Making the Rules

Ashe Barker

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Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

www.StormyNightPublications.com

Barker, Ashe

Making the Rules

Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

Images by Shutterstock/George Rudy and 123RF/fiphoto

This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

Prologue

August 1998

When Ben Tyler was to recall that afternoon in the years that followed—and he did so frequently, unable to dismiss the dreadful images from his mind—he had no hesitation in placing that day by the river among the most harrowing, most awful events in his life. It was right up there with the day his parents told him they were getting a divorce, or the time his dog got run over by the man who drove the laundry service van.

It started out well enough. Luke, his best friend from school, had invited Ben to come along on a family picnic. The whole of the Havers clan was spending the day by the river in Mytholm Bridge, and Ben was welcome to join in the fun. He thought they probably felt sorry for him, a visitor from abroad and presumably lonely. The sentiment was misplaced, but Ben was glad enough of the invitation. The Haverses were a lively bunch and fun to be around.

The family outing consisted of Luke’s mom and dad, little sister, Grace, and his grandparents who were visiting from London. There was ice cream to be had, sticky buns, and Ben’s personal favourite, homemade chocolate brownies. Luke’s grandma made the most wonderful brownies in the entire world, and she always produced enough to feed an army. There was probably other stuff, too, but Ben couldn’t remember and in any case the brownies sold it to him.

It was an idyllic spot, the place chosen by Mrs. Havers to lay out their picnic, flat and grassy, the river just a few yards away. They ate, they drank, Ben made polite conversation with the grandparents who never stopped oohing and aahing at his American accent. Mrs. Havers fussed over the baby, a sweet enough little thing with a mop of dark blonde curls and a particular fondness for her brother’s friend. Grace was just mastering the art of walking upright, though her skills were haphazard at best. Whenever she could escape from her mother or grandparents she made a beeline for Ben in order to cling to his knee and gurgle up at him. Ben would, obviously, ignore her. He was thirteen, and didn’t play with toddlers.

After the food was finished, Ben and Luke wandered away from the rest to kick a football about. The older folk needed the loo and Mrs. Havers went with them. Mr. Havers remained with the picnic, or what was left of it, and the baby stayed with him to snooze in her pushchair. It was hot, a lazy, heavy day in the last week of the summer holidays. Soon, Ben and Luke would be back at school, grappling with algebra and the intricacies of conversational French, but for today, for now, they could charge about on the grass and pretend they were trialling for Manchester United.

Ben’s father worked for a telecoms company and the family had been in the UK for almost a year while he helped establish a new branch in the North West of England. Mrs. Tyler was English, though, and they were staying with her sister who ran a bookshop and tearoom in the town centre at Mytholm Bridge. The flat above his aunt’s shop was a bit cramped but still better than a hotel, Ben thought, or a rented house. And there was always plenty of cake.

Their real home was in New York, and Ben knew they’d be going back sometime, but he hoped not for a while yet. He liked England, and he enjoyed hanging out with Luke. And he adored football—or soccer as he always thought of it.

The ball hurtled past him and Ben spun around to race after it, determined to reach it before it bounced into the fast-flowing river a few yards away. He looked up to gauge the distance, and he saw the pushchair at the same time as Mrs. Havers’ ear-splitting scream tore through the sleepy gathering.

The pram was in the river, bobbing about, face down. Ben gaped in helpless, horrified dismay as the navy blue and white plastic buggy floated past him and started to skim away downstream. He didn’t think, never hesitated. Both he and Luke charged along the bank until they were ahead of it, then they leaped into the water and started to wade out. The current was strong, dragging at their legs, but the water was only chest deep. Fuelled by adrenalin, they were making headway. Mr. Havers joined them while other passers-by shouted encouragement from the bank. Mrs. Havers just screamed at them to save her baby.

Everything after that happened in slow motion. It seemed to Ben that it took ages to fight their way through the rushing stream to where the pushchair bobbed on the surface of the water. They did it, though. Between the three of them they managed to get within reach. Mr. Havers grabbed the handles and hauled the buggy upright.

It was empty. The safety harness dangled from the seat, loose and useless. Mrs. Havers’ screams subsided into an awful keening, which Ben found much more heart-rending. In mounting desperation Ben, Luke, and Mr. Havers splashed about, trying to find the toddler under the water.

There were sirens, flashing lights. The police came, lots of them, and an ambulance. Ben, Luke, and Mr. Havers were pulled from the swirling water to shiver and drip on the banks in helpless despair, huddled under blankets supplied by the ambulance crews. Their place in the water was taken by police divers. A motor launch arrived, started a slow, steady sweep of the stretch of river for several miles downstream.

The search continued all that evening until darkness finally halted the rescue efforts, but activity resumed at first light. Ben got up at dawn, not having slept a wink all night anyway, and returned to the river to help with the search. His parents joined in, as did most of the town. By now, though no one said it, Ben knew they were looking for a body.

Baby Grace was never found. The police were diligent. They tried, Ben had to hand it to them. It was a grim task, but they never flinched. They dragged that river, searched every clump of overgrown reeds, every secluded niche, any place at all that a small girl might end up.

Nothing. Not. A. Trace.

Chapter One

The overhead signs flashed. Fifty. Maximum speed limit. As she approached, that changed to forty.

Rain lashed the windscreen as Lily decelerated, the wipers skimming back and forth in a frantic rhythm as they fought to keep the screen clear. Her little Ford Fiesta was never built for these conditions. There was a leak at the top of the driver’s door and her tyres were probably not up to this sort of punishment either. She dreaded aquaplaning off the motorway and slowed to a cautious thirty-five miles per hour.

Through the Biblical deluge she was just able to make out the roadside sign that heralded this as the highest point on the M62, the motorway that traversed northern England from Liverpool to Hull. Her destination was halfway along, and the junction she needed was coming up soon.

There. One mile to go then she could get off this asphalt death trap. Lily hugged the nearside lane, looking for the markers that counted down to the exit.

Once off the motorway her route was hardly less arduous. The moorland road would have been bleak at the best of times but in this weather, it was, Lily concluded, the least hospitable place on the planet. She drove cautiously, glad at least that she was going downhill, so surely, soon, she would reach somewhere less exposed.

The small towns she passed through were deserted. She felt as though she had the world to herself, though in reality it was just that most people had the sense to stay indoors on the worst night of the year. It was only November, but the air had a distinctly wintry feel to it and Lily knew that had the temperature dropped a degree or two more she’d have been making this journey in the teeth of a blizzard.

Telling herself it could have been worse, she trundled the final few miles down into Mytholm Bridge, grateful to reach the small mill town in West Yorkshire before her windscreen wipers finally gave up the unequal struggle.

Lily found the Black Horse Inn easily enough, right on the main road, just after the railway bridge as per the directions she had downloaded from the internet. The country pub offered bed and breakfast accommodation, with a promise of cosy fires and hand-pulled real ales. Lily wasn’t too bothered about the ale, but a fire right now would be most welcome.

It was only just after nine in the evening when she pulled into the pub car park. The lights were on inside the building, but when she hurtled through the door, soaked from just the dash from her car, she found the lounge deserted.

“Hello…” Lily leaned over the polished wood bar to peer into the room beyond. “Anybody there?”

Footsteps in the deeper recesses of the old building sounded promising. Lily called out again. “Hi there. I have a reservation…”

“Coming. Won’t be a minute…” The woman’s voice sounded friendly enough. “There’s fresh coffee if you want to help yourself…”

Sure enough, a jug of filter coffee steamed on a hotplate behind the bar, a stack of white cups beside it. Lily didn’t need to be asked twice.

“Thank you,” she called to her disembodied hostess. “I will.”

She was halfway down her cup and contemplating a refill when the barmaid—or would that be landlady?—emerged carrying a crate of mixer drinks. The woman looked to be about thirty, attractive, and very capable. She dumped the crate on the floor behind the bar and rushed out to greet Lily.

“You’ll be Miss Jamison? I see you brought the weather with you.”

“Er, right. Yes. It’s awful out there.”

“I’m Gina, barmaid, licensee, and chief bottle washer.” The woman beamed and held out her hand. “I’ll help you bring your luggage in if you like.”

“Thank you.” Lily accepted the handshake. “I’ve brought rather a lot, I’m afraid. There are a couple of bags, my laptop…”

“Oh, I’d assumed you’d be up here for the walking. Mind, you could have picked a better week.”

Lily shook her head. “No. Not walking. I’m doing some research, actually.”

“Research? As in science?” Gina tilted her head critically. “You don’t look like a scientist.”

Lily glanced down at her unassuming hoodie and jeans, and the comfortable trainers she’d worn for the long drive up from Devon. “No, not a scientist, unless you count social sciences. I’m a sociology student, researching for a PhD.”

Gina looked impressed. “Oh, brainy then. You don’t look old enough to have even done your GCSEs, let alone all that university stuff.”

“I’m twenty-five.” Lily hoped not to sound too defensive, but she could do without a lot of comment on her youthful appearance if she was to convince the population of Mytholm Bridge that she was, indeed, a serious researcher.

Gina shrugged. “Good thing I know you or I’d be asking for proof of age before serving you a drink. Sociology, eh? What’s the PhD in?”

Lily paused, wondered how best to describe her project. “It’s a sort of forensic social work study. I’m looking into the impact of unexplained deaths on families and the wider community.”

Gina furrowed her brow. “Sounds a bit grim. What does that have to do with Mytholm Bridge? Deaths round here are easily explained—too many burgers and not enough exercise.”

“Well, there was one… It’s a quite a few years ago now…”

“Oh? Right, well, I’ve only been here a couple of years so it’ll be before my time then. You’ll have to tell me all about it, after we bring your stuff in and get you settled upstairs. I’ve a nice corner room ready for you with a view of the main street. Not that there’s much to see, though the market on a Friday is nice enough, I suppose. Have you finished that coffee?”

“What? Oh, yes.” Lily placed her empty cup on the bar.

“Come on then. Is your car unlocked?”

“No. I have the keys here…” Lily scurried to catch up with Gina as she marched outside, seemingly oblivious to the filthy weather. She waited by the rear of the car while Lily popped open the boot and started to haul out her suitcase and rucksack.

“I’ll take that.” Gina grasped the largest of the bags and set off back inside at a sprint. Lily hoisted the rucksack onto her back and followed.

* * *

The corner room with a view of the main street was pleasant enough. It would do nicely, thought Lily as she placed her collection of tops and leggings in the drawers provided. Her laptop graced the dressing table, and her toiletries were neatly lined up in the en-suite shower room. Lily sat on the end of the bed and peered at her reflection in the mirror.

She was still slightly startled by the shock of dark, straight hair with just a shimmer of plummy purple. The colour was new, and though expertly and expensively done at the best salon in Paignton, as far as Lily was concerned the jury was still out. Maybe she’d like it more once she was used to it. The cut was nice though, a sleek, stylish bob. That was definitely staying. The rest of her was, she thought, somewhat nondescript. Grey eyes, framed by dark-rimmed glasses, a small, straight nose, unremarkable mouth. She was of average height, perhaps a little on the skinny side, and her taste in clothes could most kindly be described as conservative. Dowdy might be a better, more honest description and certainly that would have been her mother’s verdict.

But Mrs. Jamison was dead, so no longer entitled to an opinion. Lily stifled a shudder at the memory of her overbearing, domineering mother who had passed away almost two years previously but who still cast a long shadow across her daughter’s life. Susanne Jamison had been a woman who knew what she wanted in life and went after it with a ruthless energy that often left both Lily and her father reeling. Susanne let nothing get in her way, and had unceasingly urged Lily to grow into an equally driven and demanding personality. She had failed, utterly.

Or had she? Lily was certainly doing her own thing now, regardless of what her mother might have had to say. Perhaps something had rubbed off after all, though the late and not-much-lamented Mrs. Jamison would be spinning in her grave if she knew what Lily was up to.

She got to her feet and pulled on the first T-shirt to come to hand. She had already changed into fresh, dry jeans and a pair of slip-on shoes. Although the Black Horse didn’t actually serve food in the evenings, Gina thought she could probably rustle up a bowl of soup and some bread, to save Lily from having to venture out in search of a takeaway. Lily was grateful for the offer and trotted happily back down to rejoin Gina in the still deserted bar.

“Tomato and basil all right?” Gina was already ladling the aromatic broth into a bowl.

“Yes. Lovely.” Lily eased herself onto a tall barstool and thanked Gina when she placed the bowl in front of her. “This is delicious,” she announced, three mouthfuls later.

“More coffee to help wash it down?”

Lily nodded and Gina poured two cups. The landlady busied herself arranging the mixer drinks while Lily finished her meal, then she offered a second helping.

“No, thank you.” Lily laid down her spoon. “That was wonderful though. And I was ready for it.”

“How long did it take you to drive up here? You’re from Devon, is that right?”

“Yes, a village just outside Paignton. It took about eight hours, but I did stop on the way. Then I ran into this foul weather and that slowed me down. Still, I’m here now.”

“That you are. So which university are you with, then?”

“University? Oh, right, the PhD.” Lily collected her thoughts. “Exeter.”

“Okay. So, what’s this about an unexplained death?”

Lily settled onto her stool and sipped her coffee. “It happened about twenty years ago. The family was called Havers.”

Gina offered a blank smile. “So, who died?”

“A little girl. A toddler. She fell in the river and drowned.”

“Oh, poor little mite. But how’s that unexplained? Seems pretty obvious to me.”

“She was assumed to have drowned though no one actually saw her fall in. Her pushchair was pulled out, empty. They never found the body.”

“It sounds awful, but surely there’s no chance of turning up any new information after all this time.”

“I suppose not,” agreed Lily, “but I was hoping to talk to the family, find out more about what actually happened, what they remember of little Grace before she disappeared. And what happened afterwards.”

“So you’ll be wanting to track down these Havers people, then?”

“Yes. I don’t suppose you know anyone by that name?”

Gina shook her head. “Can’t say I do. They could have left the area, though. How long did you say it’s been? Twenty years?”

“Almost that, yes.”

“You’ll be needing the electoral register, but you’ll have to go into Halifax for that. The council offices.”

“Right. I’ll go there tomorrow morning.” It seemed a reasonable place to start.

“Or you could ask old Mavis at the post office. She’s been here since God only knows how long, and if there’s anyone called Havers living in Mytholm Bridge she’ll know it.”

“Old Mavis? Right.” Lily added the postmistress to her mental list as she contemplated the rivulets of rain streaming down the windows. “While I’m at it, I could do with a couple of new tyres on my car. Is there a decent garage around here?”

“Certainly is. You need Murgatroyd’s, down behind the Asda supermarket. Mel and Harry’ll sort you out, and their prices are reasonable too. You can leave your car there and go into Halifax by train. The station’s just a five-minute walk.”

“Sounds like a plan.” She could drop off her car, hop on the train, check out the official records, and come back via the post office. “I’m going to be busy tomorrow so I think I’ll turn in now, if that’s all right.”

“Of course, love. Breakfast’s in here, any time after seven. Let me know if you need anything else.”

* * *

The rain had stopped by the time Lily emerged into the Black Horse car park the following morning, well fed and topped up with copious amounts of Gina’s coffee. She got in her car and started the engine. First stop, Murgatroyd’s garage.

She found the place easily enough, tucked away on the street behind the supermarket. The huge doors stood wide and a Renault was parked in front, its bonnet propped open. A pair of denim-clad buttocks dangled from the yawning jaws of the engine.

“Er, excuse me…” Lily got out and stood beside her car. “Do you have a minute?”

The mechanic bobbed up, ponytail swaying. As the figure turned to face her, Lily was surprised, and pleased, to see that it was a woman. She reached for a grimy rag and wiped the worst of the oil from her hands, though they were protected by latex gloves.

“Can I help you?” The mechanic offered a friendly, enquiring smile.

“I was wondering if someone could check my tyres. I think they need replacing.”

“What, all of them?” The mechanic grinned as she crouched beside Lily to inspect the closest wheel. “Let’s have a look, then.”

She let out a low whistle. Then shuffled along to check on the rear tyre. Next, she strolled around to the passenger side and repeated the exercise.

“You’re right. Both front tyres are below the legal limit, so you need those changing now. There’s maybe a few weeks left in the rear tyres, but they’re not great.”

“Could you do it? The two front ones, I mean?”

“Sure. Today?”

“If possible.”

“The replacement tyres will need ordering and they’ll be about forty quid each, plus ten pounds for the fitting, wheel balancing, and such like. A hundred should cover it easily.”

“Ordering? How long…?”

“Should be able to have them here by lunchtime. Can you leave the car with me until this afternoon?”

“No problem.” Lily handed over the keys, then provided her name and mobile phone number, which the mechanic jotted down in a grimy notebook. “Which is the quickest way to the station?”

“Straight back down the road into town, then turn right just after the bakery. It’s sign-posted.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you later, then.”

“You will. Have a nice day.”

* * *

The visit to the council offices was both productive and disappointing. Only one person by the name of Havers was listed, but Lily was able to discover his full name and address, and looking back through the records she could ascertain that Mr. Charles Havers had been resident at the same address in Mytholm Bridge for twenty-seven years. He had to be one of the people she was looking for. But what about the rest? The newspaper reports she’d studied mentioned a mother, grandparents, a brother. Where were they?

She caught the train back to Mytholm Bridge and headed to the post office, only to find it closed. She checked her watch; it wasn’t even three o’clock. However the sign on the door announced that this was Wednesday, half-day closing. The post office was locked and bolted until nine o’clock the next day.

Her plans a little dented but not irretrievably damaged, Lily made her way back up to Murgatroyd’s garage via the ATM where she collected a hundred pounds in cash. She arrived as the mechanic was putting the finishing touches to balancing her wheels. Ten minutes later, and ninety-seven pounds poorer, she drove out of the small forecourt on shiny, new front tyres. She headed for the suburban housing estate on the edge of the town where Charles Havers apparently still lived.

The house was easy enough to locate on a quiet cul-de-sac. The garden was neat, the paintwork fresh, and the drive swept clear of the leaves that were scattered everywhere along the street. Mr. Havers obviously looked after the place. From the newspaper reports she knew he’d been forty one at the time of his daughter’s death so he would be in his early sixties now. Was he retired, perhaps? Was he still in touch with his wife and son? What did he recall of that fateful day in nineteen ninety-eight?

Lily marched up to the door and knocked before she could think better of it. She waited, listening.

Nothing. She knocked again, louder. Still no response. She tried a third time, and even bent to call through the letterbox. “Mr. Havers? Charles? Are you there?”

“What do you want?”

Lily yelped, startled at the snappy tone behind her. She whirled around. A man in late middle age stood at the gate, a shopping bag dangling from each hand. He scowled at her.

“Do I know you?” he demanded. “What are you doing here?”

“Mr. Havers? I… I was looking for you.”

“What for?” He made no move to pass her to unlock the door.

“I wanted to talk to you. About Grace.”

“Who?”

“Grace. Your daughter.”

His eyes narrowed. “She’s dead. Drowned.”

“I know, but—”

“That’s all there is to it. Nothing more to say, nothing to talk about.”

Lily tried her most winning smile. “I was wondering if you might—”

“Get away from my house. You’ve no right coming here.” Now he did move forward, even elbowed Lily out of the way to reach his door. “Go on, bugger off.”

“Charles, wait. Please…”

“You’re either police or a reporter, and I’m not talking to either. I know nothing about what happened. I said so at the time. I told the police all I could and nothing’s changed since. Now get off my property.” He opened the door and stepped inside, then slammed it in her face.

Lily was left to stare at the gleaming white paintwork, the sound of the lock inside quelling any remaining hope that Charles Havers might even now relent and agree to talk to her. She turned and trudged back to her car, and dashed the moisture from her eyes.

So far, this was not going well.

Chapter Two

Mavis Robinson, the postmistress proved to be as garrulous and talkative as Charles Havers has been surly and rude. She peered at Lily through the glass barrier and declared herself delighted to be of assistance, always keen to help academic research.

The post office counter occupied a quiet spot at the rear of a shop that as far as Lily could tell sold just about everything. The facilities of this eclectic establishment even included a vending machine and a small picnic table, and Mavis encouraged Lily to get herself a drink and sit down, just while she dealt with the usual Thursday morning rush of people wanting to pay their gas bills and return mail order goods. She’d be with her in half an hour or so, and they could have a nice chat. Lily chose a latte and settled in to wait.

