Rich Pickings (12 page)

“What about you? I mean, would you mind…?” I’m not sure just what I’m asking here. Would he mind me staying in Yorkshire when he goes back to Cumbria? Would he mind me working for his brother’s company? Would he mind me assuming he gives a damn?

“Sweetheart, I’m easy either way. I’m thinking of asking Freya to sublet her apartment to me, and if she agrees you’re welcome to share it. But you won’t be in the spare room any more. Or if you decide to stay in Yorkshire it’s only a couple of hours away. I come down pretty often anyway to scrounge a decent meal from Grace. We’ll work something out. It’s up to you.”

Share it?
He’s asking me to share an apartment with him.
Shit.
Now, there’s an us. And here was me wondering if he’d even want to see me again after this weekend. I’m just gaping at him like an idiot, to such an extent that he casually leans across and places his fingers under my chin to close my mouth. My jaw snaps shut, and I continue to stare, incredulous.

“I never thought— I mean I didn’t realize…”

“Me neither until just now. But it’s a nice idea. Don’t you think?”

“Which? I mean…”

“Both ideas are nice. It’s your choice, love. But the offer of a decent job doesn’t come along every day. And you can always come to Kendal at the weekends.”

And he’s right. I know he’s right. We may need to compromise, both do a bit of work, but I can take this job and continue to see Dan. What’s more, it seems Freya’s been planning this all along, the cunning little cow. I’ll have words with her, though not especially angry ones.

On impulse I pull my knees to my chest, dragging my feet from Dan’s gentle hands, and squeeze myself. I’m squealing, giggling, hugging my happiness inside me. Is this what joy is like?

* * * *

Dan and I are snuggled in bed. The peppermint oil stayed on the worktop while we chatted about my job offer, and Dan’s plans for moving to Kendal. He currently lives in a rented house in Keswick, but that’s not convenient for his practice. He needs to be in South Cumbria and has been contemplating a move. If Freya doesn’t want to sublet, he’s thinking of taking another apartment in the same building, but not surprisingly he fancies the penthouse. I wouldn’t lay money on her agreeing, she does love the place, but it’s worth asking her.

I’m not sure where I’d live if I accept the job with Ashley. When I accept it—there’s no remaining doubt in my mind. Dan tells me that between them Tom and Nathan own a dozen or more cottages around their properties so I’ll have a choice. The text said nothing about accommodation being thrown in, but Dan seems pretty sure it’ll be part of the deal. We’ll see. There’s a lot to iron out, but the main thing is, I want to give it a try. I texted Ashley back before we came to bed.

Thank you. What a lovely offer, and what a surprise. I’d love to work for you. When can I start? S xxx

She replied within minutes.

Soon as. Talk tomorrow. A xxx

So now I’m nestled happily in Dan’s arms, my back to his chest, my bum tucked up tight against him. His cock is nudging my swallow tattoos, which feels appropriate for some reason. He pulls me closer, though I would not have thought that possible.

“I’m glad Ashley tracked you down.”

“Me too, though I was intending to come home to Kendal anyway.”

“Mmm, but would you have come back to the club?”

Good question. I think for a few moments. “No, I doubt it. You terrified me.” Not strictly true, it was me that terrified me, not Dan. I turn in his arms, intending to set the misunderstanding straight. He loosens his arms around me to give me space to move, but that’s all the leeway I get.

“I think we both know that’s not how it was. I challenged you, pushed you, hurt you perhaps. But I didn’t harm you. You didn’t run from me, did you?” His voice is low and sexy, and although he’s very much in Dom mode he’s not seeking to intimidate me now.

His repertoire is most impressive. And effective. Despite his unthreatening manner I’m moved to apologize. “No, Sir. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. Forgive me.”

He drops a kiss on the top of my head. “You’re forgiven, love.”

“No spanking?”

“You’ll save until tomorrow. Get some sleep now.” His palm is on my bum, my swallows once more receiving some welcome attention as he caresses my skin.

I’m still pleasantly sore from our activities earlier in the evening.

“Thank you,” I mutter, my nose pressed up against his chest.

“Do you know the collective noun for swallows?” His fingers are lazily tracing my tattoos as he drops the question, seemingly out of the blue.

“Mmm, yes, Sir, as it happens I do. I Googled it a while back.”

