. Please. I want you inside me.”


    He pulls himself upright, looking pleased. “As my Virgin requests.”


    Standing, he unbelts, doing battle with his own erection to release it as he unzips. I giggle.


    “Don’tugh, Woman,” he growls. “A man has to have some dignity.”


    “How do you have dignity, when you have body parts with a will of their own?”


    He chuckles. “I’ll show you….” and naked, he lies beside me, resting his face against my chest, I think,


    listening to my heartbeat.


    I stroke him, his cock swelling further, filling my hand. The blunt head of his erection pressing my palm,


    I rub finger and thumb over the ridge, enjoying the twitch and jump of his response.


    “Enough!” he says. “You’ll finish me off.” And pulling himself above me, resting his weight on his


    elbows, he teases at my pussy. “Ready?” he whispers.


    “Mmm, yes.”


    “Thought so. You’re very wet.” He nuzzles against me, not entering. His movements are small, but my


    body responds, my heart pounding as he presses his flesh against mine, tantalising my swollen core.


    My breath catching, I try to swing my hips, to take him inside me, but he withdraws. “No.” he murmurs.


    “Remember who is Master here.”


    I rx, lying quiescent. “That’s better. You can have a little more now.” And he test-probes my


    entrance, pushing his cock-head slightly inside, stretching me open, but not prating deeply. He


    holds the position, his cock gripped by my palpitating pussy.


    He sighs, dropping his head to my chest, his own breath juddering and I feel the shiver of his lean


    thighs as he fights for his own control.


    “I want to fuck you brainless, but I’m not going to. We’ll take it nice and slowly this time.”


    “Master, please.”


    “No. Do as you’re told.”


    I obey, to lie quivering, as my Master prates me so slowly, only a little at a time, before withdrawing


    again. My pussy vibrates, trying to clench around him, but he holds himself free of me until I settle


    again. Then again, he teases inside me, making a couple of short quick thrusts, again winding me


    tighter, something coiling up tight inside me.