“So, you were asking about little Grace Havers?” Thirty minutes later Mavis lowered her matronly form into the seat opposite Lily and smiled encouragingly. “Such a tragedy. Poor little tot. She was never found, you know.”

“No, so I gather. You were here then? You remember what happened?” Lily dug in her bag for her notebook and a pen. “Do you mind telling me what you can recall?”

“Of course not. It’s common enough knowledge anyway. It was in all the papers at the time, and on the news. They searched the river for days but she must have been washed downstream. Such a tiny wee thing…” Mavis paused to gaze into the middle distance as though even now, after all these years, she could still visualise the little scrap of humanity floating down the river, never to be seen again. “It was awful. You’d never have imagined something like that could happen here, and to such a lovely family, as well.”

Lily glanced up sharply. “Can you tell me about the family? It was Mr. and Mrs. Havers, wasn’t it? And they had a son, an older boy as well as baby Grace?”

“Yes. Luke would have been about twelve, I think, or thirteen. He helped his father to get the pushchair out of the water, but the baby was gone.”

“What about Mrs. Havers? What was she like?”

“A lovely woman. She used to come in every week to pick up her family allowance and we often had a little chat. Mind, she never got over what happened. She was distraught over the loss of her baby, made herself ill with it.” Mavis paused to shake her head sadly. “They split up soon after, her and him. She left Mytholm Bridge, took Luke with her. I think she went to London, but I’m not sure. Sometimes people leave a forwarding address, but she didn’t. He stayed, though. Mr. Havers. He’s still here.”

“I know. I went to see him yesterday. He refused to talk to me.”

Mavis nodded. “Aye, he would. He was always a grumpy old sod and hasn’t improved with age. A bit of a recluse these days, by all accounts.”

“Do you know why they split up?”

Mavis shrugged. “She blamed him, I think. To be fair, pretty much everyone blamed him. He was supposed to be looking after the baby and he just dozed off, lay there snoring while the pram rolled into the river. Some people aren’t fit to be in charge of kids…”

“But if it was an accident—”

The postmistress’s features hardened. “Accidents like that don’t happen if people take proper care. He should have at least made sure the brakes were on.”

Lily considered this for a few moments, then ploughed on. “Okay, so the pram fell in the water, somehow, and Luke and his father managed to pull it out. Is that right?”

“Aye. And Ben, too, of course.”

“Ben?” Lily frowned. “Who was Ben?”

“Ben Tyler. Luke’s friend. They were in the same class at school that year. He was there with them and he waded into the river with Luke. It was the three of them that managed to reach the pram—not that it did any good. Ben’s auntie ran the bookshop and tearoom just down from here. You’ve probably seen it, though it’s all closed up now with a for sale sign outside. She died, back in August.”

“Died?”

“Yes. Barbara Durham. Ben’s Auntie Babs. Mind, she retired a couple of years before that so the shop’s been closed a while now. Pity, it was a decent little business…”

“Tell me about Ben Tyler. Does he still live round here?” Lily leaned forward, intent on pursuing this new and unexpected lead.

“What? Oh, no, he wasn’t local. Ben was from America. The family was staying here with his auntie while his dad did some work, but they went back to the U.S. that same year.”

She made no attempt to conceal her disappointment. “I don’t suppose you have an address for him in America?” It seemed unlikely, but Lily had to try. She had little enough to go on.

Mavis shook her head. “Babs was in touch, obviously. He was her favourite nephew—her only nephew, come to think. I suppose that’s why she left him the shop. It’s been on the market for a few weeks now…”

“Ben Tyler, he’s the one who’s selling the bookshop and tearoom, then?”

“Yes. And the flat above.”

“So, he must have an estate agent in this country. Perhaps they could get a message to him…” Lily was thinking aloud. If she could convince the agent acting for Ben Tyler to forward her contact details to their client, perhaps he might get in touch with her.

Mavis looked dubious. “Well, I expect so, though if you want to talk to young Ben it’d be easier to just knock on the door.”

“Knock on the door? What door?”

“The door to the flat. It’s round the back of the shop.” Mavis smiled at her encouragingly.

“The flat? I thought you said the property was empty and closed up.”

“I said the shop was closed. Babs left the property to young Ben, and he’s selling it, but until he can find a buyer he’s staying in the flat.”

“He’s here? In Mytholm Bridge? Now?”

“Aye, as far as I know. Unless he’s gone to Halifax or Leeds or somewhere. He does tend to come and go quite a bit…”

“But he’s living at the flat down the street?”

“No point in paying for a hotel, not when he has a perfectly decent place to stay.”

Lily hopped to her feet. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Mrs. Robinson. You’ve been very helpful. I’ll go and see Ben Tyler straight away.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea. Call back, let me know how you’ve gone on.” The postmistress got to her feet too. “I suppose I’d best get back behind the counter. Young Amy’s willing enough but she does tend to get a bit confused, what with the new rules for passport forms and such like…” Mavis sauntered back across the shop, pausing to straighten the display of greetings cards before slipping back into the cubicle reserved for official post office business.

Lily gathered up her things and hurried back out into the street. The empty tearoom was less than a minute’s walk along the main road. She stopped to peer through the plate glass front into the empty space beyond. The shop and café had been cleared, a blank canvas for the next owner. It was a pity, thought Lily. Mavis Robinson was right, this would have been a nice little living at one time, especially during the summer months when walkers and other visitors would come to the town to enjoy the local scenery. The shelving remained at the far end, evidence of the bookshop that had once graced that part of the premises. Lily could imagine settling at a comfortable table to enjoy a leisurely cup of hot tea and a scone, and perhaps browse the shelves for the family sagas she loved to read. Second-hand books, she decided, that would be the thing, perhaps with a local flavour. If this were her shop she would specialise in stories set in this atmospheric part of the country, or local authors. Perhaps local artists could display their work too…

What was she thinking? She wasn’t in the market to buy a shop, even if her inheritance from her mother had provided sufficient funds to consider such a thing. And certainly not here…

Lily made her way around the side of the shop to the small yard at the rear. The door to the upstairs flat was here, complete with doorbell. Lily pressed it, and listened to the shrill tone of the buzzer inside. She stood back and waited.

No answer. She rang again. After the third ring she accepted that there was no one at home so she pulled out her notepad and tore off a sheet.

Dear Mr. Tyler,

I’m sorry to bother you, but I wonder if you might be willing to help me with some research I’m conducting for a PhD thesis. My name is Lily Jamison and I’m researching the impact on families and communities of unexplained deaths. I am interested in an incident which took place here in Mytholm Bridge in 1998, the disappearance of Grace Havers. I understand you were a witness to the event.

Would you be prepared to meet with me to discuss what you recall of the accident? I am staying at the Black Horse, in the main square in the middle of town. Perhaps you could let me know when would be a convenient time to come back and talk to you.

Best regards,

Lily Jamison

As an afterthought she scrawled her mobile phone number beneath her name before folding the sheet into quarters and sliding it through the letterbox. Satisfied she had done all she could for now, Lily set off back to the Black Horse. The chalkboard in the bar promised a decent steak and ale pie, and she felt she’d earned it.

* * *

Lily considered returning to Charles Havers’ house and trying again to persuade him to talk to her, but decided against it. For now. She was not about to let the matter drop; the man had to talk to her. He simply had to. On reflection, perhaps it had been a mistake to just turn up at his home unannounced. She could phone him, try to make an appointment. Perhaps if she offered to pay him for an interview…

In the afternoon the rain stopped so Lily wandered down to the river to visit the spot where Grace’s mysterious disappearance actually occurred. She strolled along the bank, trying to visualise that scene. Today, on a bleak November afternoon, the place was deserted, but back then, twenty years ago, it would have been busy. According to the news reports that day had been unusually hot, one of the warmest days of the entire summer; lots of families had been here enjoying that sunny weekend in August. How could a baby’s pushchair just roll unnoticed into the river? It made no sense, and nothing Lily had seen in any of the reports at the time threw any light on it. Was she the only person who found that odd? There were dozens of witnesses, but no one saw anything until it was too late.

The grassy banking sloped gently down to the water. The River Calder was fast flowing at this point, grey and forbidding, though after the heavy rain of recent days that was to be expected. Back then, in 1998, the weather had been dry for weeks, the water level much lower. Today it looked treacherous, but then…? The water had not been especially deep that summer. She remembered the reports describing the rescuers wading out. She would ask Ben, if he contacted her.

Spots of rain started to fall. Lily pulled her hood up and set off back to the dry haven of her corner room at the Black Horse.

* * *

She didn’t feel she could impose on Gina again so Lily ventured out later that evening to find something to eat. She settled on a bright little pizzeria that served up a very enjoyable margherita for one, and she washed it down with Diet Pepsi. Pleasantly full, she made her way back to the pub, noting as she passed that the flat above the empty tearoom remained in darkness.

The bar at the Black Horse had managed to attract a handful of customers and the low hum of conversation greeted Lily as she entered. She made her way to the bar and asked Gina for a coffee, intending to take it up to her room.

“Coming right up.” Gina had her back to her as she poured the filter coffee. “One for your friend, too?”

“Friend?” Lily dug into her bag for her wallet. “What friend?”

“The hot American guy in the corner. He was asking for you, said you left him a note…”

“Oh!” Lily scanned the room but saw no one who might remotely be mistaken for the elusive Ben Tyler. “Where is he now, then?”

Gina placed the cup on the bar. “Cream? Hmm, perhaps he’s went to the toilet or nipped outside for a smoke. Or maybe he left.”

“How long ago…?”

“Not long. Ten minutes, maybe. Ah, there he is…”

Lily turned as the tall, athletic form emerged from the men’s room at the rear of the bar. The man approached, his confident gait oddly disconcerting to Lily though his smile was pleasant enough. More than pleasant. At over six feet tall and with dark blond hair that curled around the collar of his open-neck sports shirt, he was stunning, she decided. Simply stunning. His jaw was square and strong, giving him a look of a man who knew what he wanted and usually got it. His eyes were a deep blue, intelligent and assessing.

“Would you be Ms. Jamison, by any chance?” He lifted one eyebrow and nodded at Gina’s offer of coffee. “Yes, please. Black.”

“I… yes. I am. Lily Jamison. And you’d be Mr. Tyler?”

He extended his hand and Lily took it, shook briefly. “Ben,” he corrected her.

“Of course. And I’m Lily.”

“Good to meet you, Lily. I’m sorry I missed you earlier.”

“That’s all right. Thank you for taking the trouble to come find me. I wonder, would it be possible to make an appointment to meet with you?”

His brow furrowed briefly. “Meet with me? This all sounds very formal. Do you have an office somewhere?” He glanced about the bar as though Lily’s desk might be secreted in a corner.

“What? No, but—”

“Then no meeting.”

“But, Mr. Tyler, I—”

“Ben. And I prefer to talk over dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yes. You know the sort of thing, nice food, a bottle of decent wine, someone else to do the washing up.”

“But I’ve already eaten.”

“Me too, for this evening. Tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I’ll pick you up at eight. Thai food okay? There’s a really nice place I found, just down by the station.”

“Really, there’s no need for all that. I only wanted to ask you—”

“There’ll be plenty of time for you to tell me what it is you need to know. Until tomorrow, then.” He downed the remainder of his coffee, dropped a five pound note on the counter, and held out his hand again. Dumbly, Lily took it. He shook, offered her a swift smile, sent a nod in Gina’s direction, then he was gone.

Lily stared at the door as it closed behind him.

“Wow,” she murmured under her breath.

“Wow indeed,” agreed Gina, her elbows on the bar. “He’s nice. Loving that American accent.”

Chapter Three

Lily spent the next day browsing the local shops. It was market day and, as well as the many small stalls set up in the main square, Mytholm Bridge boasted an impressive selection of independent speciality boutiques and loads of places to get a coffee or a light lunch. She found the Thai restaurant on her travels and was relieved to note it didn’t look too up-market. It wasn’t that she couldn’t afford a new outfit, and she was sorely tempted by a blouse she spotted though the almost seventy pounds price tag cooled her enthusiasm somewhat. She reminded herself that she wasn’t going on a date with Ben Tyler, it was just a meal and an interview for her research. He might look like sex on legs, but he definitely didn’t fancy her so there would be no point splashing loads of cash on a new top.

She’d worked out that Ben Tyler must be about thirty-two now if he was in the same year as Luke Havers at school, and for all she knew he could be married with seven children waiting for him at home in the U.S. She needed to keep this real.

Even so, it was a nervous Lily who made her way down into the bar at the Black Horse at ten minutes to eight. Gina poured her a coffee before she even had time to ask.

“On the house. You look nice.”

“Thank you.” Lily straightened her clingy purple top and smoothed out her plain black skirt as she eased herself onto a tall barstool. She took a sip of her coffee then glanced at the clock.

“He’ll be here. He looked the punctual type.” Gina wiped her already gleaming bar with a towel.

“He looked the pushy type,” observed Lily. “I only want to talk to him. Half an hour, tops. There’s no need for all… this.” She gestured to her smart outfit. “I’ll probably be back here by nine, drinking your fine coffee.”

“I bet you’re not.” Gina pushed a small key across the bar. “If you’re still out after I close up you can let yourself in the back door with this.”

Lily doubted she’d need the key but thanked Gina and tucked it in her purse. When she glanced up again it was to see Ben Tyler striding across the bar.

He blessed both Lily and Gina with his dazzling smile. Lily couldn’t help smiling back at him. Her stomach joined in the fun, doing an odd little lurch and her pussy clenched in a manner she could only describe as demanding.

Jesus! What’s wrong with me?

“Hi. Nice to see you again. You look gorgeous.” He leaned in to brush a kiss over her cheek.

“Oh, er, yes. Thank you. You too.” Lily managed to stammer some sort of response, only after the words were out realising how ridiculous her comment had sounded. “I mean, not gorgeous, obviously…”

He chuckled. “I’m crushed, of course, but hopefully I’m presentable enough. I dug out a clean shirt and even ran the iron over my pants.”

“Well, I’m impressed,” offered Gina. “Do you have time for a drink before you go?”

“Of course, if you’d like one.” Ben tilted his head at Lily. “The table’s booked for eight-fifteen but I know the guy who owns the place. I can text him and tell him we’ll be there by half past.”

“No, no that’s all right. I’m ready.” Lily finished her coffee, slipped her jacket on and picked up her oversized bag containing her notebook. “We should be getting off.”

“Really, there’s no hurry.” Ben bathed her in that dazzling smile again. “We have all night.”

Lily avoided Gina’s knowing smirk as she accompanied Ben from the bar, her two-inch heeled ankle boots doing little to address the height imbalance between them.

“It’s not far,” he murmured as they crossed the car park, “just five minutes or so.”

“I know. I saw it earlier, when I was out shopping. It looks very nice.”

“It is,” confirmed Ben. “The chef there does a mean kan keaw wan kai. That’s green chicken curry to the rest of us.”

“Sounds fabulous,” agreed Lily. “It’s really very kind of you to agree to speak with me.”

“It’s kind of you to keep me company for the evening. I usually end up eating alone.”

“Me too.” Lily thought of her solitary pizza the previous evening. Without a doubt a Thai green curry whilst seated opposite this seriously attractive man was a much better prospect.

“Did you buy anything?”

“I beg your pardon?” Lily peered up at her companion.

“You said you went shopping earlier.”

“Oh, no. I just wandered round the market and browsed the shops. Mytholm Bridge is a lovely little town.”

“It is. I confess I’d forgotten how pleasant the place is.”

“Of course, it was twenty years ago that you were here before. Has it changed much?”

“It seems busier, though that could be my imagination, and the pedestrian areas weren’t there back then. And, of course, my aunt’s cake shop was a major attraction.”

“Ah, yes. Mrs. Robinson at the post office told me that your aunt died recently. I’m sorry. Were you close?”

“Mrs. Robinson? So that’s how you found me. I had wondered. No, my aunt and I weren’t especially close. I hadn’t seen Babs for about five years, since her last visit to the U.S. She and my mom were in regular contact though and I know she misses the weekly phone calls.”

“I gather you’re selling the shop and café. And the flat?”

“I am, though there’s been no real interest so far.”

“How long has it been on the market?”

“A couple of months.”

“Have you been here all that time?”

“No, I came to the UK three weeks ago when the real estate agent seemed to be getting nowhere. I’m considering doing some work on the place, modernising the flat, that sort of thing. Might help to make it more appealing to prospective buyers.”

“I thought the shop looked lovely.”

“Well, it certainly used to be when Babs ran it. She sold mainly her own homemade cakes and pots of specialty tea. Not my bag, well, not the tea, anyway. But she also did a frothy coffee that was out of this world. I spent hours in there, that summer.” He took Lily’s elbow as he turned a corner, guiding her along the side street leading to the station. Less than a minute later they stood outside the smart little establishment whose sign proclaimed it to be Rim Maena. “It means riverside,” explained Ben.

“It looks fabulous.” Lily inhaled the spicy aroma coming from within. “And smells even better.”

Ben opened the door and gestured her to precede him inside. At once a waiter dressed in a smart suit rushed forward to greet them, and in just moments Lily found herself relieved of her jacket and ensconced at a table by the bay window, able to view other diners as well as passers-by. Ben took the seat opposite and passed her a leather-bound menu.

The waiter still hovered and Ben spoke to him. “We’ll have some wine to start with, and a pitcher of sparkling water. Do you prefer red or white?” he asked Lily.

“White, please. And you must let me go halves on the meal.”

His response was a barely perceptible narrowing of his eyes, kingfisher blue, she noted, as Ben gave their drinks order to the waiter. Lily anticipated some protest later, when the bill arrived. Never mind, she would insist. After all, she barely knew this man and certainly wasn’t about to let him pay for her dinner.

They settled on a spicy shrimp soup and a plate of tiny fishcakes with a dipping sauce as their starter, followed by a main course of the Thai green curry, naturally, and a plate of fragrant chicken noodles. Lily accepted the offer of chopsticks to eat with, and the next thirty minutes or so were spent savouring the delicious Oriental flavours. It was only when she set her chopsticks down to reach for her wine that Lily remembered she was supposed to be quizzing Ben about the disappearance of baby Grace.

“Oh, I need to ask you—”

“Later. There’s plenty of time. Enjoy your food and we can talk after.”

“But…”

“Here, try this…” Ben selected a particularly succulent piece of chicken and offered it to her. Lily took it, and left her notebook where it was.

Lily declined the offer of a dessert, but welcomed the cup of cappuccino suggested by the eager waiter. As she sipped it, she dragged her mind back to the pressing business at hand.

“So, could you tell me what you remember from that day? You were at the picnic by the river, when the pram fell into the water…?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Ben stirred brown sugar into his coffee.

“Did you actually see the pram go into the river?”

He shook his head. “Luke and I were a few yards away, kicking a ball around. I spotted the pram floating, at the same time as Luke’s mom arrived back from the toilet. She screamed, that woke her husband, and he jumped into the river with me and Luke. The rest, as they say, is history.”

“Who else was there?”

“Apart from Luke and me, and his mom and dad? His grandparents were there, too.”

“Yes, but what about other people? Were there a lot of families having picnics, walking and the like?”

“I guess. It was pretty crowded.”

“Yet no one saw anything. That seems odd, don’t you think?”

Ben frowned. “Not really, People were concentrating on their own families, not taking any notice of anyone else. That’s just how folk are.”

“You said Mr. Havers was asleep. Did you see him sleeping?”

“No, but he said he was, though it could only have been for a few moments. He dozed off in the sun.”

“I went to see him, the day before yesterday. He refused to even speak to me.”

Ben shrugged. “It was a traumatic event. I can understand that he may prefer not to drag it all up again, not after all this time.”

“He’s the only member of the family still here, so I have to talk to him. I wonder, since you knew him back then, maybe you could convince him to meet with me.”

“I doubt it. I barely knew him and he probably won’t even remember me.”

“But, you were Luke’s friend. You went to their house…”

“Yes, but Luke’s dad was hardly ever there. I got to know his mom fairly well but I never saw much of Mr. Havers.”