“Yeah? Doesn’t surprise me. What is it then?”

“A flight usually, or a gulp.”

“A gulp of swallows? I like that.” He pats my bum gently.

I wriggle under his hand, loving his touch. “There are more. You could have a kettle of swallows, or a swoop.”

“A swoop? Makes sense.”

“Yes. My personal favorite though, is a richness of swallows. That one’s a bit obscure.”

“A richness? That’s gorgeous. A richness on your bum. And in my hands.” To demonstrate his possession of my ‘richness’ he shapes his hand around my bottom, smoothing his palm across my tender buttocks.

“Yes, Sir, in your hands.” I agree, as I drift off to sleep.

* * * *

I awaken before Dan. It’s light, the morning sun streaming through the open curtains. We’re on the top floor and short of a passing airplane, no one’s likely to be able to see in so we saw no point in closing them. I lie still, enjoying the sound of Dan’s gentle breathing behind me. He’s curled around my back, his leg slung across my hips. One arm is draped over my shoulder, his fingers grazing my breast. I’m sure he’s asleep, but even so, his touch seems deliberate, studied, intentional as ever.

I lift my eyelids to gaze around me. As I lie still, I start to notice other things about this room, details I didn’t spot when I first came in here last night. There are solid beams spanning the ceiling, incongruous in such a modern structure. Several of them are sporting chunky-looking metal rings. No prizes for guessing what those are for. I know that the chest at the foot of the bed contains a dizzying array of sex toys, paddles and several canes, as well as rope and a number of leather straps. There’s a chest of drawers at the other end of the bed, and I wouldn’t be surprised to find that stuffed with consumables such as lube and condoms. And peppermint oil.

I squeeze my thighs together as I contemplate what the morning may well bring. He’ll have to get a move on—we need to be leaving by around eleven I think, in order to be back at Black Combe for the board meeting which starts at one. This may be an informal gathering of friends, but I know that Nathan and Tom will expect everyone to be on time. Dan’s a member of the board so is expected to be there. I’m not sure if I’ll be allowed to attend, but I gather Freya’s been invited. They’ll be discussing the finance for the wind farm project which Tom has been working on. I know Freya has an interest in sustainable energy and is thinking of investing in the scheme, especially as by now she’ll have explained to Nick that she has rather more in the bank than he may have imagined.

I roll onto my back, wondering how that conversation went. The movement reminds my bladder that it’s been a while, and I know I’m going to have to make a move soon. A couple more minutes tick by whilst I drift happily between sleeping and waking, then the increasingly urgent signals from my bladder force me to extricate my snug and cozy self from the cocoon of duvet and Dan. I slither from the bed and make my way silently across to the en suite.

I’ve just reached the door when Dan’s voice rumbles from somewhere under the covers, “Have one for me while you’re there.”

* * * *

“How long do we have.” I’m sipping a creamy latte, which Dan has conjured up from the rather amazing coffee maker perched proudly on the kitchen worktop. I had a close look at it yesterday, but was unable to fathom out how to get so much as a gurgle from it. The machine looks so elaborate I wouldn’t be surprised to learn it could launch a lunar expedition, but Dan has the measure of the gadgetry and has managed to produce a cappuccino for himself and a latte for me. We’re lying on the bed, both naked, propped up on a pile of pillows.

“An hour or so. Just enough time for me to deal with you. I promised your richness a spanking, you’ll recall.”

I wriggle contentedly as my pussy moistens. “So you did. My poor swallows won’t know what’s hit them lately.”

“Well, they have a choice this morning. My hand, a paddle, or maybe a tawse.”

“What’s a tawse?”

“A leather strap, split into two strands. Has quite a bite to it…”

I glance at him, and see a familiar wicked glint in his eye. Neither me nor my swallows may get any choice at all in this.

“I’d like to come to the meeting this afternoon, if that’s alright.”

He shrugs, seemingly not put out by the abrupt change of subject. “Of course. You’ll be welcome.”

“Thanks. And—I’d really prefer to be able to sit at the table without whimpering. I don’t want everyone staring at me.”

His smile is broad, his pleasure genuine. “Miss Jones, you are to be congratulated on your forward planning. It’s clear that Ashley made an inspired choice when she offered you that job. The paddle then. But I’m borrowing a tawse from Nathan’s box of tricks. We’ll take it with us. You really do need to feel it wrapped around your delicate little arse before much longer. Now, drink up and lie across the bed.”

