Good Manors Page 16

  “I think I might come here, all over your sweet cunt,” he growled. “Shall I do that?”

  “Please, Sir.” I grew brave and continued, “Please, Sir, come inside me, fuck me, please.”

  “Hmmm.” The sound had a casual air but the fevered thrusting of his hips betrayed that.

  “I don’t know, you were naughty.”

  “Please, Sir, I’ll be good,” I begged, straining against my bonds. I wanted to pull him into me, to grasp him and hold him and make him fuck me but with arms immobilized and legs bent so far back as to be virtually useless I was at his mercy.

  “Will you be, though? Are you sure?” He thrust higher, the spongy tip of his cock hitting my clit.

  “Yes.” I gasped as lust exploded through my whole body at the impact and he continued thrusting between my wet lips and touching my clit. “Yes, yes, yes,” I chanted. “I’ll be good, Sir.”

  And when I thought I could be happy with this impact, when I could feel my orgasm mounting, he thrust into me, fast and hard, and I screamed out my paradoxical joy, fulfillment and disappointment.

  “Since you asked so nicely,” he panted. He still held my thighs back as he fucked me and I could feel him so fully within me because of the position and the stretch of my muscles.

  “Thank you,” I moaned. “Thank you.”

  I clenched my fists and held on. I wished I could touch myself, make myself come all over his cock. He pressed harder and faster into me—he must have been eager for his own orgasm. I just had to lie back and take it—I was under his control and I loved it.

  Xander was repeatedly hitting spots within me that sparked off clenches and sighs. I moaned my pleasure right up until the moment he shook and ground into me with a loud exclamation of satisfaction.

  “Thank you.” He smiled, once he got his breathing under control. “Thank you, India.”

  He let go of my thighs, so I settled my legs around his waist and he pressed on for a kiss. It might have been a trick of the light but I thought his eyes sparkled more than usual, like he was holding back tears. I threw my all into the kiss he gave me, comforting him, thanking him, loving him. All non-verbally. It was the only way I could do it.

  “I’ll untie you.”

  I felt bereft when he moved away from me to the corners where I was bound. He released me from the posts, but left the tie and bra tied around my wrists. He drew them together in his hands and settled them over my stomach. He lay next to me, his head on my shoulder, one hand holding my ties, the other laying casually on my hip.

  “I love having you tied up.” He slipped his fingers over my thigh and down into the v between. I eagerly spread for him, I needed to come. “Greedy,” he purred into my ear. “Do you need to come, my love?”

  “Yes,” I pleaded as he touched my labia.

  Xander pressed down, his fingertips zapping my clit with the lightest touch, and I arched up off the bed. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good girl.” He rubbed again and set up a rhythm that knocked me against the mattress, his fingers on my clit, rocking up and down.

  “Ask me, sweet slave, ask me when you want to come.”

  “I want to come,” I blurted. I was so close, I didn’t care that I did it so quickly.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes!” I grunted through gritted teeth. “Please may I come, Sir?”

  He didn’t respond for a few moments, and I felt the orgasm bubbling up. If he didn’t stop fingering me, I’d come anyway and just when I opened my mouth to beg one more time he said three worlds that triggered an internal explosion.

  “Come for me.”

  I shook and shuddered and with a few more strokes I came hard, the orgasm stretching out through me from top to toe. I curled up when the pleasure shrank back, then as he stroked my clit another time I threw my body out into a taut star of pleasure because another wave of ecstasy enveloped me.

  I turned to face him—I needed a kiss, to be embraced, and he gave me what I needed. After a few moments of contented rest, he settled to undoing the knots at my wrists. He then kissed the light pink marks all over. I smiled and watched him pepper me with devotion, and slowly my eyelids closed. It had been a very tiring day.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Xander Patrick

  I’d never had sex in the main show bedroom before and I was glad I’d done it with India. I had worried a little when tying her to the bed frame but both came out with nary a scratch. India had driven me to it, she was so wicked and wanton and I could be completely me with her. I’d had the most explosive orgasm and straight after I’d realized I couldn’t keep her tied to me forever. I had to let her go. I could have cried.

  However, I held back, untied her and made her comfortable. She was clearly sleepy so I pulled a blanket out of the bedside table and covered us both with it.

  “We can’t sleep here,” she mumbled into my shoulder. “What if we’re found?”

  “Don’t worry, we won’t be.” I kissed the middle of her forehead. “Just sleep.”

  “But if we’re found together it could ruin the integrity of my story.” She yawned.

  “No one will find us together. Now sleep.”

  “Okay, Sir,” she whispered, and I smiled. She was right, of course, it was all kinds of silly to fall asleep together especially in that room and on that bed but I didn’t care. I wanted to spend our last night together actually together.

  * * * *

  When I woke, the sun was rising and suffusing the bedroom with a light glow. I looked at my watch—it was just creeping round to six in the morning.

  “India”—I gently shook her arm—“it’s time to get up.”

  “Mm?” she answered, stretched then finally opened an eye.

  “It’s time to get up and out of here, before we’re caught.”