Lily shook her head. “That’s no good. She’s gone. No one knows where she went.”

“How do you know that? Who have you asked?”

“Mrs. Robinson, at the post office.”

“Anyone else? Sharon Havers was popular, and bubbly. She must have had friends, though as I recall she did go pretty weird after Grace died.”

“I haven’t come across any, though I don’t really know where to start to ask. Did you know who her friends were?”

“Me? No, not really, it’s just an impression, I suppose. She always seemed to be chatting to people in the street or when she came to our school. She was very friendly, pleasant, good company. She and Luke were close, I think.”

“Charles Havers might know where she went. She’d have to keep in touch with him, right?”

“Not necessarily, and especially not if she held him responsible for the death of her baby.”

“Yes, Mrs. Robinson told me that Mrs. Havers blamed her husband.”

Ben nodded thoughtfully. “The police had their suspicions. Charles Havers was questioned, but there was no evidence that he was in some way responsible so they had to drop it. I guess his wife never accepted his explanation.”

“That’s so unfair… if he was innocent.”

Ben furrowed his brow. “This research, could you tell me a bit more about it?”

“What? What do you want to know?”

“Well, what’s it for? What will you do with the findings?”

“It’s for my PhD. I told you that, in the note I left for you.”

“Yes, and you also said that you were looking into the wider community and family impacts of these unexplained deaths, but the only member of the Havers family you seem interested in is Charles. I’ve told you I knew Sharon Havers better, and that she changed after the accident, but you ignored that. And you’ve not asked me one question about Luke and how he coped with the loss of his baby sister.”

Lily shifted in her seat. “Yes, I know, but I’m coming to that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Really.” Lily bristled, defensive. “So, tell me about Sharon Havers then.”

Ben took several moments, during which Lily wondered if he was going to tell her to go to hell. He didn’t, though.

“Like I said, she was friendly and outgoing, always welcomed me to their home, along with any of Luke’s friends. Their kitchen was often full of teenage boys. We’d descend on their refrigerator like a plague of locusts but Luke’s mom never complained. All that changed though.”

“Changed? How?”

“She stopped going out after Grace died, stopped talking to anyone. Stopped doing anything, pretty much. I used to still go round there but it wasn’t the same. The house was sad, depressed. And quiet. Too fucking quiet. It was as though the life was sucked out of all of them.”

“All of them?”

Ben nodded. “Yes. Luke, too. He took the loss of his sister hard. I mean, she was a sweet little thing, I suppose, but he never took much notice of her when she was alive. But he just withdrew into a sort of shell after she died. Our school even brought in a grief counsellor, though I don’t know if it made any difference. He refused to talk about it, about Grace, even to me.”

“That sounds… awful.”

Ben nodded. “It was. They were just a wreck, the pair of them. Charles Havers wasn’t much better, to be fair. He seemed to blank it all out, as though nothing had happened and Grace was never there. It was all very dysfunctional. As far as I know Luke was the only one who got any support, but like I say, it may not have helped. I remember there used to be a lot of shouting at their house where there never had been before. It was her, mainly, yelling at Charles but she mostly had to do it through the locked door of the spare bedroom. He used that room as a study and hardly ever came out of it. Luke and I were hailed as heroes for our efforts in trying to save Grace. Mr. Havers got none of the credit though to be fair he was in the water with us, and did his best the same as we did. As you know, he never managed to offer a satisfactory explanation for how the stroller ended up in the river and as far as the popular wisdom went he was caring for Grace at the time so it was his fault. Certainly, that was what Mrs. Havers seemed to think. Their marriage didn’t survive long after that.”

“So, they divorced?”

“Well, I assume so, eventually. Funny, I always assumed I would be the one to leave Mytholm Bridge, that it would be me waving goodbye to return to the U.S. when my father’s job here ended. But it was Luke and Mrs. Havers who piled their stuff into the back of a Ford Transit one Saturday in November. It can’t have been more than three months later. Luke told me when they were leaving and I turned up to wave them off.” He paused to allow himself a wry smile. “I even pretended to have something in my eye when the final goodbyes were said. Mr. Havers watched everything from the downstairs window of their house but he never came out.”

“He must have been heartbroken, his family disintegrating like that. And it was all so sudden, so quick…”

“Maybe, though whether it was sudden or quick I’m not so sure. Aunt Babs knew Sharon Havers, I think they went to the same yoga class or something. She insisted their marriage was rocky even before Grace. All I can say is that Charles Havers’ expression never wavered as he watched what was left of his family load their stuff and climb into the van. He looked sullen and bitter and very sorry for himself. I gather he’s wallowed in self-pity ever since.”

“Where did they go? Did Luke say?”

“He told me they were going to stay with his grandparents in London, at least at first.”

“Did you keep in touch?”

“Yes, for a while. I had other friends here, but I really missed Luke. He used to phone me from time to time, at the cake shop, but after a few months the calls stopped. I never had an address for him.”

Lily peered across the table at her companion. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I was so insensitive.”

“What?”

“You were there, you experienced the trauma too and now I’ve just made you relive it all. No wonder you look so shell-shocked.”

“Shell-shocked? Probably an overstatement, but yes, it was harrowing. During the rest of the time I was here I managed to pretty much avoid going back to that spot by the river and I completely lost my fondness for soccer. My dad’s job lasted a few more months, but when he said we were ready to go back to Brooklyn where we lived at the time I was glad enough to leave. This is the first time I’ve been back here since.”

“I hope I haven’t spoiled it for you, with all my questions.”

“No, you haven’t. And if I hadn’t wanted to talk to you I could have just ignored your note. I’m here because I want to be.”

“Even so, I can’t ask you for any more help.”

“Did you want to?”

Lily hesitated, then, “Yes. I was going to ask if you’d come to the river with me, show me the exact spot. But I won’t. It’s too much.”

Ben regarded her for several moments. “I could do that.”

“No, really, I—”

“Back then, I was just thirteen and it was all very recent. Time makes a difference, creates distance.”

“Does it? Do you suppose everyone would feel the same way?”

Ben shrugged. “Well, not Charles Havers, apparently, if that was what you were wondering. People are all different. I’m just saying how it looks to me. So, do you want to go tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“The river?”

“Oh, yes. Tomorrow would be wonderful. Are you free in the morning?”

“Certainly am.” Ben glanced at his watch. “It’s not ten o’clock yet. Say, how about we go back to that pub where you’re staying and see if they can find us a nice bottle of red?”

Lily hesitated. The meal had been one thing, she could convince herself it was not that far removed from a business discussion, a research interview. A secluded corner table in Gina’s bar and a bottle of fine red wine, shared with the most handsome and sexy man she could ever recall encountering, now that was another matter entirely.

“I’m not sure…”

“I daresay the Black Horse keeps an excellent cellar. One way to find out.” He got to his feet, which brought the waiter scurrying over with their bill. Lily was sure he had deliberately pretended to misunderstand her meaning but had no time to challenge that as Ben handed over his credit card.

“Let me pay my half—”

“No need. I invited you.”

“I know, but…” The waiter was already making for the counter as Lily reached into her bag for her wallet.

Ben laid a hand on her arm. “Really, it’s fine. You can pay next time if you feel so strongly about it. Or better still, you buy the wine back at the pub.”

She might have spotted the trap swinging shut had she been even slightly less affected by his touch. Instead of rushing after the waiter and insisting that he take her card too, Lily found herself dealing with her clenching pussy and seriously damp knickers. Worse, there was a definite tingle that seemed to start where his fingers caressed her forearm and rippled up to her shoulder, then, by some mysterious route found her nipples and stiffened them into hard little pebbles.

Jesus Christ on a donkey!

Lily could only mutter her gratitude to the waiter who brought her jacket, then she stumbled out into the dark street beside Ben Tyler.

Chapter Four

Ben had expected her to say no to the after-dinner drinks back at the pub. He was geared up, ready to exert all the persuasive charm he could muster in order to overwhelm her protests and excuses, but in the end that wasn’t necessary. He’d simply touched her and she’d caved in.

Interesting.

He didn’t buy the research story, not for one moment. He’d been tempted to blast a few more holes in it, perhaps by quizzing her a little more on the technical aspects of her supposed project. Would she be basing her conclusions on primary or secondary research, for example, or had she compiled any baseline data to compare her findings against? He had a strong hunch the seriously pretty and unconsciously sensual Lily Jamison would have no clue what he was talking about, which would rather blow her cover as a PhD research student out of the water. He hadn’t the heart though. He liked her.

Scratch that, he fancied the pants off her, pretty much literally if he had his way.

So, if not a genuine research student, what was her interest in the tragic death of a toddler twenty years previously? Ben couldn’t quite see Lily as a journalist, though the story was interesting enough, he supposed. A private detective seemed equally unlikely. Apart from anything else, the only person he could think of with a reason to hire such an investigator would be Charles Havers in a bid to prove his innocence once and for all, but he seemingly wanted nothing to do with any of this. Other interested parties might include Luke or his mother, but Lily appeared not to be in contact with them.

Ben turned all this over in his head as they made their way slowly through the streets of Mytholm Bridge toward the Black Horse. He was jolted out of his musings when Lily spoke to him.

“What? Sorry, I was miles away…”

“I asked if you have family back in the U.S. You come from Seattle, don’t you?”

“I went to college in Seattle but I live in Chicago now.”

“And your family?”

“My mom still lives in Brooklyn, though she and my dad separated.”

“Oh. What about…?” She paused, then dived in. “Do you have a wife? Children?”

“No, neither.”

“What did you study in college?”

She was persistent, he had to grant her that. Ben wasn’t used to talking much about himself but since she was interested…

“Electronics and computer science. Somewhere along the way I discovered a taste for adventure so when I finished college I joined the Chicago police department.”

“Oh. You’re a police officer.” That appeared to surprise her.

“I was, for a while, I did six years in CPD, in the homicide team mostly.”

“Why did you leave? Was it too dangerous?”

“It was dangerous, but lots of jobs are. That wasn’t the reason. I had a better offer and decided it was time to move on.”

“A better offer?”

“Enough about me. Tell me about you.”

“Me? What do you want to know?”

“Do you have family?”

“There’s just my dad. He’s in Devon.”

“Ah, yes, a beautiful part of the country, or so I’m told.”

“It is, though here’s nice too. Stunning scenery.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Ben stole a glance at the delicate profile of the slender companion at his side and considered the scenery closer to hand more than merely stunning. What might be the chances of spending the night in her bed, he wondered. Slim to none, probably, but a man couldn’t be blamed for trying.

His hunch about the wine cellar at the Black Horse turned out to be dead right. The licensee, who introduced herself as Gina, produced a very pleasant Malbec and directed them to a quiet table in the corner. Ben stretched out on the comfortable sofa opposite the one occupied by Lily and regarded her carefully.

Her hair was an interesting colour. Dead straight, he’d probably describe it as a sort of brunette with flashes of purple to complement that seriously sexy little top she’d poured herself into, and it was cut in a sassy style. The whole arrangement looked sleek and perfect. Ben itched to tangle his fingers in it and muss her up a bit. No, a lot. He wondered if she’d squeal if he pulled her hair, or would she just melt?

Her features were delicate, her mouth wide and lips full. She had kissable lips, he decided, and a gloriously fuckable mouth. Would she allow him to sample it? If not now, tonight, then soon?

Her most expressive feature was her eyes. They were large, a dark, smoky grey framed by long, thick lashes. They were eyes to drown in, and hinted of a strength of purpose, of passion that she preferred to keep concealed. Ben prided himself on his ability to read women, submissive women in particular. They exuded clues left, right, and centre and an attentive dom could pick up on their responses with ease. Lily Jamison was a natural submissive, it was obvious to him in the way she dropped her gaze or hitched her breath when she was nervous or uncertain. Knowing this, he was tempted to press her on the real reason behind her questions but decided to let that go for now. The truth would come out, it always did in relationships such as theirs.

Or such as theirs would become, if he had his way.

Ben could never recall a time he hadn’t craved the surrender, the submission of a willing woman who would turn her body over to him to do with her as he liked. He was a dom, it was there, in his DNA, swirling around that damn double helix. Vanilla relationships left him cold, whereas the spice of a D/s cocktail was heady and intoxicating and utterly irresistible with the right partner. The woman seated opposite, her long legs crossed primly at the knee, intrigued and attracted him in a way no one had, not for years. She would respond, he knew it.

Christ, I hope so.

“More wine?” At her slight nod he topped up her glass, then his own. “So, how long are you intending to stay in Mytholm Bridge?”

“My room here’s booked until tomorrow. I’m supposed to check out on Sunday morning, but I had hoped to be able to speak to Charles Havers, or someone else from the family before I leave. I suppose I could ask Gina if I could stay on a day or two longer.”

So, they were back to Charles fucking Havers again. Ben was pleased she might be considering extending her stay, but at a loss as to why she insisted on flogging this particular dead horse.

“And if he still refuses to cooperate?” He regarded her closely across the rim of his wineglass.

“I’ll camp out in his garden until he agrees to talk.” She tilted her chin at him, a spark of defiant determination glinting in those slate-grey eyes. That was a look that would get her spanked every day of the week if she were his.

He couldn’t resist grinning at her. “Do that and he’ll probably call the police.”

“Why? Why would he do that?”

Ben was taken aback at the near-stricken expression on her face. One moment they were discussing a difficult research subject, the next the problem seemed to have become almost personal.

“I’m guessing he’s still grieving,” Ben replied gently. “He lost his baby daughter, then the rest of his family. Add to that the gossip and blame he endured. Cut the guy some slack, Lily.”

“No! I can’t. He has to talk to me.” Her voice shook. She seemed close to tears.

“Why? Why is it so important?” He leaned in, caught her gaze and held it. “Tell me, Lily.”

She shifted in her seat and attempted to lower her eyes, Ben was having none of it. He was onto something here, he knew it. Every dom instinct in his body screamed it. He cupped her chin in his hand and tipped her face back up to meet his gaze again. Yes, he was right. She was fighting back tears and it looked like she was losing that battle.

“What’s so important about getting Charles Havers to talk to you?” he pressed her.

She didn’t answer, just peered at him through her unshed tears for a few moments, the silence stretching between them.

“Lily…?” he prompted.

She jerked her chin from his hand and shuffled back in her seat, swiping at her face with her fingers. “It’s nothing, really. I just have to make progress. I have a deadline…”

“What deadline?”

“Soon.” She twisted her fingers in her lap then, as though suddenly becoming conscious that he was watching her, she picked up a cardboard mat from the table and started to fiddle with that. In moments the mat was shredded, the layers of paper scattered on the table between them.

Ben watched with interest. “I’d say your deadline was causing you some stress. Maybe you should renegotiate it, talk to your university…”

“I can’t,” she blurted. “Anyway, it’s not that. I just… I’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep. I need to relax, unwind a bit. That’s all.”

Ben couldn’t conceal his grin. “I know a sure-fire way to help you unwind and relax.”

Lily nudged the base of her almost empty wineglass. “More of this? I don’t think so.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest opening another bottle. I had a more… physical… solution in mind.”

“Physical? You mean a massage? Or yoga? I doubt either of those would solve my problems.”

“You could always just tell me about your problems. I might be able to help.”

“I doubt it.”

He shook his head. “No? Okay then, I was going to offer you a spanking. A good, honest, bare-bottom spanking never fails to clear the head and relieve pent-up anxiety.”

She gaped at him. Her jaw dropped. At least one of his questions was answered—she was not in the lifestyle and by the expression on her face had never so much as considered it.

She would. He was certain of it.

“A spanking? Are you mad?” She glared at him, tears forgotten now. Her eyes were wide, startled.

“Mad as in angry? Or as in crazy? Neither.” He leaned back in his seat. “If it’s not your thing then fine, no hard feelings. But maybe you shouldn’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

“Why on earth would I want to try it? I’m a grown woman, not a child. And you… you’re a stranger. I hardly know you. I couldn’t…”

Ben shrugged, deliberately keeping this casual. “I’ve spanked women I knew for less time than I’ve known you. Sometimes that’s better, less… personal.”

“How could a spanking not be personal?” she hissed. “Especially a bare… bare…” She appeared unable to articulate the words.

“Fair enough. It was just an offer.” He took a laid-back sip of his wine. “So, about Charles Havers. If it means so much to you I’ll talk to him on the phone. No guarantees, he may not even remember me, but I’ll try. Okay?”

“What?” She appeared utterly confused. Just as she should be.

“Charles Havers. I will try to talk to him if you like.”

“Oh, right. Thank you.” She was making an effort to recover, he had to grant her that. “I’d appreciate that. Really.”

She looked so fucking grateful that Ben almost regretted his offer. He didn’t expect Charles Havers to be any more receptive to an approach from him, but he was committed now and he would damned well give it his best shot. He couldn’t properly account for his desire to help her, but it was there and it was genuine. He had other desires too, and having planted the seeds, now was the time to do a bit more work on those.

“You know, you look very fuckable sitting over there.”

She went rigid, stared at him as though he had suddenly sprouted an additional head. “I… I beg your pardon.”

“I think you heard me, Lily, but to make it perfectly clear, I’d be delighted to spank you, and I want to fuck you too. In truth, there’s quite a lot more I’d love to do to you as well, but I thought I’d start with the basics.”

“But you can’t. I mean… like I said, you don’t even know me. And I don’t know you.”

He shrugged and shook his head. “And like I said, I know you well enough, but if there’s more you need to know about me then fire away with your questions.”

“It’s not that, and you know it. We only just met…”

“We met yesterday, had dinner this evening. I enjoyed your company and I think you liked being with me.”

“I did. Do. But—”

“You’ll have to forgive me if I seem to be rushing, but as you’ll only be here for a few more days at best I wanted to put my cards on the table, so to speak.”

She appeared somewhat mollified by that, but her posture remained rigid, her gaze wide-eyed and stunned. “I understand that, but even so…”

“If you’re not interested, and never will be, you have only to say so and we’ll move on to another subject.”

“Not interested? Why would I not be interested? I expect any woman with a pulse would be interested, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to hop into bed with you at the first time of asking, even less let you spank me.”

“How many times would you require me to ask?”

“What?”

“How many times would I need to ask to get you to agree to hop into bed with me?”

“Now you’re twisting my words. I didn’t mean that.”

“My apologies. Allow me to phrase my question differently then. What would I have to do or say, Lily, to convince you to invite me up to your room? If not tonight, then soon.”

“I can’t. Gina would never stand for that.”

Ben grinned. “Let me deal with Gina. And you didn’t answer my question. What would I need to do or say?”

“I… I don’t know. No one has ever… I mean, I just don’t do this sort of thing.”

“What sort of thing? Fuck guys you have dinner with?”

Her complexion pinkened. Ben found that delightful. “Well, yes. It’s not even as though it was a date or anything. It was a business meeting.”

“It didn’t seem like a business meeting to me, and I did specifically ask you about your office yesterday. A meeting would have been in an office. Dinner and a fine bottle of red, now that’s something a lot more sociable.”

Lily gazed at him, the grey of her eyes deepening to a near-black. When she spoke, it was in a whisper. “Just say please.”

“Lily…?”

“You asked what you need to do or say. Just say please.”

Ben would have answered at once, but she forestalled him with a lift of her hand before rushing on.

“What I mean is, I wouldn’t want you to think you could just take it for granted, take me for granted. I’m very… choosy who I sleep with.”

Ben placed his now empty wineglass on the low table between them and reached for the one in Lily’s hand. He took it from her fingers and placed it beside his own, then took her hand in his. “Please.”

Lily held his gaze and nodded. “Yes. Maybe. I do like you, and… I like you a lot. But not tonight. It’s too soon.”

“Okay, I get that.”

“You don’t mind?”

“No. I can wait.” He picked up the bottle with the remainder of their wine in the bottom. “Shall we finish this?”

She shook her head. “I’ve had enough, thank you. I think… I think I’ll just go up now.”

Ben smiled and got to his feet. “I’ll leave you to it then. Thank you for an enjoyable evening, Lily. Until tomorrow…” He laid his hands on her shoulders and leaned in to kiss her cheek. It was a chaste, perfectly polite kiss but she flushed bright crimson. “And if you do find yourself having trouble relaxing, my offer still stands. Please feel free to call me. I have work to do so I’ll be up most of the night.”

