“You’re inside me?” she asked, and her tummy was so tense. “Really inside me?”
“I’m all the way fucking in,” I said, and twisted my hand just a little.
Blood and wetness and sweat and so much fucking love. All for me. The pinnacle of a whole fucking ocean of want.
I climbed up the bed to her and pressed my filthy mouth to her perfect lips, and then I kissed her. I kissed her with my fist all the way in deep, and she moaned for me. Moaned so fucking hard against my mouth.
And then she said it. She truly fucking said it.
“I like it…” she whispered. “It feels weird, and it’s sore… but I like it… I really like it…”
She groaned like a slut as I eased my hand free, her pussy so fucking sloppy as I slammed my cock straight back in.
My Faith was still such a sweet little youngster with a tight little cunt to grip me so nicely, and she milked me. She fucking milked me, her legs wrapping up around my waist even though she must have been aching.
“Take me, Mr Lindon,” she whispered, and her grin was divine, every bit as dirty as mine was. “Please, Mr Lindon, come inside me.”
I pressed my forehead to hers as I slammed in deep, and my eyes were burning so hard.
“And now it’s Miles,” I said, and made love to her.
I made fucking love to my princess right through the night.
And she made love to me.The morning was rising by the time we’d grabbed even a slight bit of dozing between the sheets. It was the slam of a car door outside that jolted me to waking, still half in my tux from the night before.
I dragged myself over to the window in time to see Colin storming back down the street, and there was a little purple car waiting on the driveway.
“What is it?” Faith asked, and I gave a sigh.
She joined me to stare outside, and the diamanté gems were still glittering in her hair.
She nodded softly, trying to disguise the pain, but I held her tight all the same, pressing gentle kisses to her head.
“We’ll fix it,” I promised her. “Honestly, Faith, we’ll make it work out.”
“I hope so,” she said, and held me tight right back.
There were a whole load of her clothes thrown loose into the back seat that we found when we stepped outside. Clothes and toiletries and her tangled phone charger.
Plus, there was a resignation letter crumpled up on the driver’s seat. An immediate absence from work littered with a whole host of expletives. I nodded to myself and took it well and truly on the chin, more than fully prepared to give him a decent set of wages to set him on his way.
“They really do want me out,” Faith whispered as she surveyed the carnage, but I shook my head.
“They’re angry. Angry and hurt. They need some time.”
I made us breakfast while she tried to digest it. She was quiet. Quiet but smiling.
The day was sad but happy both at once. We enjoyed the freedom of each other’s company without any impending time restriction on getting her home.
We relaxed through the day in robes post showering, and cleared space in my wardrobe for her clothes, and put her toiletries in the bathroom and charged her phone.
No messages were waiting from her parents. No messages came through all day, in fact, not even when she sent some over in their direction, and they wouldn’t pick up her calls.
It was Sunday morning by the time a knock came on the front door. I opened it with a serious face, not quite sure what to expect, and especially surprised to see Colin standing there, holding a cat basket with Miss Tiddles mewling on loop.
Faith rushed on through and put her hands up to her mouth, not quite sure whether to look at her dad or her feline friend.
I stepped aside to let him in and he came on through, his brows still heavy as he handed the basket to Faith and let her set it in the living room with the door closed up tight.
I gave him a nod and reached for my coat, letting him know that I’d leave him to it so he could talk openly to his daughter, but he shook his head and grabbed hold of my arm.
“It’s you I want to talk to,” he said, and his eyes were still heated but laced with a whole heap of questions.
So I nodded.
I nodded and so did Faith, and it was her who got her coat from the rack.
“Can I go and see Mum?” she asked, and her dad nodded.
“She’d like that,” he said, and I was glad of it. Really glad of it.
I kissed her head as she made her way out, but held back from much else so as not to rub the hurt in for Colin, instead focusing on offering him a coffee through in the kitchen where he held up a hand in no, thanks.