  “Oh yeah.” She’d obviously processed all the information as she sat bolt upright, the blanket falling away and revealing her naked breasts.

  My cock jumped.

  “I better get clothes on and… Oh, can I have my bra back now? I need to get my handbag from your office too.”

  We got dressed and chatted at the same time.

  “I’m going to go check on Harriet and the lamb, you coming?”

  “Yeah, but we need to name Harriet’s little one. You know, the poor girl needs a name.”

  India straightened the bed while I put away the blanket and cover. Then I noticed the candelabra had burned to empty during the night and I’d need to put new candles in it before putting it back in the dining room. I picked it up and carried it across the room with me to the door which I unlocked and opened. I looked left and right along the corridor.

  “You’re right, of course,” I said to her once we were safely out of the room and heading toward the main staircase. “But it’s not that easy.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll help. How about Helen or Heather or Henrietta?”

  “Why are they all H names?” I asked, measuring my step down the staircase.

  “Because of Harriet, silly.”

  “I don’t think I want a flock of H-named sheep, India. That’s going to get complicated.”

  “Right, fine then. What about Lily or Nancy?”

  “No, no, definitely not.”

  India sighed.

  “I told you that it’s not that easy,” I replied with a chuckle. “You’ve got to get the name just right.”

  “Well, you suggest some then,” she countered.

  “Okay, I was thinking about maybe Madeline.”

  “The name’s bigger than the lamb!” India exclaimed.

  “Well, you’re right there,” I replied. “Or maybe Jane?”

  “Oh, come on, poor lamb. Jane? What a boring name,” she scoffed.

  “I didn’t hear you doing any better.”

  We bickered over names all the way to the barn via the office to pick up India’s bag. We moved outside through dew-soaked grass and eager birdsong. Spring had definitely started spreading her charms as
the soft heat from the sun had the first daffodils in bloom. I didn’t want the playful banter to end, really, so I kept the name I’d already chosen a secret until we’d cleaned and spruced up the sheep’s living quarters.

  “I think I’ve got the perfect name,” I finally said, leaning over the bars and watching the little one gambol around in the new straw.

  “Oh yeah?” She was leaning next to me, smiling at the lamb’s antics.

  “Yep, it’s special all right.”

  “Well, come on then, don’t keep it to yourself, what’s the name?” India looked at me, and I smiled back.

  “Grace.”

  Her eyes lit up and she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

  “You delivered her, so it seems only right.”

  “Xander,” she squeaked, tears running down her cheeks, “that’s so lovely.”

  I grabbed her into a hug and kissed her, her tears smearing onto my cheeks. I felt as if I could cry myself. When India left, Grace would be my constant reminder of her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered against my ear. “Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome.” I held her tightly. I didn’t want to let go, I didn’t want her to leave. “A little part of you will always be here at Mallard’s.”

  She hugged me tighter, and I swore she sobbed into my shoulder, or maybe it was a laugh filled with tears.

  “Yes, there will always be part of me here,” she affirmed and kissed me again. “But you know, I’m going to have to leave now.”

  I nodded. “I’ll walk you to your car. Then I suppose I better get on with running this place.” I sighed, letting go of her when really I wanted to hold her tight, tell her I wanted her with me forever, but I couldn’t.

  “You do a fantastic job.” She smiled and dashed away the tears from her cheeks.

  We moved out of the barn, Harriet and Grace bleating their goodbyes behind us.

  A few steps away from the barn, we ran into Graham.

  “Oh, erm, morning, boss.” He nodded in my direction.

  “Morning, Graham, you’re starting early today, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, aye, well, spring is here.” He chuckled. The sound wasn’t natural, it seemed forced. “Lots more to do now winter’s buggered off.”

  I looked at him sternly, inclining my head toward India.

  “Oh, pardon my French, miss. I thought you’d gone?”

  “Bad traffic,” she replied. “I ended up turning back and staying here another night.”

  “Oh, right, well, hopefully the roads will be clear today then.”

  Graham walked off before I could work out if that had been a nice gesture or an insult. He definitely didn’t seem impressed at seeing India, or me, for that matter.

  “I don’t like that man, Xander,” she said. “I just don’t.”

  “Oh, he’s all right. A bit abrupt maybe, but he does his job well.”

  India bent down and picked up a scrap of paper from the ground, scrunched it up in her hand then pushed it into her handbag

  “Well, that’s the main thing, I suppose.” She shrugged.

  We walked on in silence for a bit. The closer we got to the hall, the heavier my heart felt.

  “Well,” she said when we got close to her car, “I’ll be in touch with the article when I’ve written it. It’ll be by the end of the day, I have to have it in before deadline.”

  “Okay, cool.”

  “So if you can reply as soon as possible with any corrections—say I get the age of the building wrong or something—I’d really appreciate that.”

  “Yeah, no problems. I’ll keep an eye out for it.” I nodded and scuffed my shoe in the gravel.

  “So, goodbye number two.” I laughed.

  “Yeah, hopefully this will be the last one,” she replied then awkwardly smiled. “That didn’t come out like I meant it to, it sounded mean.”