“I… I don’t have your number.”

Ah.

He raised one eyebrow then drew his cell phone from his pocket and hit a number in his speed dial. Moments later came an answering buzz from the depths of her bag. “You do now.” He smiled at her again “See you at ten.”

“Ten?”

“Yes, I’ll call round for you. To go to the river.”

“Ah, yes. The river. Yes, ten o’clock will be fine.”

Ben turned to go. She was still rooted to the spot when he reached the door and glanced back. He lifted his hand in a silent gesture. She didn’t respond but he wasn’t surprised. He’d given her a lot to think about.

* * *

Lily rolled from her bed and wandered across to the bathroom. She came back out, still drying her hands and considered boiling the hotel kettle for a cup of tea. It was too late for coffee, and she certainly didn’t need anything else keeping her awake. She glanced at her phone on the dressing table to check the time. Two seventeen, and she was no nearer to getting any sleep than she had been when she said goodbye to Ben in the bar downstairs.

She had come up to her room as soon as he left, determined to put all the nonsense he had spouted right out of her head.

He wanted to sleep with her. Well, fine, maybe, eventually. She was honest enough with herself to admit that she’d quite like that. Ben Tyler was sexy enough to melt even the iciest panties, and hers were hardly flameproof. It had just been a while since she last got laid, that was all, and she needed a bit of time to get used to the idea.

What’s more, she could do without the distraction. She was in Mytholm Bridge to discover what she could about Grace Havers and she needed to concentrate on that, not amuse herself in horizontal gymnastics with some sexy American.

As for the rest? No way. Not in this lifetime.

She flung herself back onto the bed and pulled her laptop toward her. The screen lit up when she moved the machine to show a news cutting from the Halifax Courier, dated September nineteen ninety-eight. It described the continuing search for the missing toddler, and carried an interview with the distraught mother. Sharon Havers was pictured, her features grainy and probably distorted by her grief. Lily stared at the image for several minutes before dragging the cursor across the screen to close down the computer.

On impulse she brought up the Google screen instead, and typed in ‘spanking.’

It was after three in the morning when she finally slammed the laptop shut, and she was no closer to sleep than she had been all night. If anything, the sensual and erotic images now flooding her consciousness had made matters worse. She had viewed video after video of women being spanked and bloody loving it. The array of possible implements was dizzying, the range of positions pretty extensive too.

She was confused, utterly bewildered. What could possibly be the attraction for any woman in baring her bottom and offering it up to be spanked by some man? And more to the point, why did her stomach churn and her pussy clench, and why were her knickers disgracefully damp just at the thought of it?

Lily sat up. She had two choices, it seemed to her. She could either put the kettle on and settle for sitting up reading all night, or she could do something quite mad for once and take Ben Tyler up on his incredible, ridiculous offer. If anyone could answer her questions, he could.

She stood by the window, the curtain pulled back to reveal the pitch dark of the street below. The kettle hissed quietly as it heated up. A cup of tea would help to soothe her frazzled nerves.

Fuck that. She abandoned her post by the window and grabbed her coat. She had research to conduct, and it had just taken a new and very exciting turn.

Lily was glad of the spare key that Gina had pressed on her the evening before. She used it to let herself out of the rear door of the Black Horse and carefully locked up again behind her. She skirted the outside of the pub and decided against using her car. It was, after all, less than a five-minute walk to Ben Tyler’s flat. She pulled up her hood and set off along the deserted main street at a brisk march.

There was a light on in one of the windows above the shop. She stopped on the opposite side of the road to study the building and her courage threatened to fail her. Or maybe good sense was on the verge of prevailing. She could scuttle back to the pub; no one need ever know she’d even been out.

She would know. And she would wonder. Always wonder. Her dad often told her that the greatest regrets in her life would probably be the things she didn’t do, not the things she did. Richard Jamison had always encouraged her to try new things, to take risks. Well, this would be a risk, sure enough, and most definitely new to her. It might not be exactly what her dad had in mind, but what the hell? She pulled her phone from her pocket and hit the number Ben had programmed in.

He answered after two rings. “Lily? Nice to hear from you.”

“Did you mean it? About calling you at any time?”

“Of course. Do you want to come over?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll come and meet you at the pub.”

“No need. I’m here. Outside.”

“What?” The blind in the lit window shot open to reveal Ben, his phone pressed to his ear, peering out into the blackness.

“I’m across the road. In front of the pharmacy.” She stepped forward, lifted a hand to wave.

He glared straight at her. “What the fuck, Lily? You should have called me. I’d have come to pick you up.”

“There was no need. I—”

“There was every need.” The figure in the window turned and disappeared into the room. “Wait there, I’m on my way down.”

Lily set off across the empty road. She had barely reached the opposite pavement before Ben came into sight, sprinting up the alley way leading from the rear of the café. He rushed up to her and grabbed her in a hug.

“Are you all right? When I said ‘call me’ I meant from your room, not from the street outside. Anything could have happened to you, wandering around on your own at this time.”

“What are you talking about?” Lily managed to wriggle free, at least enough to speak. “This is Mytholm Bridge, not downtown Chicago.”

“I don’t fucking care. It’s not safe.”

“And coming here so that you can spank me is? You have rather twisted values, Ben.”

“And you have no idea the trouble you’re storing up for yourself with all this backtalk.” He grabbed her hand. “Come inside.”

Lily followed him around to the rear of the café and through the door leading to the flat. Ben halted only long enough to lock the door behind them, then marched up the stairs. Lily had to trot to keep up with him.

He didn’t pause at the top of the stairs, simply led her along the corridor that ran down the centre of the flat toward the door at the end. They passed only one open door, the lighted room that Lily assumed was where she had seen him framed in the window. Ben flung the final door open and tugged Lily inside.

It was a bedroom. His bedroom, if the male clothing stacked on a buffet next to the wardrobe was any indication.

What had she done? What on earth had gotten into her?

Chapter Five

Ben released his grip on her hand. Lily closed the door to the room behind her and leaned back on it, barely able to believe what she was doing. She’d actually come here, in the middle of the night, to the home of a man, a man near enough a total stranger, to ask him to spank her.

What if he was some sort of deranged madman? A sadist? A pervert? All of the above? She knew next to nothing about Ben Tyler, yet here she was, in his bedroom of all places. And what if he wasn’t content to stop at just a spanking? She wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. She shouldn’t be here, she really shouldn’t.

The sudden rush of good sense had barely crystallised in her head before Ben caught her by the shoulders. He whirled her around so her back was pressed against the door and he brought his mouth down across hers in a kiss that quite literally stole her breath away. Stunned momentarily, Lily could only part her lips in response to his demanding pressure, and reeled as he darted his tongue between her teeth. He curled it around hers in a sensuous dance, and her knees buckled.

Ben appeared to sense her imminent collapse and tightened his hold, inserting his knee between her legs to hold her upright. Lily looped her hands together behind his neck and simply hung on.

He broke the kiss after a few moments, and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Holy fuck, I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you yesterday.”

“Me too,” she whispered, only now allowing that desire to surface and take form. “I wanted… I mean, I thought…”

“I know.”

She should have bristled at his response, his confident certainty. Instead, she welcomed it, wanted to drown in it. Craved more of it.

“Are we, I mean, should we… Do you want me to take my clothes off?” He had said bare bottom, but she was uncertain just how much nudity that actually meant.

“Well, that’d be nice but let’s just check we’re on the same page here.” He lifted his head and took her chin in his palm, angling her face up so she had to meet his gaze. “You’re here because you want to try a spanking. Am I right, Lily?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I was wondering… I mean, it might… I watched some videos.”

“Videos?” He grinned at her. “I can imagine. And now you want to try it for yourself. You’re curious, right?”

“I suppose so. It’s just… I can’t really explain but I wanted to know how it would feel. How it would make me feel. You said it would relieve stress…”

“So curious that you come out, on your own, in the middle of the night?” He lifted one dark blond eyebrow. “Jesus Christ, girl, you’ve fucking earned a spanking for that alone. If you were my submissive you’d get what you deserve and not sit down for a week.”

“What are you talking about?” A prickle of unease snaked down Lily’s spine. “I thought… I mean, it looked like it might be fun, that it might even help me. I don’t want you to hurt me. What do you mean, ‘your submissive’?”

He stepped back. “You’re right. We are here to have fun and to give you your first taste of a spanking. It will hurt, but I think you already know that. It’s a nice sort of hurting though and we can stop whenever you like. That’s a fun spanking. For a moment there I was talking about something entirely different and definitely not why we’re here. I apologise if I frightened you, but you need to know I care about you and you scared me shitless just then. Promise me you won’t go wandering about on your own in the middle of the night.”

“But I was perfectly safe.”

“Just promise me, please. Humour me. I’m from New York.”

“Okay. I promise.”

He kissed her again. “Good girl. Now, you can get undressed if you like.”

She hesitated. This was all moving so fast. “Can’t I just, you know, lower my jeans a bit? Just enough for you to… to…”

“You can, if that’s what you prefer.”

“I think I might. Is that all right?”

“Of course.” He stepped back from her and went to sit on the edge of his bed, then beckoned her to him using the fingers of both hands. “Get over here, Miss Jamison. And drop those pants.”

Lily’s face burned crimson as she obeyed. She moved to stand right beside him, then reached for the button on her jeans.

“You might be more comfortable without the jacket on. It could get a little warm in here.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” She shrugged the padded coat off and allowed him to fling it behind him onto the bed.

“Now the jeans…” He pointed to her zipper. “And your underwear. To your knees will be fine.”

Maybe stripping completely would have been easier, less intimate. It was too late now, decided Lily. She was committed, and determined to go through with this. She unfastened her jeans, lowered the zip, and shoved the denim down her thighs. Her white lace panties remained in place, for all the protection they might offer. Ben merely lifted that expressive eyebrow again and said nothing. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband and pushed them down too.

“Lift up your shirt, please.”

His tone was low, but stern. Lily felt impelled to obey. She raised the garment, fully aware that now she revealed her neatly bare mound and her pussy to his attentive gaze. He took his time before looking up to meet her eyes again.

“Very pretty. Now, I think you can imagine the position…?” He patted his lap. “Just make yourself comfortable.”

Comfortable? Lily felt little short of mortified as she draped her body across his thighs, her head hanging down close to his shoes. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands so settled for grasping his ankle with one and putting the other on the carpeted floor.

“Edge yourself forward a bit more. Lift your bottom up for me.”

Oh. God.

Lily did as she was told, shuffling about as he helped to arrange her exactly to his liking.

“Yeah, that’ll do.” Ben rested his hand on her upturned buttocks and started to stroke slow, steady circles. “You know, you have the most delectable ass. A butt made for spanking.”

Lily gulped. Did he expect her to respond?

“Tell me when you’re ready.” As he spoke to her he continued his sensuous caress and Lily found herself writhing in unexpected pleasure. Maybe there was something in this stress-relieving nonsense after all.

“Lily?” he prompted.

“Oh, yes, I’m ready.” She tightened her grip on his ankle.

Ben laid an arm across her back and hugged her closer to him, and he caught her legs under one of his. Suddenly, Lily realised she was immobilised, held in place. She should have been scared but she wasn’t. She felt safe, secure. He wouldn’t let her fall.

The first few slaps were something of an anti-climax. Lily had imagined this whole experience would be a lot more painful, cathartic even, definitely enough to set her squealing and wriggling like many of the women in the videos she watched earlier. It wasn’t anything like that. Ben used his hand, and he peppered her buttocks with rapid spanks, but they weren’t heavy and barely registered as painful. Lily would describe the sensation as mildly uncomfortable, and something of a disappointment if she was honest.

“Okay, Ben. Thank you, but I think… ow!”

“You were saying?” He leaned down to look at her as he dropped another much harder spank onto her left buttock to match the one he just landed on her right.

“Uh… nothing,” grunted Lily as the spanking ramped up a gear or seven. The slaps still rained down thick and fast, but they were heavier now, each one sending a burst of heat across her tenderised skin. She started to wriggle in earnest, and squealed as the pain built. Her bottom was on fire. The sensation was intense and growing more so by the second. It was incredible, and terrible, and indescribably erotic.

Her exposed pussy leaked. Her clit throbbed. Lily experienced a mad urge to spread her legs and beg him to touch her, to do anything to assuage the mounting desperation. The more her bottom sizzled under his relentless hand, the more she ached to come.

“Please,” she sobbed, between spanks. She was panting now, breathless, gulping for air.

The spanking slowed, then ceased. “Have you had enough, Lily? You’ve only to say when you want to stop.”

“Yes. No, I mean, not yet. I just…” Christ, what did she want?

Ben was in little doubt. “You’re very wet. I’m guessing you’re enjoying this.”

Lily groaned. Was it absolutely necessary to point that out? Did he really need to humiliate her quite so much? She was already mortified at her disgraceful response, at the sudden burst of lust that started at her core and just grew and blossomed and now threatened to swamp her.

“You want an orgasm right about now. Am I right?”

She nodded, unable to do otherwise. Her senses were out of control, her sudden and acute arousal overwhelming her so she could barely think straight.

“Like this?” He dragged his palm along the length of her dripping slit and Lily let out a ragged moan. She tried to spread her legs to allow him better access but the jeans and underwear snagged around her knees prevented that. She groaned again, but in frustration.

“Do you want me to push them further down?” He read her mind.

Lily nodded again, desperate for any relief he might offer. Ben leaned over to shove her clothing toward her ankles, and Lily cursed the fact that in her clumsy, inexperienced haste she hadn’t even thought to remove her shoes. If she had she would have gladly kicked the jeans right away. Why had she not stripped naked at the start?

“Would you like me to sort this out for you, honey?” Ben was already tugging at the lace that held her training shoe in place.

“Yes,” muttered Lily, past caring now.

Ben soon had her shoes and socks off, and Lily toed her way out of the constricting jeans. The relief was almost tangible as she spread her thighs wide. He slid his fingers through her dripping folds.

“Oh, yes… yes,” she moaned, “that feels…”

She lost the power of speech when he dipped the tip of his finger between her pussy lips and swirled it around, the penetration minimal but unspeakably intimate. Lily thought she might scream if he didn’t go deeper, harder.

“Ben, could you…? I mean…”

He thrust his digit fully into her, treated her to several short, sharp strokes, then withdrew to concentrate on her clit. He flicked the tip, circled the swollen nub, then took it between his fingers and thumb and applied gentle pressure until she bucked against his thighs.

“Christ, I can’t… I’m going to come!”

“Feel free, honey.” He maintained the pressure, rolling her clit between his fingers as a kaleidoscope of colour exploded behind Lily’s eyelids. She had never experienced an orgasm like it, so intense, so powerful, and it seemed endless. Waves of undiluted pleasure rippled from the point where her senses converged, where his fingers caressed her quivering nub, and right out to her fingertips, her toes, the ends of her hair.

At last it finished, though her body still trembled with aftershocks. She felt limp, wrung out, but that was just the physical impact and barely mattered. For once, her head was clear, her mind quiet in a way it hadn’t been for months. She felt… grounded.

“Thank you,” she murmured, though that seemed a ridiculously small acknowledgement given what had just happened. “That was… good.”

“It was,” agreed Ben. “What are your thoughts now on the therapeutic effects of a good spanking?”

What indeed? For all her clear-headedness, Lily could barely string two coherent thoughts together, let alone articulate them into words.

“Is… is it finished?”

“Do you want it to be?”

She considered that for a few moments, then, “Yes, I think so.”

“Are you okay? Not too sore?”

She was surprised to realise that she felt hardly any tenderness at all. Her bottom was pleasantly heated, no more than that. It amazed her how quickly the pain could dissipate. Even when he laid his palm on her sensitive buttocks she barely flinched. She found his gentle caress added to her sense of security and wellbeing, and the intimacy of it was beautifully liberating. Her initial modesty was gone. Ben Tyler could stroke and admire her spanked bottom all night long if he chose to.

“Do you want to get up now?”

She didn’t, not really, but she supposed she would have to. Lily was by no means certain that she could. She tried to push herself up by hanging onto Ben’s leg and might have managed, but he slid his arm under her and helped her to get upright again. She staggered on her feet, but he held her by the elbows until she was steady.

“Is that it? Are we done?”

Ben nodded. “For now, yes.”

“You don’t… I mean, you said you wanted to fuck me. Earlier, at the pub.”

“And you said it was too soon. You were right.”

“But… this changes things, doesn’t it?”

“Sure it does. Now we know that you like to be spanked and it’s no secret, surely, that I’m willing to help you out with that. There’s a whole lot more I’d like to do to you too, but maybe you need to think about what that could mean. Do you want to get dressed?”

“I suppose…”

“You don’t have to.” He turned her around and drew her onto his lap. “You could just sit here for a while and we could talk. Do you have questions, perhaps?”

She did. Lots. Starting with some of the odder things he’d said before tipping her over his knee.

“What did you mean when you said ‘if I was your submissive’ I’d get spanked?”

“Right. I love the way you go straight to the heart of things. Okay, so I’m a dom. A dominant, which means I like to be in control. Mainly, for me, that’s to do with sex. I want to be the one who calls the shots in bed, and my partner does as she’s told. That’s what it means to be a submissive. A sub obeys instructions, or she gets punished. Before, I was pissed because you came out on your own in the middle of the night. I get that this isn’t downtown Chicago, but still it scared me, I don’t want you in danger, taking risks. If you were my sub I’d want you to keep yourself safe, and if you didn’t I would punish you to make sure you got it right the next time. And be warned, a punishment spanking isn’t nearly so pleasant. It fucking hurts.”

“Why? Why would you bother? You said you cared about me, but you hardly know me and I’m not your responsibility.”

Ben patted her bare hip. “Honey, this says different. I know you well enough to care, so get used to it. And you know me, trust me, enough to let me spank you. We’re headed somewhere, you and I.”

“Then, why don’t you want to sleep with me?”

“Who says I don’t? I respect boundaries though, and earlier you were quite clear that it’s too soon for you. I respect that.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Great. Tell me that again, tomorrow, when you have your clothes on and haven’t just had your head scrambled by your first spanking and a decent orgasm. And when you’ve had a chance to think through what fucking a dom would entail.”

She tipped up her chin to meet his dark azure gaze. “What would it entail?”

His lip quirked in the sexy smile she was coming to love. “Google it. Watch more videos. Look up BDSM on the internet and imagine what it might be like to be on the receiving end of a flogger, a paddle, to be stripped naked and tied down.”

Lily sat in stunned silence for a few moments, her imagination already getting quite a workout. The ideas he planted were terrifying but she was fascinated too, curious, desperate to know more.

“What about—?”

“Hush.” He laid a finger across her lips. “Google it. Think about it. Then, if you want to, if you’re interested, we’ll talk.”

“I don’t want to just talk,” she muttered, a spark of rebellion igniting.

“Well, we’re going to start there. And now, it’s late. Very late. Are you staying here the rest of the night, or headed back to the pub?”

“I should go back.”

“Your choice. You’re welcome to stay.”

Lily shook her head. “No. Gina will be worried.”

“You could text her.”

“No. Really, I should go.”

Ben shrugged and kissed her on the mouth. “Okay. Do you need any help getting dressed again?”

She didn’t, though her bottom was somewhat tender as she dragged her jeans back on. A few minutes later she was fully dressed, even had her warm jacket zipped up. Ben grabbed his own coat.

“You don’t need to come out,” she began.

“Bullshit. I’ll walk you back.”

“But—”

“No backtalk. Remember?”

Irritation simmered again. He might be a dom, or dominant, whatever it was he’d said, but they weren’t in the bedroom now. She was a big girl, quite capable of walking fifty yards along a deserted street and she didn’t much care for being bossed around. And who was he to tell her she couldn’t talk back?

“You’re being ridiculous. It’s only around the corner and I’ll be perfectly safe. You just get on with your work and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She got as far as the door. She actually had her fingers on the door handle.

“Lily, stop right there.”

She halted, turned slowly to face him once more. There was something new, some difference in his tone, it was subtle but unmistakeable. A thread of steel had somehow become woven though the normally stern and self-assured timbre. His expression, too, had a new and compelling quality to it.