I watch over my shoulder as Dan pulls his jeans on and zips them. He leaves the button unfastened as he rummages around in the chest before pulling out a heavy looking length of black leather. He tosses that onto the bed beside me. The tawse I suppose. It looks severe.

I clench my buttocks defensively as Dan crouches beside the chest again, and this time extracts a spanking paddle made of rubber, a deep scarlet in color. It looks a little like a table tennis bat, but it’s flexible. He demonstrates that as he stands behind me, bending the instrument in his hands.

“Ten on each cheek, I think. Keep your legs closed for this.”

There’s to be no spanking my pussy this morning then, by the sound of it. And no application of peppermint oil either. This puzzles me.

“Sir, may I ask something?” Always worth a little caution at this stage, worth checking he’s open to questions.

“Of course. Go ahead.” Apparently he is.

“What about the testing you did yesterday, the peppermint oil? Are we going to use that?”

“I admire your enthusiasm, girl, but as it would be the first time I’ve done that with you I’m not sure how long the effects of the oil will last, and I wouldn’t want to have to cut your session short. You would not bless me for it if that happened. Soon, though. Ready?” He flexes the paddle again, then slaps his thigh with it.

I stifle a pang of jealousy at the veiled reference to other submissives who must have preceded me. The submissives who he has used peppermint oil with. I suppose I knew, he’s clearly experienced in this craft of his so must have gained that expertise somewhere. I just prefer not to have to think about it if I can help it.

“Yes, Sir.” I roll onto my stomach, my hands stretched out across the bed, and relax to meet that welcome bite of pleasure mingled with pain as he paddles my bum.

Chapter Seven

The drive back to Black Combe passes quickly. Neither of us is saying much, but the silence is companionable and we are both contented enough I think. Well, I am, certainly. My bottom is smarting, and my pussy has a delightfully well-fucked burn to it as well. Dan is forceful and powerful as a lover, or Dom, and although I’ve been having a truly wonderful time my body is beginning to feel somewhat the worse for wear. I’m wondering if he might be persuaded to, I don’t know, let me have a night off…

Even as that notion forms in my head I dismiss it. He won’t, and I don’t want him to. I shift in my seat, savoring my discomfort even as I wince. Dan slants a glance in my direction.

“The next time I fuck you, it’ll be in your arse. And I intend to suck your clit until you plead with me to stop. Will that do, do you think?”

I don’t waste so much as a moment wondering how he knows. He just does, always he does. “Thank you. That will be perfectly fine, Sir.”

Dan just smiles, winks at me, and returns his undivided attention to the road ahead.

We arrive at Black Combe maybe fifteen minutes before the meeting is due to start. Nathan is already here, and Eva. So is Freya and I gather Nick just got here a few minutes before we did. He had to return to Cumbria yesterday to deal with some sort of hitch in one of his businesses, but he’s returned in time for the meeting.

Dan and I stroll into the kitchen together, and by the eager expression on her face Freya is ready with her questions for me. She waits until Dan is distracted giving the car keys back to his brother, and no doubt explaining that he’s also liberated a tawse from among Nathan’s collection of pain play instruments, before she gives me a quick hug to say hello.

“Where have you been?”

I reply in sign, “Leeds.”

She shrugs, opens her hands to signify a question. “Why?”

Still using sign I offer more explanation, “Nathan’s apartment. You’d like it there.” I’m ready to provide more detail, but from the look of delighted astonishment on Freya’s face I suspect that may not be necessary. It would seem the fame of Nathan’s fuck-pad has preceded us here. With a self-satisfied smile, I take an empty chair at the table, lowering myself carefully into it. I’m relieved that Nathan has seen fit to purchase nicely upholstered furniture for his home rather than the minimalist rustic-style hard wood stuff found so often in country kitchens. So much more submissive-friendly. Even so, I couldn’t really describe myself as comfortable.

Dan takes a seat next to me, smirking. He passes me a folder from a pile in the middle of the table. I open it to find it’s an information pack setting out the details of the proposed wind farm. I leaf through its contents, noting that Freya has also picked up a folder and is sitting down to study it intently.