  “No, no, I get what you meant, it’s okay.” I went in to hug her, and she returned it. I looked round—no one was near, so I went in for the kiss.

  She was startled at first but her lips warmed to mine, and before I lost all power of thought and self-control I pulled back.

  “I know I shouldn’t have done that but I couldn’t resist.” I grinned.

  We both glanced around us and there was no one there, we hadn’t been caught.

  “I liked it.” She smiled and ran a hand down my arm. “Well, Xander, I better go.”

  “Yeah, sure, it’s been a pleasure.”

  “For me too.” One last squeeze and she let go. She fished her keys out of her bag and got into the car. She fastened herself up, put the key in the ignition and turned it. With a little wave and a smile she was gone. Again.

  * * * *

  The rest of the day was a complete waste of time. I don’t think I did any real work, just stared at my screen and remembered. Every two seconds I’d check for an email from her then get back to my memories, my memories of her. I knew it was impractical to think that India and I could be together but I started to plan ways it could work.

  It was difficult. Anything where I would have to spend significant time away from the hall just wasn’t doable and I couldn’t expect India just to turn up on my doorstep when I called. She wasn’t a takeaway pizza. It became obvious that if I wanted India Grace in my life, my life was going to have to change.

  It was about six when the email came through. Nothing personal was attached, just a brief email then the article. Which was stunning. She sang Mallard’s praises and really brought all the people to life. I laughed when I recognized my friends and colleagues there. India definitely had a real talent.

  I quickly emailed back.

  All brilliant, even the picture of me isn’t too horrendous. Thanks so much.

  I spent a long time pondering how to sign it off.

  What am I, a bloody teenage girl? Jesus, Xander, man up. In the end I put ‘see you soon’ and sent it into cyberspace.

  Her response was disappointing.

  Thanks, Xander, I’ll let you know when the article is in.

  Cold, abrupt and just about professional. It made me angry. We’d shared so much when she’d been here. I thought I’d met someone I could see in my future and she barely acknowledged my email. It didn’t seem fair. I was convinced that she felt more deeply than that for me.

  A knock on the door roused me from my musings.

  “Come in.”

  In trotted Mary with a plate in one hand and a bowl in the other.

  “I noticed you had nothing in for your tea, Xander, so I saved you some of ours.”

  “Thank you, Mary, that’s very kind.”

  She put the plate on my desk, the bowl next to it.

  “I’ve not seen much of you.” It was a statement and a question.

  “I know, I spent the day with India yesterday as I’d been such an absent host when she was meant to be here, and today I’ve been head deep in paperwork.”

  “We’re keeping a track on things in the shop and there wasn’t a penny missing last night or tonight.”

  “Well, that’s good,” I replied with a smile.

  “Mm.” Mary nodded. “I wonder why it’s stopped now. We haven’t done anything or fired anyone? Why stop?”

  “Well, maybe they realized we were close to working out who it was. You’ve added in all the extra stocktaking systems. They probably think it’s too risky to continue.”

  “Well, I hope so, sir, I really hope so. I’ll keep you informed.” She looked tired. All this suspicion and extra vigilance was wearing on her. She was naturally such a sweet and caring individual, it had to have been hard to keep thinking of everyone as a potential thief.

  “Thank you, Mary, you’re a star.”

  “Well, I do my best.” She smiled. “Now eat up before it gets cold.”

  Mary stood over me until I put the first forkful of spaghetti into my mouth, then she nodded, wished me goodbye and left. It was only when I ate that I realized I’d not ha
d any other food that day. I hadn’t felt hungry at all.

  I seethed quietly about India’s email right up until visiting Harriet and Grace the next morning. I was so annoyed by her dismissal of me. How could she be so callous after all that we’d shared? I just didn’t know.

  But maybe I did. Maybe it wasn’t just hard for me. Maybe she struggled with it too. It was a classic light-bulb moment. I couldn’t bear to think that she’d not felt as much for me as I did for her. Maybe it was too much, maybe she’d been thinking things through just like me. Change was difficult. If she realized I’d have to break away from the hall to see her, break out of the twenty-four-seven routine of looking after the hall, my inheritance and how hard that would be for me then she’d know how much I’d have to give up for her. Maybe she didn’t want to ask for fear of rejection.

  I raced back to the hall and skidded into my office. On the computer was a list of all our newsletter recipients and I knew she was one of them. I scrolled through the addresses until I found hers, scrawled it down on a bit of paper then rushed out of the office again.

  “Gerald, let Mary know I’ve gone out, will you? She’s in charge.”

  “Yes, sir.” Gerald nodded as I power-walked past.

  I didn’t have time to tell her myself. Mary would have a million and one comments and questions for me that she didn’t really need to ask. She was a natural panicker. There wasn’t enough time to reassure her, and she’d cope admirably without me anyway. Though truthfully, I just wanted to get to India—the hall could fall apart in my absence but in that moment I was uncaring.

  Relief flooded me when the car started. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d taken it out, but the tank was full and after a little cough and a splutter she ran beautifully. I kept my eye on the road but my mind was definitely distracted. What was I going to say to her when I got there?