Lily gulped and resisted the urge to back away.

Ben said nothing. He just watched, waited, regarded her with that arctic blue gaze until she fervently wished the floor might open up and swallow her whole.

“Wh-what…” she began.

He lifted one eyebrow. She was coming to recognise that gesture and cringed. He was displeased with her. More than displeased, he was angry.

So much for Ben Tyler’s feelings, the real mystery here was her own reaction to his displeasure. Lily was scared, but it wasn’t fear that caused the awful sinking feeling low in her stomach. She was disappointed, frustrated with herself for somehow letting him down.

“I’m sorry,” she began. “Of course, you’re right. I’d be glad if you could walk with me, and—” He silenced her with one upraised finger, then beckoned her to him. One imperious, stern digit was all it took to summon her across the room. He pointed to the floor right in front of him and Lily stood there as instructed, her head tilted back, unable to break his icy gaze.

“Did I not tell you that I care about you?” His tone was deceptively soft.

“You did, and—”

“Did I not also tell you that you were not to wander about alone late at night?”

“Yes, but I thought…”

“So why, knowing all of this, were you about to set off alone? I made my concerns clear yet you saw fit to disregard them.”

“I didn’t mean…”

“Now that you know what I want from you, what I expect, you also know the consequences of disobedience. Am I right, Lily?”

She opened her mouth but could find no words she wished to utter.

“Am I right, Lily?” he repeated softly. “Do you have anything to say?”

“Y-you’re right. Yes. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Shall we make sure though?”

“Make sure? What do you mean?”

“Come with me.”

He stepped past her and out into the hallway. Lily followed, silent, as he led her back to the room where his laptop and papers lay on the desk. She watched as he closed the laptop and collected the sheets of paper together then laid them on top of the computer. Most of the desk surface was now clear. Ben opened the top drawer and withdrew a plastic ruler, which he flexed between his hands.

“Drop your jeans again, to your knees, then bend over the desk.”

“No!” At some level, ever since he stopped her at the door with just a word, Lily had known this moment was coming but she was still shocked to her core by the cold, calm manner in which he issued his instructions. Before, the thought of a spanking had been exciting, a little bit dangerous but still fun. She had been in control, more or less.

Not now. Now, Ben Tyler held all the power. This was happening on his terms.

He lifted that implacable eyebrow again. Lily fumbled with the snapper on her jeans.

“Please, can’t we—?”

“Jeans down. Now.”

“But…”

“What part of ‘now’ are you struggling with, Lily?”

“You spanked me already. It hurts.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself. In future, maybe you’ll remember not to talk back to your dom when you’ve already been spanked once.” He paused, then, “I’m waiting.”

He didn’t need to spell it out. Don’t make your dom repeat himself and don’t keep him waiting.

With a defeated groan Lily unzipped her jeans and shoved them to her knees, taking her underwear with them. She bent forward to rest her elbows on the desk.

How did this happen? She came here for a spanking expecting it to be nice, sort of sexy. This was anything but.

“Ten strokes. You can count them if you like.”

Lily barely had time to register the cool breath of air on her recently spanked and already heated buttocks when the first stroke landed across her left cheek.

“Aaagh!” Any thought of counting flew out of her head as she danced from one foot to the other and reached back to rub her smarting backside.

“Keep your feet still. And keep your hands on the desk.” His voice was curt, the words clipped as though even now she was disappointing him.

Lily planted both feet on the floor, reached across the desk to wrap her fingers around the opposite edge, took her lower lip between her teeth, and braced for the next stroke. She was determined not to be found wanting again.

Ben hadn’t said she couldn’t make any noise. Just as well, because Lily screamed with each stroke that fell. Ben was ruthlessly efficient about it. He delivered her punishment with cool, clinical detachment. He was in no hurry, content, it seemed, to wait for her to settle down again before each stroke.

Her bottom had been hot before; it was surely on fire now. The pain snaked across her skin, the flames ignited by that bloody ruler now licked across every inch of her bottom. Ben moved on to the backs of her thighs, and Lily was mortified to learn that hurt even more.

If the sizzle of pure agony as each blow landed was awful, the whooshing sound of the ruler arcing through the air was almost as bad. Why, oh why had she not just thanked him for offering to walk her home?

Lily’s throat was hoarse as he dropped the final, swinging blow. It landed full across the widest part of her arse and forced the breath from her lungs. But even when she knew he had put the ruler back in the drawer, that her punishment was over, she didn’t move. She didn’t dare, not until he told her she could.

“Can you stand upright?”

A good question. Lily braced her hands on the desk and shoved herself up.

“Turn around. Look at me.” His voice was softer now, warmer perhaps or was she imagining that?

She shuffled around, still hampered by her jeans around her knees, and raised her gaze to his. Ben’s face swam and danced in front of her, distorted by tears she hadn’t even known she shed. He wiped them away with his thumbs.

“That was hard for you, I know. But you did well. And I hope you learnt from it. At the very least, you now know I mean what I say. I intend to make sure you stay safe, my little Lily.”

“I… I know. Thank you.” I think.

He grinned. “The offer to stay here still holds. Or I’ll walk you back to the pub if that’s what you prefer.”

“I think… I think I want to go back now. If that’s all right.”

“Of course. But you’re to text me as soon as you wake up to tell me how you’re feeling.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He smiled and helped her to pull her jeans back up. “Shall we go?”

The walk back was completed in silence. Lily’s head was whirling, her emotions utterly scrambled. And she was exhausted. She stumbled twice and Ben had to steady her.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close.

“Yes. Truly. I’m just really tired.”

“A first spanking is a big deal. It can leave you disoriented, confused.”

“I am confused, I suppose. But mostly I just need to sleep.”

They reached the rear door of the Black Horse and Ben waited while Lily fished around in her pocket for the key. He took it from her and fitted it into the lock, then turned to take her chin in his hand. He tipped her face up toward his.

“I could come in with you.”

“What about Gina?”

“I could sweet talk her.”

Lily shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Really.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon, in a few hours. Remember, text me as soon as you wake up.”

“I will, but… I was wondering if we could make it a bit later tomorrow. I know we agreed ten o’clock, but I need to get some sleep.” Lily yawned. “What time is it now?”

Ben consulted his phone. “Quarter to five. You go in and get your head down. I’ll see you after lunch. Say one o’clock?”

“Lovely. Good night.” On impulse she stretched up on her toes to kiss him. “And, thank you… for everything. And for walking me back.”

“My pleasure.” He leaned around her to open the door. “Sleep well.”

Chapter Six

Ben arrived at quarter past one. Lily was in her room when he knocked on her door. She’d woken feeling refreshed and rested, but had still found time to browse the internet for an hour before enjoying a long shower. She was just finishing drying her hair when he arrived.

“Gina said to come on up.” He didn’t come in, just held out his hand. “Are you ready?”

He’d changed into blue denim jeans, stout boots, and a black roll-neck sweater, just visible beneath his moss green quilted jacket. Even clean-shaven, he oozed sensuality.

“Yes.” She doused her burgeoning lust, banished some of the more compelling images from her foray into the online world of BDSM, and grabbed her coat. It was a decent waterproof one, and she took her time putting it on. Then she slung her bag over her left shoulder and took his hand.

Ben grinned at her. “It’s sure to be muddy up there. You’ll need sensible shoes.”

“I’m wearing trainers. The same ones from last night…”

“You’ll do.”

They exited through the front door of the pub and crossed the car park in companionable silence. It was Ben who spoke first.

“I phoned Charles Havers.”

“Oh. Did he…?” She fell silent. It was obvious by Ben’s expression that the conversation hadn’t gone well.

“No go, I’m afraid. He’s not budging. He was quite… stubborn. And not especially polite.”

“You mean he swore at you?”

“Yeah, a bit.”

Her heart sank. Still, there was always his front lawn. It was as though Ben read her mind.

“Look, before you start planning anything really silly, I have another idea. Just a possibility, but might be worth trying.”

“What? What do you suggest?”

“Forget about Charles Havers. What about we try to track down Luke instead?”

“I thought of that, but I don’t know where to start.”

“I’ve been thinking, back to when we were at school. There was a girl, Melanie. She was in the year below us and Luke had a sort of a thing going on with her. I never thought it was much at the time, but I know he stayed in touch with her after he left Mytholm Bridge. He mentioned it to me, in one of his calls and it stuck in my mind because I was surprised.”

“You think they might have been writing to each other? Might still be in touch?”

“It would have been phone calls, texts perhaps, not letters. But it’s a possibility they stayed in contact longer than he and I did. I went back to the States, and that was it.”

“But is this Melanie still here, in Mytholm Bridge? It’s been so long, she might have moved out, got married, anything.”

“Her dad’s repair shop is still here. I’ve seen it, and the sign above still says Murgatroyd’s. I’m pretty sure that was her last name. We could start by asking there.”

Lily stopped in her tracks. “Murgatroyd’s garage? By the supermarket?”

“Yeah. You know it?”

“I had new tyres fitted there a couple of days ago. Mel.” She paused to think, to remember. “Yes, Mel and Harry. Gina said they were the ones who run it now. And it was a female mechanic who did my tyres. Do you suppose that could have been her?”

“Sounds likely. Melanie had an older brother, but I can’t remember his name. Could have been Harry. He was about twenty, I think. Anyway, he’d definitely left school by the time I was hanging around with Luke so I didn’t see much of him. He was a good-looking dude though, I do remember that much. And popular.”

“You mean with the girls.”

“Yeah. They used to line up three deep according to Melanie.”

“I didn’t see him at the garage, just her. When can we go?”

“River first, then we’ll come back that way.”

It never occurred to Lily to question Ben’s continued involvement in her quest. Instead she just sort of slipped into step beside him and they quickened their pace as they made their way along the bustling main street. She had a purpose now, something to go on. She’d thought Charles Havers was her only link to the events of so long ago, but he’d turned out to be a massive disappointment. Finding Luke though… now that would be so much more.

Even as she told herself not to get carried away, her excitement mounted. The woman at the garage might not be the Melanie that they wanted, and even if she was she could have lost touch with Luke years ago. But Lily could hope, couldn’t she?

And she could think, she could imagine. She could try something new and dangerous and exquisitely exciting.

“I… I did as you suggested.”

“You did?” He glanced down at her. “I assume you mean you did a spot of internet research.”

“Yes.” She fell silent, unsure how to continue.

Ben made it easy for her. “So, is it for you? Any of it? You don’t have to take everything on board.”

“I saw… I saw some things I wouldn’t like. A man peeing on a woman… I’d hate that.”

“Agreed. Not my kink either. Anything else?”

“Do you have a ball gag?”

“Not with me.”

“At all, I meant.”

“Back home I do, in the States. Not here. I could get one easily enough.”

“Please don’t. I didn’t like the look of that. And I don’t want to dress up in weird clothes either.”

“By which you mean…?”

“A French maid’s outfit. Or an animal. No kitten ears or tail.”

“What about a butt plug?”

“What?”

“A plug in your ass. It doesn’t have to have a tail attached.”

“I’m not sure.”

“We’ll put that on the maybe pile then. Anything else you want to mention?”

“Could we… I mean, I like the idea of being tied to a bed. As long as you didn’t hurt me.”

“No guarantees of that, but you can be sure I’d never do anything to you that you hadn’t agreed to. This is all about consent, Lily. And trust.”

“I do trust you.”

“Thank you.”

“And, I want to sleep with you.”

“Which is a euphemism. I need you to speak plainly. Do you mean you want me to fuck you?”

She gulped, but met his gaze. “Yes. That is what I mean. I won’t be here for much longer, but while I am, maybe we could…”

He paused and turned to brush his lips across hers. “You’re right. No time to waste. First though… the river’s up this way.”

* * *

“It was just about here, I think.” Ben stopped at a flat, grassy spot about twenty feet from the fast-flowing river. “I remember Mrs. Havers had laid a couple of blankets on the ground and the food was spread out on those. We ate, the baby played on the grass over there. Then, after we stuffed ourselves with tuna sandwiches and cake, Luke and I kicked a football around for a while. We were down there…” He pointed to a spot perhaps fifteen metres away where the banking widened out. “We’d been playing for a few minutes, ten at the most. Sharon Havers and the grandparents had gone off somewhere, the toilet I think. I remember looking back up here and seeing the pram next to what was left of the food, and Charles Havers lying on the blanket.”

“Was there anyone else about?”

“Yeah, loads of people. It was pretty crowded, I told you that yesterday.”

“Did you see anything unusual? Out of the ordinary?”

“Like what?”

“Anything?”

“What are you driving at, Lily?”

“Nothing. It’s just… I’m just trying to visualise the scene, that’s all.”

“I saw nothing unusual, and no one except Charles.”

“But there could have been someone. Something. You were playing football. You weren’t watching the whole time.”

“No,” he conceded. “I wasn’t. But I didn’t see anything. Neither did Luke.”

“Then how did the pram get into the water? It can’t have just rolled away, the ground’s flat here. And if the brake was on…?”

“It wasn’t on when we pulled it from the water. The police established that much.”

“Even so…”

“A gust of wind maybe. Or even Grace wriggling in the pram might have set it in motion. The ground does slope as you get closer to the river. It must have been something like that.”

“You said it was a hot day, not windy.”

Ben paused, casting his mind back to that day. “It was hot. Sweltering, in fact, but maybe a little breeze…”

“Was there a breeze? Do you remember it being breezy that day?”

“No. No, I don’t.”

“Well then?”

“Well then, I don’t know how it happened. What I do know is that both the stroller and the baby ended up in there.” He turned to regard the river. “I spotted it, so did Sharon Havers when she got back from the toilet. Ben and I wasted no time, we just leapt in and grabbed it. We were there in moments, but it was still too late. Grace was gone.” He sank into a crouch, staring out over the river. “Christ, I’ll never forget that sick feeling as we searched for her. I wanted to throw up, but there wasn’t time. We were there, in the river, ducking under the water, trying to catch a glimpse. She’d been wearing a bright red T-shirt and I was looking for that but I saw nothing. Luke got out and ran downstream, in case she’d already been washed further away. Then the police were there, and the firefighters. They took over, and they searched for days. Most of the town was out, it seemed, at some stage. Everyone wanted to help, even though by then we knew we were looking for a body. We wanted to find her though. We wanted to be able to take her home.” He paused and Lily took his hand, squeezed it. Ben continued, his tone dejected, defeated. “We never did find her though. Grace never went home again.”

“You tried. You did your best, I know that.”

“Our best wasn’t good enough. If we’d just seen her sooner, better still, spotted the buggy before it reached the water. You know how sometimes you just want to rewind, play that bit again?”

“It’s done now. Over.”

Ben rose to his feet. “You’re right. It’s over and there’s no going back.” He held out his hand to her. “Have you seen enough?”

Lily nodded. “Yes. Time to move on. Murgatroyd’s?”

“Murgatroyd’s,” he agreed. “Let’s go see if Melanie can throw any light on what Luke ended up doing after they left.”

Chapter Seven

The repair shop looked smarter than Ben remembered from twenty years ago. There was a new rolling shutter across the front, and the sign was modern and bright, proclaiming this to be the place of work of H. and M. Murgatroyd. They could offer an MOT test while you wait, exhaust replacement, tyre fitting. All repairs carried out by qualified mechanics and fully guaranteed.

“Looks prosperous,” observed Ben, eyeing the three cars parked on the forecourt, two with their front bonnets open. A young lad in an oversized boiler suit sat half in–half out of the driver’s side in one of them. “Let’s see if Melanie’s about.”

“Hi there,” Ben started as they approached the car. “How you doing?”

The lad turned, grinned at them. “Fine. Are you here to pick up a car?”

“No. Actually we were looking for one of the owners. Melanie?”

“Mel,” put in Lily. “I think she goes by that now.”

“Oh, right. Just a sec. I’ll just ask my dad if she’s here.” The lad bounced out of the car and sauntered off into the bowels of the repair shop, his hands in his pockets. He returned a few moments later, followed by an older man who Ben assumed to be the dad in question. He recognised the striking features instantly. Even at forty plus, Harry Murgatroyd was still a fine-looking guy and the years had been kind to him. His expression was welcoming but a little puzzled as he held out his hand, first to Ben, then to Lily.

“I gather you’re wanting Mel. She’s out on a motorway call-out, mate. Anything I can do to help?”

“Thanks, but probably not. It’s personal rather than business?”

“Oh?” Harry Murgatroyd raised an eyebrow. He said nothing more, though it was clear he expected some sort of explanation. Ben sympathised. Melanie was Harry’s younger sister after all, and it couldn’t be every day that two strangers showed up out of the blue with personal business to take up with her.

“I’m Ben Tyler, and this is Lily Jamison. I was at school with Melanie, here in Mytholm Bridge. I was actually hoping to contact another old friend from back then and I thought she might be able to help. They were in touch for a while.”

“What friend? I might know her.”

“Him,” corrected Ben. “Luke Havers.”

Harry stiffened, his eyes narrowing. “Luke Havers? I remember him. He left, after…”

“Yeah, after his baby sister drowned. He and his mom packed up and went.”

“To London. They went to stay with Sharon’s mom and dad.”

“You knew Sharon, too? Mrs. Havers?” Lily stepped forward, peering up at Harry Murgatroyd. Ben thought she couldn’t have seemed more surprised if the Archangel Gabriel had suddenly appeared before her.

Harry appeared to notice Lily for the first time. His nostrils flared, he stared at her as though he wanted to swallow her whole.

Ben bristled. Harry was amiable enough, he supposed, on the face of it, but still there was something about the man. He might have settled down now, he had a son, for Christ’s sake, but that proved nothing. His tom-catting ways might not be behind him and if Ben had any say in it Lily was most certainly off the radar.

Ben cleared his throat. “So, any idea when Melanie might be back?”

It seemed to Ben that Harry had trouble tearing his eyes from Lily. He couldn’t really blame the man, she was gorgeous after all, but for fuck’s sake, did he have to make his interest so obvious?

“You’re not from round here, not with that accent. How come you were at school with Mel?” Harry eyed him with a distinctly suspicious look.

A fair enough question. “I was here for a few months, in the year ahead of Melanie. I was pals with Luke Havers really, and he was friends with Melanie.”

“I don’t think so…”

“Please,” put in Lily, “we just want to talk to her. Maybe she knows where Luke is now.”

“Why would she know anything about him? She’s never mentioned him to me.”

“We’ll come back another time.” They were getting nowhere here, decided Ben. “Maybe we’ll catch her then. Or you could tell her we’d like to talk. I’m staying at the old coffee shop on the main street, in the flat above.”

“Babs’ old place?”

“She was my aunt. I’m here to sell the property.”

Harry’s features cleared; he smiled, a broad grin of recognition. “Fuck, I do remember you! You were that American kid, the one who helped get the buggy out of the river.”

“That’s right. I was there that day.”

“Bloody hell.” Harry shook his head in amazement, then turned to Lily again. “And where do you fit into this? You don’t look old enough to be another school friend of theirs.”

“No, no, I’m not. I’m doing some research, for a PhD thesis, looking at unexplained deaths, like what happened to Grace. I was hoping to interview family members, but Mr. Havers doesn’t want to get involved, so I’d like to be able to make contact with Luke if possible.”

“Are you staying at Babs’ old place too?”

“No, I’m at the Black Horse in the main square, but just until tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Not necessarily. I might stay a few more days, if there’s a good chance of finding anyone to help with my research. Mel’s the best lead we have. The only lead, actually.”

Harry seemed to consider for a few moments, then, “Okay, I’ll tell her you were asking. Do you have a phone number where she can reach you?”

Lily produced her notebook and scribbled her number onto a blank page, then passed it to Ben. He wrote his too, then tore the page out and handed it to Harry. “Thank you. We appreciate your help. Even if she has no idea where Luke is now, could you ask Melanie to give one of us a call anyway? Just so we know.”

Harry nodded, his attention now back on Lily as she shoved her notebook back into the bag she always carried. “PhD student, eh?”

Ben had the impression Harry was no more taken in by that story than he was.

* * *

“Do you think she’ll get in touch?” Lily slid her hand into his as they strolled back in the direction of the town centre.

“Maybe. If not, we’ll go back.”

“The garage will be closed tomorrow. It’s Sunday.”

“Next week then.”

“I won’t be here next week.”

“No?” He glanced down at her.

“Well, maybe I could talk to Gina, stay on for a couple more days.”

“Right.”

They stopped at a place that served burgers and chewed on a couple of those over a Formica-topped table. Ben squirted a generous portion of ketchup over his chips. He grinned to himself, could never get used to the English habit of calling French fries chips. He regarded Lily who was attempting to eat her cheeseburger without oozing mayo everywhere. “So, what plans do you have for this evening?”

“I assumed… I mean, I sort of thought we might spend it together. You know…”

“Fucking? After I’ve tied you to the bed, obviously.”

He loved the way the pink flush spread from her neck to her face. Despite her obvious interest in his kinkier side, his little Lily was easily embarrassed.

“Yes, that,” she conceded. “Though I suppose I should phone my dad and tell him I’ve decided to stay a bit longer. He’s not been well, and he worries…”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Emphysema. He worked in a chemical factory years ago, before anyone properly understood the risks. This last year or so it’s taken its toll on him and I don’t want to be away too long.”

“What about your mom? Can’t she keep an eye on him?”

“She died, two years ago. It’s just me and my dad now.”

“Are you close? It sounds like it.”

She nodded. “Yes. Very. He’s… well, he’s my rock. He always has been, even before my mother died.”

“There’s no cure?” Ben knew there wasn’t, but felt he should ask anyway.

Lily shook her head. “He has medication, and that helps. But some days he can hardly breathe. He has oxygen at home, for when it’s really bad.”

“I’m sorry. It must be hard.”

She nodded. “Anyway, I’ll phone him later for a nice chat, tell him how the research is going.”

“You do that. I have some work I need to finish if possible.”

“What work do you do, Ben? I’m sorry, I meant to ask before… when you said you’d be up all night, working.”

“I do consultancy work, security systems mainly.”

“Was that the better offer? The reason you left the police?”

“Yeah. I had a friend in college, Charlie. We were in a lot of the same classes and he went on to set up his own company designing electronic security systems. We lost touch for a while, then I ran into him in a bar one evening. He was doing okay, he said, had more work than he could handle and was looking for someone to share the load. I was ready for a change right about then, and it interested me. So I quit my job in CPD and went in with Charlie as his partner.”

“Did you miss it? The police, I mean?”

“Not really. And it made my mom happy when I left. She fussed the whole time I was in the department, was sure I was going to be killed.”

“I don’t blame her. You could easily have been shot, or—”

“I was shot. Twice. I never told my mom that, though.”

“Well, I’m glad you left. Is it safe? What you do now?”

“Well, the clients can get pretty scary, but they don’t tend to come at me with guns or knives. The stakes are high, though. If I design a system and it fails, someone could be hurt or killed. At the very least my clients would stand to lose a lot of money and my reputation would take a dive. Folks pay Charlie and me a lot of money to be the best so that’s what we are.”

“And that’s what you were working on last night?”

“Yes. I’m designing a system for a shopping mall under construction in LA. I’ve drawn up some initial ideas but I need to give the project some more thought, iron out a few wrinkles before sending the proposals over to my client.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. You’ve been helping me and all the time you had stuff of your own you needed to do. I interrupted you last night.”

“I wouldn’t have helped you if I didn’t want to. And I had no objections at all to being interrupted. Anyway, you’re turning out to be surprisingly good company. And full of surprises. Like last night.”

He loved the way her cheeks flushed as she remembered her introduction to the noble art of spanking. He leaned forward to murmur in her ear. “Are you sitting quite comfortably today, Lily?”

She shifted in her seat. “I’m fine.”

“Good. Looking forward to the next time?”

She put her half-eaten burger back in the polystyrene carton. “Yes, I think I am. Did you mean it, about tying me to the bed?”

“Ah, you’re contemplating that prospect, then?”

“I… well, yes. I suppose so. It seems like a gentle sort of start.”

“I might have some surprises in store for you, but yes, I intend to tie you up. Maybe not straight away, but soon. I could blindfold you, too, just to spice it all up a little more. How does that sound?”

“It’s starting to sound a little scary to be honest.”

“Okay. And what else?”

She gave the matter a few moments’ thought. “Exciting, exhilarating. I’m curious and nervous at the same time.”

“Perfect. I can work with that. How about we both take a couple of hours to deal with the things we have to do, and I’ll come round to the pub later. Could I see you in the bar, maybe about nine o’clock?”

“Yes, that will be fine.”

* * *

Lily felt better after chatting to her father. Richard Jamison was having a good day, he assured her. He was fine, no need to hurry back. She was to stay in Mytholm Bridge as long as she liked. And Gina was just as accommodating. She could keep the room on for as long as she needed, just to let her know on a day by day basis.

She had another shower and chose a nice top to go with her skirt. It was the same skirt she’d worn to go to the Thai restaurant—she really must think about buying a couple more things if she was planning to stay much longer.

The bar was fairly busy when she entered. Gina waved to her from behind the bar and pointed to the corner table. Ben was already there, a half pint of lager in front of him. A glass of white wine waited in the empty space opposite him.

Ben stood as Lily walked across to meet him. He kissed her on the cheek and gestured to her to sit down.

“I ordered you a glass of wine. White, right?”

“Yes, thank you. I’ll get the next ones.”

“Fine. But we’ll both be on soft drinks after these, assuming we stay down here.”

“Oh? Why?”

He leaned across to murmur in her ear. “Alcohol and kinky sex don’t mix too well. We both need a clear head.”

“I see.” And she did, she thought. It all sounded eminently sensible. Considering. “Did you finish your work?”

“Not entirely. Got a lot done though. What about your call to your dad?”

“Yes. I mean, he’s fine. Well, sort of, as much as he ever is. I don’t need to rush back, and Gina said I could keep the room on a day to day basis.”

“That’s good. We’ve time to get to know each other, then.”

“I suppose we do. A few more days, at least.”

He took a sip of his drink then set the glass down. “When we were here last night I asked you what I’d need to do, or say, to get you to ask me up to your room.”

“And I told you that you had to say please.”

“That’s right, and I did say please. I’m saying it again now. Please, Lily…”

“Very well, since you asked so nicely. Would you like to come to my room with me, and… and…”

He kept his tone very low, very gentle. “And fuck you?”

Now her face went bright crimson. But she did not disagree. Ben continued. “I’d like that very much, Lily. And soon, I promise you, I won’t be the only one saying please. Shall we take our drinks upstairs?”

“I really should clear it with Gina first.” Lily glanced over at the bar where the landlady was busy serving three men in smart business suits.

“I’ll square it with Gina. You go on ahead. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“It’s room two. Left, at the top of the stairs.”

Chapter Eight

Lily set her almost untouched glass of wine and Ben’s half-finished lager down on the dressing table in her room. She should be more… more what? More tense? More keyed up? She was neither of those things, though she wouldn’t have described herself as exactly calm either.

Expectant. Yes, that was it. And curious. Reckless would be a fair enough description, she supposed. Sexy, dominant Ben Tyler would be here in just a few minutes expecting to fuck her. And more. He’d suggested much, much more with his final comment about saying please. What had he meant by that?

A soft knock on the door at her rear brought her inner ramblings to an abrupt end. Would she let him in? Should she?

No, she most definitely should not. The sudden rush of good sense had barely crystallised in her head before she turned and opened the door from the inside. “Please, come in. I’m sorry it’s a bit messy, I didn’t tidy up before I came down to meet you, and—”

He silenced her with a kiss. And he meant it. He cradled her jaw between both his hands and slanted his mouth across hers. He drove his tongue between her lips and Lily abandoned any further attempt at coherent thought. Long minutes later he broke the kiss but still held her face captive. He looked into her eyes and Lily was caught, helpless to move or to lower her gaze.

“You’re going to do exactly what I tell you. Aren’t you, my lovely little Lily?”

“Yes,” she whispered without hesitation. “Yes, I think I am.”

“Do you know why?”

“Because I want to.” Even as she said the words, her pussy clenched and moisture dampened her underwear. The process had started downstairs, the sudden rush of heat, the tingle of arousal burgeoning as he so casually reminded her of their conversation of just twenty-four hours before, his insistence that she repeat the invitation. And now, here they were, with her promising to obey his instructions as though that were the most natural thing in the world.

Perhaps it was.

“Because you want to. Because for tonight at least you’re a submissive and I’m your dom.”

“I don’t even know what that means. Not really. I mean, I watched those videos, but—”

He kept hold of her chin, forcing her to maintain eye contact whilst his free hand found her left breast and pressed against it. “You do, you know it here. Your body knows, but I’ll give you the words if you need them. I told you already, I get off on being in control, on giving the orders and being obeyed. You get off on doing as you’re told and pleasing me.”

“Why do I want to please you?”

She noted she no longer even attempted to deny that desire, but she was surprised by it, by the intensity of that yearning. Her question reflected her inner confusion. His answer was simple, and to the point.

“Because I’m your fucking dom, and you exist to please me. In return, I’ll make you feel things, experience pleasure, and perhaps some pain, but mostly pleasure, more than you’ve ever known before. If, when, you please me, I’ll reward you, and the rewards will delight you every bit as much as you delight me.”

“How? How will this happen?”

“I’ll show you. Starting with this.”

He lowered his lips to hers again, and this time the kiss was gentler, more an exploration than a claiming. His tongue danced with hers, he probed her mouth, tasting, testing, as Lily writhed and squirmed in needy pleasure. She slipped her own tongue past his to run it across the backs of his strong, white teeth and she tasted the lager still lingering on his breath. The intimacy of the moment both intrigued and beguiled her and she knew she would do anything, anything at all that he asked.

Ben stepped back, cast a glance at the untouched glass of wine and his own lager. “We’ll finish those later, in bed. For now, I prefer to keep a clear head and you should too.”

Lily nodded, relieved that at least one of them was making sense.

“Now you can remove your clothes.”

“Oh.”

He dropped a kiss on her forehead, then strolled to the double bed in the centre of the room. He settled himself against the pillows, his feet dangling off the side so as not to bring his shoes onto Gina’s spotless bedding.

“Are you going to watch?”

“I am, certainly. I hope you won’t keep me waiting.”

“Everything? You want me to take everything off?” Perhaps he meant just down to her underwear. Lily blessed the instinct that had made her choose a matching purple lace bra and panties set after she showered. Yesterday had been intense, but she was beginning to think this might be her hottest sexual experience ever.

“Everything. Completely naked. I want to look at you, see every inch of you.”

Oh. God.

Lily stood, immobile, trying desperately to collect her scattered thoughts. Where to start?

“Is any part of my instruction unclear?”

“No. Sorry, it’s just…”

“Then do it. Now.”

Did she detect the slightest hardening of his tone, a sliver of cold steel in among the velvet softness? A thread of authority that demanded obedience? Whatever—just the hint of it was enough to spur Lily into action.

She started with her glasses, offering up silent thanks that her eyesight wasn’t so bad she couldn’t manage without them. It would be a pity to miss the fine detail of what promised to be a most interesting end to the evening. Next, she pulled her top over her head and tossed it onto the chair a few feet away from where she stood. Her breasts were smaller than she might like, but shown to their best advantage this evening, cradled within the lavender coloured and artfully crafted silk and lace, lifted and held up for display. She looked good, she knew it.

Ben Tyler’s thoughts were indiscernible. The man gave nothing away as he watched, his expression alert, interested without a shadow of doubt, but for now seemingly reserving judgement. Lily allowed her gaze to drift lower, and was reassured by the distinct bulge tenting his pants. He might have his poker face on, but his cock wasn’t playing that game.

“Quit ogling me. We both know you’re sexy as fuck. Now get on with your task.”

“I’m sorry,” Lily mumbled as she kicked off her ankle boots.

“That’s ‘I’m sorry, Sir.’”

“What?” She glanced up at him, her fingers on the zipper of her skirt.

“When we’re here, together, just the two of us and you’re already half-naked and on the point of begging me to fuck you, you’ll call me ‘Sir.’”

“I will?”

Ben nodded. “You will.”

He was right, she would. It was yet another curious phenomenon to examine later, but for now, “I’m sorry, Sir.”

He gave her a half-smile. “Continue.”

Lily removed her skirt and flung it over to join her top on the chair. Next, she peeled down the dark grey tights she had chosen for the evening to reveal the skimpy lavender concoction beneath. She often preferred the comfort of a thong, but the figure-hugging outfit she had selected for her evening with Ben made the matter non-negotiable. She paused for a moment, in just her bra and panties, then reached behind her for the clasp. The bra dropped forward, loose, and Lily allowed it to slip down to her wrists before she had chance to think again. She hoped her breasts could stand up to close scrutiny without the additional aid, but she had no doubt that, whatever he might think on the matter, Ben Tyler would be polite.

Whether he would make further comment on her bare pussy remained to be seen. Lily had booked the Brazilian wax just before coming up to Yorkshire, something of an impulse, she supposed, though she did usually prefer the freshness of being truly naked. She held her breath as she rolled the panties down and kicked them away, then forced herself to stand still, upright, her shoulders back as Ben rolled from the bed and approached her slowly.

He walked around her, pausing, she imagined, to peruse her still faintly pink arse before completing his circuit. He brushed his knuckles down her smooth mound.

“This is beautiful,” he breathed. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t. I mean, I sort of prefer… It was for me,” she blurted.

“It’s for me, now. All for me, right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

His approving smile was all the reward she needed for her acquiescence. Slowly, he drew the backs of his fingers up the length of her torso, drawing his knuckles between her breasts before taking her left nipple between his finger and thumb. He rolled the stiff little bud and Lily bit back a moan.

He caught it, and smiled. “You don’t have to be quiet.”

“I don’t… It’s just that someone might hear.”

“No, they won’t. There’s no one but us on this floor. You can relax, Lily, and enjoy yourself.”

“I am. I think.”

“You think? How about we find out for sure?” His free hand slipped between her legs to caress her labia. Unthinking, Lily widened her stance. Ben stroked her folds, tracing the outer, then the inner lips of her smooth pussy before dipping a finger inside her tight, wet channel.

Lily couldn’t have contained her gasp, then her moan of pure pleasure as he withdrew his finger, only to plunge it back, deeper the second time. She grabbed his upper arms for support, afraid she might just dissolve into a puddle at his feet.

Ben inserted a second finger, twisting his hand and scissoring the digits inside her to caress her inner walls. Lily wondered if despite her best efforts she might melt after all.

He pulled his fingers out and she wanted to protest at the sudden, aching emptiness. He held up his hand, coated with her juices. “Ah, yes, no doubt about it. You are enjoying yourself.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“No regrets so far?” He continued to roll her nipple between his fingers, applying more pressure now, almost to the point of discomfort.

“No, Sir… except…”

He waited, one eyebrow raised as he squeezed her nipple until she gasped. “Except?” he prompted.

“Aren’t you getting undressed too? I mean, shouldn’t we both be naked?”

“If I decide that’s the way to go with this. For now, I’m happy as we are.”

“But you said you’d fuck me. You… you promised. I think.”

“I did. And?”

“It would be rude. To do that, with your clothes on.”

Ben released her now throbbing nub and leaned in to mouth his words right into her ear. “My sweet Lily, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me to fuck you, pleading with me, and you really won’t care whether I’m naked or not.”

“Oh. But—”

“Even so, I wouldn’t want you to consider me ill-mannered. I will remember the preference you’ve expressed, and take it into account. Good enough?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good to continue?”

“Yes, Sir. Yes, please.”

His lip quirked as he moved to once again stand behind her. “Can you touch your toes, Lily?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Do it for me, then, with your feet as far apart as you can manage.”

Her stomach lurched. This was about to get really serious, really personal. It was just too intimate.

“Sir, I…”

“Problem, Lily?”

“No one has ever…”

“Someone’s about to. You either bend over, now, or you just say no. Which is it to be, Lily?”

She drew in a breath, let it go then drew in another. His simple question, the choice he offered her, made it all so uncomplicated. She bent at the waist and laid her palms flat on the floor in front of her widespread feet.

Ben took his time. Almost too much time. Lily had never felt more exposed, more vulnerable than she did in those moments when she knew he was looking at her. She could almost feel the warmth of his gaze as he assessed her exposed pussy, still disgracefully wet, soaking with her juices. He had only to part her arse cheeks ever so slightly for a perfect view of the tight, untouched pucker of her rear hole. Mortified, she clenched her teeth as he laid his palms on her upraised cheeks and spread them to reveal her most private place.

But she didn’t move, and she didn’t protest. She’d had an idea what to expect. Lily knew that humiliation and lack of privacy, of dignity came with the territory. Even though the reality of it was almost excruciatingly personal, she held her position and allowed him to look his fill. Despite her resolve, however, she couldn’t help but flinch when he used his thumbs to part the lips of her pussy.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, Sir. I just… I’m finding this very difficult.”

“I expect you are. You’re doing well, but I do want you to keep very still while I explore what’s mine for tonight. Do you understand?”

“I’ll try, Sir.”

“I’ll make it a bit easier for you. If you move, I’ll spank you. Like this.”

Lily yelped as a sharp slap sent a sting of discomfort shimmering across her left buttock. It was gone in an instant, but had hurt momentarily. More, though, it was unexpected, a shock even, and instinctively she started to rise.

“Stay where you are.” The command was if anything sharper and more of a surprise than the slap had been. And infinitely more powerful. Lily returned to her original position, and she waited.

Ben caressed her smarting buttock with his palm, soothing the hurt away. “Are you okay? Do you want to stop?” His tone had gentled again.

“I… I’m not sure. It’s just, I didn’t expect that.”

“I know, but now you do. You can call a halt if you want to. Nothing’s going to happen without your consent, but I ought to mention, you’re very wet down here. I’m thinking you might not like being punished, or you think you don’t, but being spanked to remind you to behave winds your crank as much as having my fingers in your pussy did.”

Lily blinked, reluctant to admit, even to herself, that he might be right. “Please, not too hard. I’m not…”

“Of course not too hard. Never too hard.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make you come. I doubt this will take long, you’re a horny little thing, and I’ve hardly started on you yet. Then, I think I might like to lie you on the bed, your legs spread for me, and do it all again with my tongue. By then, I rather think the pleading will be in full swing. You’ll be begging to be fucked.”

“Maybe I should just beg now.”

“Maybe you should, maybe you will. It’ll make no difference. I’m setting the pace here and I want to see you come for me first.”

Lily groaned as the reality, the heady, exhilarating, frustrating, and inevitable truth of her situation sank in. He was in control, had been, she now recognised, since she first laid eyes on him the day before yesterday. It had all been leading to this and now she could only submit. And hope he would treat her well. She had to trust him. It was strangely easy to do that, she found.

“Yes, Sir. If that’s what you prefer.”

“Okay, so let’s get to know each other a bit better, shall we? I want to know what you like, what really turns you on, so please feel free to tell me. But remember, no wriggling. Now, where was I?”

Lily spoke without thinking. “You’d just parted my pussy lips, Sir, with your thumbs, I think.”

“Yes, I did. I’m glad you were paying attention.” He repeated the action, this time spreading her labia with the fingers of one hand and driving two digits from the other hand deep into her cunt. Lily sighed her pleasure, and swayed slightly on her feet.

“Lily…” There was a warning in his tone.

“Sorry, Sir.” She stiffened her knees, determined to hold her position.

Ben’s fingers were gentle as they slid in and out of her pussy, first a series of short, rapid strokes, then deepening and slowing. A third finger joined the first two, and now she felt the stretch, the sensation of fullness, of being pushed toward some limit she had no prior notion about.

“Sir, I… oh. Oh!”

“Does that feel good, Lily?”

“Yes, Sir, it does. So good…”

He placed his free hand on her buttock, the one he had so unexpectedly slapped just a few minutes ago. Now he caressed and stroked, as though soothing any residual sting away. It was gone anyway, and now she merely revelled in the sensuality of his touch as he twisted his fingers within her to stroke the front wall of her pussy. Then she shrieked, unable to contain her cry as pleasure surged.

He appeared to know just where to stroke her to repeat the sensation, and soon Lily was gasping and moaning and trying harder than she ever had to remain perfectly still. It was a losing battle, and when he slid the hand from her buttock to reach beneath her and squeeze her clit, she lost the fight entirely.

Her hips gyrated almost of their own volition as wave after wave of sensual delight surged through her, starting at the sweet spot inside where he rubbed and pressed and scratched, then rippling outward to send her body into convulsions. She rocked on her feet, swaying and shifting as her orgasm sent her senses spinning. The climax was powerful, a rush of pure sensation that swept through her overloaded senses and utterly overwhelmed her. The pulsing ripples of pleasure seemed to continue for an eternity though she supposed it must have just been a few seconds.

As the sensations ebbed and the aftershocks caused her to shiver, she remembered his threat—or promise. She had utterly failed to remain still.

He would punish her. And, she thought, she might just love it.

* * *

She was a natural, a fucking natural. Scared, maybe a little reticent, at first, but so up for this he could almost taste her arousal. He had pushed her, more than he originally intended, but a good dom would go with his gut, tune in to her responses, and push his sub to her limits. Ben intended to give Lily a night she would never forget.

He suspected he was going to find it pretty memorable too.

Her delectable pussy contracted around his fingers, squeezing as though desperate to hold him there. He gave her G-spot a final rub and she moaned again, a beautiful breathy sound emanating from somewhere close to his ankles. She had done well to hold that pose for so long, though he had noted how firmly toned her body was, sinuous and athletic. She must work out a lot. He would ask. Later.

“You moved.” He kept his tone low and gentle, but managed to inject that all-important thread of stern authority

“I know. I couldn’t help it.”

“You understand the consequences.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You’ll get a spanking, you know that, don’t you?”

“I… yes. Thank you, Sir.”

He withdrew his fingers from her pussy, then paused to smear her wetness across her butt cheeks. “Okay, you can stand up now.”

Lily straightened, wobbling slightly. Ben caught her elbow to steady her.

“Thank you, Sir. I just felt a little light-headed there.”

Still behind her, he wrapped his arm around her upper chest and drew her back against him. “Wait a minute. Lean on me.”

“I’m okay now. Really.” A few seconds had passed and certainly she seemed to be steadier.

“Are you ready to continue?”

She turned her head, twisting her neck to look up at him over her shoulder. “Are you really angry with me? Because I moved?”

“Do I seem angry to you?”

“No. You seem… nice. Kind and caring. That’s why I’m confused that you want to punish me.”

“I hope I’m kind, and I certainly care. But that doesn’t mean I’m not also strict about obedience and I do mean what I say. I gave you an instruction, you agreed to carry it out, then failed. You knew that by not doing exactly as you were told you’d earn a spanking.”

“I know that, but—”

“Do you think I’m being unfair?”

“No, not really. Just more demanding than I imagined. This seems weird. It’s not what I expected when I asked you up here.”

“You know, you don’t have to do any of this stuff. Your choice, Lily.”

“It just feels odd. I’m not sure…”

“Odd in a bad way?” He deliberately gentled his tone and lowered his head to kiss her naked shoulder. Lily shivered in his arms so he turned his face to brush his lips over hers.

“No, not bad,” she breathed when he ended the kiss. “Just… different. It’s intense and I’m feeling a little overwhelmed, I suppose.”

“We go slow then, and I promise not to harm you. I want you to accept this spanking from me. I want you to trust me and allow it, but you can say no. I would never force you to do something you really don’t want. As long as we’re together I’ll push your boundaries, get you to try new things, but always with your consent. Does that help?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“You think so, Sir.”

“Sorry. Yes, I think so, Sir.”

“And will you allow it?”

A few moments passed. She gnawed on her lower lip and Ben resisted the urge to kiss her again. She had to decide this for herself.

“Yes, Sir. And, I do trust you.”

Now he did kiss her, turning her in his arms to fully face him. He cradled her jaw between both his hands and deepened the kiss, all the while slowly walking her backwards toward the bed. When he reached it he turned them again, broke the kiss, and sat down. Lily stood before him, her lips still parted and glossy, her expression one of apprehension. Despite her obvious and understandable nervousness he believed he detected a hint of expectancy in her lovely storm-coloured eyes.

“Lie across my lap, Lily. Like you did last night.” Having gained her agreement, pricked her curiosity even, now was the time to get on with this.

She hesitated.

Ben hardened his tone. “Now, Lily. Hurry up.”

And she did. Without further ado she flung herself face down across his lap. Ben adjusted her position to his liking, arranging her hips over his right knee so he could raise her bottom up as he wished. Her upper body was draped over his left knee, her hands once again braced on the floor. Ben turned to his left and lifted her up so her upper body rested on the bed beside him.

“Better?”

“Yes. Thank you, Sir.”

“Fold your arms and lay your head on them. Try to relax.”

“Easy for you to say. Sir.” Even so, she arranged herself as he suggested.

“I know. Enough backtalk, if you please.”

“Sorry,” she murmured, then added a ‘Sir’ as an afterthought. “I’m ready.”

She lay still, quiet now, her eyes closed. Oh, yes, she was without a doubt ready for this and he intended to make it good. He cupped his right hand slightly, and went to work.

He kept the slaps light at first, scattering them evenly across both globes of her bottom. The flesh pinked up quickly, and soon he had achieved a delightful rosy glow that covered her entire backside. Lily clenched her buttocks and shifted from side to side, but overall seemed to be coping well. Time to increase the pressure, just a little.

Ben leaned over and wrapped his left arm about Lily’s waist. It wouldn’t do to let her slip off his lap mid-spanking. Next, he lifted his right leg just slightly, enough to elevate her nicely prepared bottom. He flattened his hand a little more, and set to work again.

Now the spanks were harder. Ben put definite weight behind each slap, then waited a moment to observe the deepening glow of her skin. Her firm flesh rippled with each stroke, and she started to let out small cries. He set up a slow, steady rhythm, distributing the smacks evenly across both buttocks.

Top left, top right, middle left, middle right, lower left, lower right. Repeat.

Lily became more vocal, her small mewling sounds louder now as the pain intensified. He was piling slap after slap in the same places, and her sensitive skin would be really smarting by now.

“If it becomes too much for you, tell me and I’ll stop.”

“I… I’m okay, Sir. I think.”

Thank God.

“Good. Now spread your thighs for me.”

“Don’t spank me there. Please.”

He was making no promises. “Open your legs, Lily.”

Despite her protests and natural trepidation she obeyed him, and he leaned to his right to catch a view of her sweet pussy. She was pink as a cherry, and her clit swollen, needy, fully exposed from under the hood of flesh that had concealed it before. Oh, yes, she was very much okay, and responding to this just as he had hoped she would.

Ben laid the flat of his hand across her moist cunt and rubbed a slow, leisurely circle. His fingertips grazed her clit and she writhed under his touch.

“Oh! Oh, God, please.”

Ben chuckled. “Just Sir will be fine.” He continued to caress her pussy, smearing her wetness back to her anus where he lingered, pressing his fingertip against the tight pucker.

“Would you let me in here, if I asked you nicely?”

“I… I…” She clenched her bottom and stiffened.

“Maybe another time.” He returned to attend to her clit, flicking the engorged nub first from one side, then the other. Lily went wild, wriggling and thrusting her hips upwards as her arousal began to spike.

“I need to come. Please, Sir…”

“Soon, Lily. After your spanking. This is a punishment, remember?”

“Sir…” she wailed, as he abandoned her clit and started to trace the delicate line of her outer labia, then her inner lips. He dipped just one finger into her entrance and swept it around inside her, sought out her G-spot again and paused to rub there. He stopped when she started to buck, her movements ever more desperate, more frantic as she sought the release that was so close.

He pulled his finger out. Lily groaned but said nothing.

“You can close your legs now.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You said you didn’t want me to spank your pussy.”

“I don’t care,” she wailed. “Anything. You can do anything you like, just let me come. I want to come. Now. Please. Sir.”

“Ah, such a needy little sub. You really are quite a slut, my lovely Lily.”

“Yes, I know. Just… please. Ow!”

She yelped as he resumed the spanking, harder now, causing her bottom to darken to a deep crimson. He paused, laid his palm on her buttock and relished the heat rising from her flesh.

He rubbed.

She squirmed and moaned.

He lifted his hand and started to spank again.

Lily let out a sharp cry with each stroke. She was gasping now, and tears leaked from behind her closed eyelids. Ben doubted she even realised she was crying. Her thighs were spread wide, and he picked his spot, right across her swollen labia.

The slap he delivered to her cunt was lighter, but still enough to draw a sharp yelp from her. Ben didn’t pause though. He resumed the spanking on her buttocks.

“One more on your pussy, then the next will be on your clit and that’s when you’ll come for me. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir…” Her voice was breathy, almost inaudible.

He dropped another light spank directly onto her pussy. There was no scream this time, just a low, throaty moan. She was close.

So. Fucking. Close.

Ben resumed his steady, rhythmic circuit of her butt cheeks, loving the way her deep red skin rippled and indented under his hand, then sprang back in readiness for the next slap. He increased the intensity, turning up the dial just a fraction more, just enough to push her right to the edge.

She opened her eyes, parted her lips, the words hovering there.

Now!

Ben dropped the final spank, softer now, right on her clit. “Come for me, girl,” he commanded.

Lily’s orgasm erupted, her body shook in rapid convulsive movements as she writhed on his lap. He tightened his grip around her waist as he rubbed her clit hard to draw out the sensations, dragging every last frisson of pleasure from her. Her climax seemed to go on forever. Lily shuddered and squirmed as he pinched her clit, then tugged on it. He wasn’t gentle, but she revelled in his rough handling, spread her legs wider and lifted her bottom up, silently pleading for more.

So he gave her more, stroking and squeezing until she was finally spent and lay boneless across his lap. Ben allowed her a few moments in which to regather her senses, then he lifted her in his arms and turned her to face him. She leaned her cheek against his chest and flung an arm about his neck. Ben shifted, lay back against the pillows, taking her with him. Several minutes passed before she spoke.

“I’m glad I did that. I wasn’t sure, but… Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That I’d like it.”

“It’s my job to know. To know how far to push you, and when to stop.”

“It was good. So good. Even when it was hurting, it was still good. Sort of. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You don’t need to explain it. This is just the way it is, with us.”

“I want you to fuck me. I really, really want you to fuck me now.”

“I will. But first, I promised you my tongue. I want to taste you.”

“Enough of the foreplay, I want you inside me. Now. I’m ready.”

A hint of frustrated impatience had crept into her tone. Ben wasn’t about to let her set the pace. This was his show.

“You don’t get to decide that, Lily. I call the shots here. You’ve been ready for ages, but I’ll decide when you get what you want. You’ll have to earn it, with another orgasm.”

“I can’t. I really can’t come again so soon. I’m done.”

“No, you’re not. Not until I say so. Lie down on the bed, your hips near the side and your thighs spread as wide as you can.”

“Please, Ben. Sir…”

“Do it,” he commanded, knowing that she would.

Sure enough, her reluctance evident in the pouting expression she made no attempt to conceal, Lily wriggled from his arms and lay down across the bed. She bent her legs at the knees and tucked her ankles under her hips as she allowed her thighs to fall to either side.

Ben flung a pillow onto the floor beside her, then knelt on it. “Look at me, Lily. Eyes on me while I lick your delicious cunt.”

Maintaining eye contact, he leaned in to first blow on her swollen clit, then flicked it with the tip of his tongue. Lily shivered, but didn’t move.

He flattened his tongue now and drew it over her labia, savouring the sweet muskiness of her juices. She was so wet, so aroused. The taste and smell of her filled his senses. His cock twitched in his pants, demanding to be set free. It was time. If he didn’t get to sink balls-deep into her within the next thirty seconds, his nuts might just explode.

He applied his tongue, lips, teeth with more urgency now. Ben nibbled on her clit, drawing it between his lips and applying just enough suction to draw a startled gasp from her. So much for not coming again so soon. She was on the verge, already starting to tremble as her arousal mounted.

He adjusted his position, and thrust his tongue between her pussy lips. Lily’s hands were in his hair, her fingers tangling his locks and tugging slightly. She wanted his mouth on her clit again.

Soon, he thought. Very soon. But first…

He shoved his hand under her bottom and lifted her up. Now her anus was right in front of his mouth and he shifted his attention there. He licked, circling the rim with the very tip of his tongue. He felt her stiffen, but she was too far gone, drowning in lust. Any residual reluctance was in her head. Her body accepted this, all of this, just fine. Ben used his thumbs to part her cheeks and give him better access as he pressed his tongue against the tight rosette of muscle, then kissed her puckered entrance.

Next time…

He allowed her to draw his mouth back to her clit, and again sucked the swollen nub between his lips. He scraped his teeth over the tip, then held it tight between his lips as he thrummed with his tongue. Lily let out a throaty groan, arched her back, pressed her pussy against his face.

This time, when he applied suction, it was enough, too much. She stiffened, then shook hard as her release overwhelmed her senses again. She shuddered, her fists clenching and unclenching in his hair as first the rush of her release, then the aftershocks flooded her body.

Ben took advantage of the few moments when she was totally preoccupied, and the fact that his hands were free, to unbutton his shirt and slip it off. When she went motionless, spent, he got to his feet, toed off his shoes then shucked off his pants, underwear, and socks. It only took him a few moments to get naked, but Lily was already recovering. She opened her eyes and smiled.

“I like your body.”

“Good.” He fisted his erect cock and loomed over her. “Are you still ready?”

He knew she was, but had to ask.

“Yes, Sir.”

He bent and produced a foil packet from his pants pocket on the floor at his feet, then without further ado snapped the wrapper and unrolled the condom over his dick. Lily shuffled back on the bed to make room for him. One knee between her spread thighs, he leaned over and planted his hands on either side of her shoulders. His weight on one arm, he reached back to position his cock at her entrance, and he drove forward to fill her in one powerful stroke.

Lily’s mouth opened, her eyes widened, but she made no sound. Her entrance parted to let him in, and her inner walls gripped his shaft like a glove. She was tight, and hot, and so fucking beautiful he thought he might have died and gone to heaven. Slowly, uncertainly, she rolled her hips beneath him. She was experimenting, testing, exploring the feel of him inside her. He allowed it, this time, briefly, before he took control again.

He treated her to a series of short, jabbing thrusts at first, designed to establish his presence and give her a chance to adjust, to accept him inside her. Then he lengthened the strokes, deepening them, driving his whole length in, right to the hilt. And now she did cry out, but her sounds were throaty cries of pleasure. She grasped his shoulders and clung on as Ben lowered himself to take his weight on his elbows. Her breasts were pressed against his bare chest, her face buried in the crook of his neck as he fucked her, hard, fast, and so deep the tip of his cock bumped her cervix with every stroke.

He adjusted his angle, just a fraction, but enough to be sure he caught her G-spot with each inward thrust. He wanted her to come with him inside her, but he didn’t have long. His own orgasm was just moments away.

“Come for me,” he growled. “Come now, Lily.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, held him tight as her pussy convulsed, her inner walls squeezing hard around his wide girth as she obediently climaxed on command. He groaned his approval as he drove his cock deep, then held still as his balls contracted in response, forcing his semen up and out. His cock twitched, the movement violent, involuntary now as his cum pumped out in hard, staccato spurts. It filled the condom, hot and wet. He had never felt more gloriously alive.

Ben sank onto the mattress, but managed to roll to the side rather than depositing his weight on the woman beneath him. He took her with him, his cock still deep within her as she wrapped her left leg around his waist.

“I don’t want to stop. I don’t ever want to stop.” Her tone was defiant, petulant almost.

He knew the feeling, but biology was a hard mistress. Ben withdrew his cock from her and quickly removed the condom. He tied a knot then dropped it on the floor to dispose of later. Always the optimist, he had plenty more where that one came from.

“Soon, sweetheart. We’ll do it again soon.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He kissed her hair. “Do you think Gina does room service?”

Lily shook her head. “Sorry. Why, what did you want?”

“A cup of coffee would be good.”

“There’s stuff on the side, there. A kettle, and some sachets…”

“Sachets?” What did she mean?

“Sugar, milk, and so on. In little packets.”

“So there are. May I?”

“Help yourself.”

“Anything for you?”

“Not just yet.” She yawned. “I think I’ll just rest for a few moments.”

By the time he returned to the bed with his coffee, she was fast asleep. He drew the duvet up over her. She rolled over, snuggled in.

Should he stay, or leave? Before he came up here Gina had mentioned that Lily had a spare key to the rear door, in case he wanted to let himself out after the pub was closed. Ben already knew about the key, she’d used it last night, but he didn’t relish the idea of going through Lily’s belongings looking for it. He could go home in the morning for fresh clothes. For now, he was fine where he was, and with luck he could probably sweet talk Gina into a breakfast.

Ben finished his coffee, replaced the cup, and slipped into the double bed beside Lily. As though sensing his presence, she rolled toward him and wriggled up against his side. He looped his arm around her shoulders, lay back and closed his eyes.

* * *

“You stayed.” Lily sat up and gazed across the bedroom at the tall, handsome man who was still in her room after the night before, fully dressed and calmly helping himself to more of her complimentary coffee.

“I did. Do you want anything?” Ben gestured to the kettle, the remaining spare cup.

“Tea, please. I like one sugar, and just a little bit of milk.”

He screwed up his face as though the concoction sounded awful to him, but Lily couldn’t fault his execution of her wishes. The cup of tea he brought over to the bed was just perfect.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Just after eight. Is that bacon I can smell?”

“Probably.” Lily took a sip of her tea. “Gina likes to go the whole hog on a morning. Which reminds me, I need to try and sneak you out the back door before she notices.”

“No, you don’t need to do that. She knows I’m here. I reckon a few pieces of that bacon have my name on them.”

“How? How does she know?”

“I told her I’d leave a note on the bar if I went. I’d have slipped the spare key back through the mailbox so she’d need to go pick it up and give it back to you.”

“I see. You had it all worked out then, the pair of you.”

“Not exactly. Gina was cool about me staying, the rest was up to you. I think I made that plain last night.”

She felt the flush rise up from her chest. God, the things she’d done. The things she’d allowed him to do to her. What had she been thinking?

Ben came to sit beside her. “Regrets?”

Lily shrugged. “No, more embarrassed, I guess. I don’t… I mean… I wouldn’t, not usually…”

“But you did, and it was a good scene. Intense, but good. Right?”

Lily nodded, unable to do less. “Yes,” she whispered. “It was good. Even the spanking.”

He kissed her forehead. “Especially the spanking, I think.”

She nodded again. “Yes, especially that.” She hesitated, then, “I’m sorry I fell asleep. Did you think I was very rude?”

He laughed, the sound low and incredibly sexy. “No. I thought you were tired.”

“I was. God, I was exhausted. I can’t believe it… I was out like a light.”

“This stuff can be… draining. Especially for the sub.”

“It was. But I’m awake again now, and… I think Gina’s bacon might wait half an hour. I mean, if you’d like to…”

“Fuck you again?” He grinned, that gorgeous, lopsided, sexy smirk that turned her insides to water. “Hell, yes. But the next time I fuck you, you’ll be tied to the bed as per your carefully specified requirements, and I reckon that’ll take more than half an hour.”

“Tied to the bed? Why? There’s no need, at least not this time. I’m going nowhere.”

“Ah, but there is. You’ll see. Something to look forward to.” He winked, then got to his feet. “Now, do you have plans for today?”

“No, not really. I’m just waiting for Mel to get in touch.”

“What about a day out?”

“Out? Don’t you have work to finish?”

“It’ll keep. I fancy this place.” He produced a crumpled leaflet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Sat nav says we could be there in an hour. Well, not much more.”

Lily picked up the leaflet. “York. You want to go there?”

“I do. I’ve been meaning to. How about it?”

“But what if Mel phones me?”

“Then you can talk to her. Take your phone with you. Come with me. Let’s have a nice day out. There are museums, and Viking remains. Shops.”

“Well, I could do with a look round the shops. I’m running out of clothes.”

“So, you up for it? Please?”

“Now you’re saying please again. You know I can’t resist when you say please.”

“Noted.”

Lily laughed out loud. “It’s mad, but yes. Let’s go. Have we time for breakfast first?”

“Oh, yes. Then I’ll need to go back to the flat for a while, change my clothes, grab a shower. I can probably be back here by about ten if that’s okay with you.”

“Yes, of course. Whenever. You can use my shower here if you like.”

“Thanks for the offer but I need to get changed, have a shave.”

He ran his hand over the stubble that now shaded the lower part of his face. Lily thought it looked sexy, and would feel amazing against her skin. Her mother had always insisted that unshaven men were louts. Yet another thing Susanne Jamison was dead wrong about, decided Lily.

“Come on, you, out of bed. We’ve got stuff to do, starting with Gina’s breakfast.”

He grabbed the duvet and snatched it away before Lily could react. She clutched her arms across her suddenly naked breasts and glared at him.

Ben grinned at her. “Bit late for that, sweetheart. And unless you want to store up another spanking for yourself, you can stop looking at me like I just bit the head off your hamster. Go on, grab yourself a shower if you want one but don’t be long if you want to get your share of that bacon. I’ll see you downstairs.”

* * *

He was in the bar when she arrived, hair still damp from her shower. Ben was seated at one of the tables, which now sported a pretty checked tablecloth, and tucking into a plate of Gina’s fine bacon, eggs, sausages, grilled mushrooms, and baked beans. A rack of brown toast was on the table, along with a saucer holding a few curls of butter and one of those tiny jars of marmalade. The coffeepot gurgled on the bar and, if Lily was any judge, he would be on his second cup by now.

He certainly looked at home here.

“Morning,” Gina called out from her nook at the rear of the bar. “Breakfast is coming right up. Fried egg or scrambled?”

“Oh, scrambled, please,” replied Lily.

“Right. Help yourself to coffee. Ben might like another cup, too.”

Lily had no doubt of it. She poured her own, then took the jug over to the table where he was just polishing off his fry-up. She refilled his cup without even bothering to ask.

“Thanks.”

“How much longer will you be staying in the UK?” She took the seat opposite, laid with a placemat, knife, and fork.

“It’s an open-ended trip. As long as it takes to sell the shop and café, I suppose.”

“Don’t you need to go home? For work?”

“Like I told you, I’m a security consultant. I’ve been working while I’m here and Charlie’s based back in Chicago so he can handle anything that needs a personal presence. My role is mainly designing systems and I can do that wherever I happen to be as long as I have my laptop. So no, I don’t need to go back to the U.S. to work. I can be based anywhere with an internet connection.”

“I see. That sounds… convenient.”

“It’s turning out to be.” He gestured to his empty plate. “That was fucking wonderful.”

“Glad you enjoyed it. I owed you a meal, after last night.”

He shrugged. “If you say so. Do you suppose Gina does breakfasts for non-residents?”

“Only the sexy American ones.” The landlady was crossing the room with Lily’s plate. “You just let me know, and there’ll be a plate of bacon and eggs for you any morning you like.”

“I love your English hospitality. How come I’ve never been in here before the other day?”

“No idea. Just poor taste on your part and lousy judgement, I suppose, and a prejudice against warm beer. Still, I think there’s hope for you.” Gina turned her attention to Lily. “Do you want white or brown toast this morning?”

“Brown, please.”

“Coming right up.”

Ben sipped his coffee and ate his toast while Lily ploughed through her breakfast. She was convinced she would soon become as fat as a billiard ball if she stayed much longer, but Gina’s food was some of the best she’d ever tasted. She laid down her utensils and finished her coffee.

“Shall I get you another cup?” Ben offered.

“Please, if you would.” He got to his feet and took both their cups back over to the coffeepot on the counter.

“I’ll just finish this, then I’ll be off.” He took a gulp of the coffee then grabbed his jacket which was draped across the empty chair next to him. He shrugged it on. “Ten o’clock then, or thereabouts. Okay?”

“Yes, okay.”

“You have a bit of bean juice, just here…” He reached for her and wiped the corner of her mouth with his thumb. Then he kissed her, a deep, sensual kiss that promised much more to come. And she knew that ‘more’ included being tied to his bed and fucked senseless.

Her pussy was already wet just imagining it. He was right, she was a slut, but who cared? This would be a heady ride, and a short one as theirs was only ever destined to be a transient relationship, two people who happened to be in the same place at the same time.

But she was in now, and loving it, and determined to enjoy every moment while it lasted.

* * *

“Come to dinner this evening, with me, at the flat.” Ben turned to her as he pulled into the car park at the Black Horse and parked his rental car alongside hers. Their day in York had been a heady mix of following the tourist trail and some serious shopping. Lily had several new skirts, a seriously sexy top, and a pair of fuck-me heels. Life was good. She leaned over into the rear seat to grab her bags.

“What? You mean to cook for me? But it’s my turn to feed you, surely.”

“Nah. My breakfast went on your tab. Tonight’s on me. Spaghetti Bolognese all right? It’s my speciality.”

“Sounds nice. Shall I bring wine?”

“Another bottle of that red Gina has in her cellar would go down well. Come over around eight?”

“I’ll be there.”

“And Lily, feel free to bring your toothbrush and fresh underwear. For the morning.”

Chapter Nine

“I hope you didn’t mind. About Ben being here last night. I mean, I never planned to—” Lily had stopped for a coffee and a chat with Gina in the bar before going to Ben’s flat.

“Ah, not at all, love. He’s a fine one you’ve got yourself there. Don’t suppose he has a brother?”

“I’m not sure. I never asked. He didn’t mention one.”

“Ah, well, that’s a pity. Are you seeing him again?”

“Tonight, actually. I’m just on my way. He invited me for dinner, at his flat.”

“Right. Well, you have your key, in case you come back after closing time.”

“I do, thanks. He… he sort of suggested I might stay over… at his.”

“Sounds promising. Let me know if you’ll be wanting your breakfast, then. And whether it’s for one, or two.”

* * *

Lily set off for Ben’s flat just before eight, her bag over her shoulder. As well as her notebook she’d stuffed her toothbrush in there, along with toothpaste, a clean top for the morning, one of her new ones from her shopping spree, and two spare pairs of knickers, just in case. Under her other arm she had a bottle of Gina’s Malbec.

Ben opened the door at her first knock. His footsteps clattered down the stairs, then he was there, still in his blue jeans but minus the boots and pullover. His T-shirt was plain black and he looked as sexy as hell.

He kissed her right there, on the doorstep, then stood back to gesture her inside.

A flight of steps faced the door, leading to the flat. Another door to the right led into the café, she supposed. On impulse she asked if she could see it.

“Sure.” Ben opened the door and flicked on the light switch. “Go on, have a look round.”

The space was bigger than it had appeared from outside, much deeper. The shelving she had spotted was dusty but looked to be made of fine oak and would look superb polished up. The floors were also solid wood to match the counter at the opposite end.

“The place was originally owned by my grandfather. He opened the bookstore after the end of the Second World War. My aunt took over sometime in the late seventies, after my mom married my dad and immigrated to the States. Babs added the café, and that was always her passion. I think she just kept the books as a sort of memorial to my grandfather, but that part of the business didn’t really thrive any more. Babs made her money out of cakes and fancy coffee.” He gestured to the far end of the premises. “That was the cake shop and the coffee bar. There used to be tables set out here in the middle but those are stacked in the back room now.”

“It’s a pity she let the bookshop go a bit. It could be fabulous though. It would need sofas, I’d think, nice comfortable ones to sink into and browse the books.”

“I don’t remember sofas ever being here. Like I said, Babs always concentrated on the café.”

“That’s what it needs. And low tables at this end. The books could be second hand, rare editions, that sort of thing. A bit niche, but the coffee would draw in the punters. And the cakes, obviously.”

Ben flashed her a bemused grin. “Talk about being divided by a common language. What the fuck is a punter?”

“Punters are customers.”

“Ah, I see. You have this all figured out.”

Lily was warming to her theme. “You could have art in here, too. Maybe some of your prints on the walls, or other local crafts for sale.”

“I could? I’m selling the place, remember.”

“Well, the new owner then. It could be lovely.”

“Remind me to wheel you out at the next showing.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interfere. What do I know about running a coffee shop anyway? Even less a second-hand book shop.”

“You have a vision, and it starts there. Now all I need is someone with a couple of hundred grand to spare.”

“Two hundred thousand pounds. Is that the asking price?”

“For the flat and the shop, yes. It’s a fair enough valuation.”

“I know. Just… wow. It’s a lot of money.”

Ben shrugged. “Have you seen enough?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Come on up then. We can continue the guided tour upstairs.”

She followed him up the steps and into a narrow hallway on the first floor. A door to the left led to the kitchen, small but functional. A pan of what Lily assumed must be the Bolognese sauce stood on the hob.

“Smells good.”

“I’ll do the spaghetti fresh when we’re ready to eat. The living room’s this way.”

He opened the door on the opposite side of the hall, to reveal a cosy lounge with two plump sofas, a television, and a lovely log-burning stove. A small table and matching pair of chairs at one end appeared to offer the flat’s dining facilities. The table was set for two. Ben took the wine from her and set the bottle on the table. “I’ll open this now, let it breathe.”

Lily wasn’t certain why that was necessary, she would just drink it straight away, but Ben seemed to know what he was talking about. He handled the corkscrew with deft, practised ease while she wandered around exploring the room.

“This is lovely, so cosy.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty much as Aunt Babs left it. I bought the television though. Hers looked to have come out of the Ark. I swear it ran on gas.”

“I love the stove. Is it real?”

“Certainly is. The central heating’s on, but I’ll light it later, if you like.”

Lily stretched out on one of the sofas and kicked off her shoes before putting her feet on the cushion next to her. “This is lovely. Your aunt had great taste.”

“A bit old-fashioned for my liking, but nice enough. Come on, before you get too comfortable there.” He offered her his hand and drew her up to stand in front of him. “There’s more to see. The bedrooms, for example.”

“Ah, right. Is that where you keep your handcuffs?”

“Oh, Lily, have a little more faith in me. I left all that behind when I quit the CPD. In any case I’ve something much nicer in store for you. Soft silk, for your wrists and ankles.”

Ankles too. Oh, God, that must mean…

Her pussy clenched as she imagined being bound, spread-eagled on his bed. She would be needing those spare knickers, no doubt about it. Her stomach quivered, her nipples tightening into hard buds as she followed him from the room and down the hallway.

“Bathroom’s there.” He pointed to the door on the left. “And this is one of the spare bedrooms. I’m using it as a studio just now.”

He opened the door and Lily peered inside. A desk was set up under the window, and a large laptop stood open on it. The screen was blank. Several sheets of paper with handwritten notes and diagrams scrawled on them littered the surface of the desk.

“Is this what you were working on?”

“Yeah, just some early ideas. Needs a lot of work still.”

“What sort of security do you deal with? Is it to keep burglars out?”

He leaned against the door frame and folded his arms. “My systems include anti-intruder measures, but clients are also looking for fire safety, protection against terrorist attacks, cameras and monitoring systems. It’s not just about keeping the bad guys out but also about providing those who run the building with intelligence about who is on their premises, where they are and what they’re up to, and creating escape routes for use in emergencies.”

“That’s what you meant before, about people dying if you get it wrong.”

He nodded slowly.

“I think you’d be good at it. You take your responsibilities seriously.”

“I do.” He offered her a brief smile. “Shall we…?”

Lily laid the papers back on the desk and followed him back out into the hallway.

“The guest room is there, and as you know, my bedroom’s the one at the end.” He stopped, smiled at her. “Your choice, Lily. No hard feelings, I’ll feed you anyway, whatever you want to do.”

She stared at him, surprised. No way was she backing out of this now. “It’s fine. I’m fine, really.”

He kissed her forehead. “You are indeed. Damn fine.”

The main bedroom was bigger than she remembered, though in fairness she hadn’t taken that much notice on her previous visit, and much plainer than the living room.

“I made some changes in here,” explained Ben. “Couldn’t do with all the chintz and I’ve been taking loads of bits and pieces to the thrift shop just along the street.”

“It looks… nice. Practical. Very you.” She couldn’t take her eyes off the five silk scarves that he’d dropped in the middle of the navy blue duvet. The bed itself, she now noted, was made of wood, with posts at all four corners. Obvious, really, she supposed. “What are those?” Several interesting-looking gadgets were scattered next to the scarves.

“Just a few toys I picked up this afternoon.”

“You mean to use these on me?” She recognised a bullet vibrator and a larger dildo, as well as a tube of lubricating gel. A ball gag was conspicuously absent.

“Of course. You’ll like them, I think. Mostly.”

“What about this? I’m not sure I like the look of this thing.” Lily picked up a lavender coloured flogger, the suede strands dangling over her hand as she ran it between her fingers. “Does it hurt?”

“No, not necessarily. It depends how it’s used, what sort of sensation I want to create.”

“What do you plan for me tonight?” Could he detect the quiver in her voice? She suspected Ben Tyler didn’t miss much.

Ben stepped forward to take her face between his palms. His tone was low, seductive, his deep brown eyes like melted chocolate. “I plan to give you a seriously good time, if you’ll let me.”

“Like yesterday?” she whispered.

“Mmm, but we’ll try a few new things too. Sound good to you?”

“It sounds very good. I think.”

“So, I’d say you’re a little overdressed right now.”

“You want me to strip.”

“Yes.” He stood back a pace. “Then kneel on the bed and wait for me.” He turned and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Something I need to get from the kitchen. I expect you to be ready and in position by the time I get back.”

She was. It took just a few moments to shed her clothes then she scrambled onto the mattress, moving the scarves and toys to the foot to make space for herself in the middle. She knelt, her hands folded in on her thighs, and stared at the door.

Ben re-entered after just a couple of minutes. He carried a cup, which he set down on a chest of drawers close to the door.

“What’s that?” wondered Lily.

“Just something for later.” He stood at the end of the bed and perused her naked body. “You have the prettiest breasts, Lily. I intend to pay them a lot of attention this evening.”

“Thank you. I think.”

“How are your marks from yesterday?” He twirled his forefinger in the air. “Turn around and bend over. Let me see what’s left of my handiwork.”

Obedient, she turned her back to him then leaned forward to lay her cheek on the duvet and raise her bottom in the air. Self-conscious, she willed herself to remain still for his inspection.

“Just a slight hint of redness, that’s all. Is it still sore?”

“No, Sir. Not at all anymore.”

“Mmm, need to do something about that. I tend to find a smarting bottom does wonders for a submissive’s powers of concentration.”

Lily bolted upright and twisted to face him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you need a few stripes across your ass, just to focus your attention and remind you why you’re here. I think three on each side would do the job nicely.”

“Remind me why I’m here? I don’t understand.”

“You’re mine, your body mine to mark as I please. I’m in control here, you obey. So you’ll bend over and lift your bottom up for my belt, because that’s what I’m instructing you to do.”

“Have I done something wrong? Is this a punishment?”

“No. It’s because I want to. You either submit, or you say no. Your choice.”

“It doesn’t feel like a choice.”

“Doesn’t it?” He moved in close to cup her chin in his hand. “Well, you do have a choice, always. I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I… I want to please you, I want to do as you say. But… I’m scared. It’ll hurt.”

“It will, but not so much you won’t be able to stand it. And you’ll have a safe word.”

“A safe word?” She vaguely understood that, had read of it in some novel or other.

“Yes. We’ll keep it simple. Traffic lights system. Red means stop. If you say red, whatever’s happening will stop instantly. If you’re restrained in any way I’ll release you, no argument, no questions. That’s your safety net, your way of knowing you can always call a halt.”

“I see. Just… say red.”

“That’s it. And if you feel yourself getting close to your limit, or you’re really scared, or even just need to slow down, talk perhaps, you can say yellow and I’ll check in with you. If you use yellow it should help you to never need red. But as well as having your safe words, be sure I’ll be watching too, and I’ll know how you’re doing. You’ll be giving off all sorts of signals and I’ll pick up on them. It’s my responsibility to make sure you stay safe.”

“What sort of signals?”

“Facial expressions, little movements, breathing, heart rate, there’ll be any number of clues. But safe words are for you, something you control and pull out if you need to.”

“I see. Red and yellow. What about green?”

“Good point. Green means all’s well, continue, you’re happy with what’s happening to you. I’ll ask you what colour you are at various points and you’ll answer green, yellow, or red. Well, hopefully not red, but you get the idea?”

She frowned up at him, considering. “I can stop you at any time?”

“You surely can, sweetheart.”

“Oh. Okay then.”

“You’ll accept my belt across your bottom?”

“If I have to. If that’s what you want.”

Ben bent to brush his lips over hers. “It is. So, you know the position. Get in place and wait. No fidgeting, and no more talking until it’s done, unless I ask you a direct question. Or you want to use a safe word.”

Lily gulped, but the instruction was clear enough. She could do this. Ben stepped back, his hands in his jeans pockets, one eyebrow raised in expectation. It was enough. Lily turned her back and resumed her earlier posture, her hands tucked under her cheek as she laid her face on the mattress.

“Bottom higher, lift up as much as you can. I want a good target so you’ll need to present all of your bottom ready for my belt. You don’t hide from me. You accept it, invite it.”

“Yes, Sir,” muttered Lily, lifting her buttocks as high as she could. She gritted her teeth and tensed in readiness for what was to come. This would soon be over. Three strokes on each side, that wouldn’t take long. Would it?

Chapter Ten

Christ, she was adorable. What a find. The perfect submissive.

Lily was scared, he could tell, but not so much that it would be a major issue as long as he handled her with sensitivity, blending the stern with the gentle, firm and unrelenting demands tempered by caring. And his dom instincts told him that her curiosity was boundless. She dreaded and craved the pain at the same time, was aroused by the exhilaration, the sense of danger, the wickedness of it all. As was he. The intoxicating headiness of an intense BDSM scene brought a rush like no other and he intended to make sure Lily experienced that too. What she wanted, what she needed, was what really mattered here.

He would deliver. Ben was determined to draw her into this at a pace hard enough to challenge, to keep her on edge, but slow enough that she could acclimatise, adjust, and process the conflicting emotions. He would feed her the intensity of sensation she desired, and bring her safe to the other side.

She flinched at the sound of him unfastening the buckle, the faint whisper of leather on denim as the belt slipped through the loops on his jeans. She stiffened, her buttocks clenching tightly, but she didn’t move. Ben looped the belt in his hand, folding it in two and enclosing the buckle within his fist. He moved into position behind Lily and picked his spot. He would stripe her right cheek first, three perfect red wheals, evenly spaced across the milky white flesh. The left side would be a mirror image, perfectly symmetrical.

Ben liked order. He liked to keep things tidy.

The belt whistled as he swung it, and landed exactly where he intended, across the lower curve of her buttock. The most tender spot, he deliberately started there. If the sub could take that first stroke, the rest would be easier though she wasn’t to know that. Yet.

Lily cried out, a breathy yelp of pain and shock. Ben waited, belt dangling from his hand. If she was going to safe word, it would likely be now.

Lily went silent, her body quivering, her bottom firm as she clenched hard. Already the first stripe was blooming, blossoming into the delectable shade of deep pink he sought.

“Colour, Lily?” He needed to check. She needed the reassurance.

“G-green, Sir.”

She was close to tears, but coping. So far, so good.

The next stripe landed two inches above the first, the leather falling across the widest part of her buttock with a resounding crack. Subs often found the sound of the whipping as awful as the burn of it on their skin. It all added to the intensity of the experience, in Ben’s view.

Lily cried out again, louder this time. Again, he waited until she was silent once more, and still. Holding position.

“Good girl.”

He swung again, laying the third and final stripe on that side in perfect parallel to the first two, on the upper curve of her buttock. Lily grunted, her body lurched forward, but she recovered quickly enough and resumed her position.

Her toes were curling and her breathing had become rapid, sure signs she was struggling.

“Colour, Lily?”

“Green, Sir… but maybe a bit yellow.”

“You need a break?”

She waited a moment, then shook her head. “No. I want to finish.”

“You’re saying red?” Shit!

“No! No, I meant I want this to be finished. I want you to do the other three, as fast as you can.”

“Ah. Same again, then?”

“Yes.”

“I think you mean, yes, please, Sir.”

“Yes, please, Sir,” she whispered, but it was loud enough.

She cried out again at the first stroke on her lower curve, then continued to moan and writhe. “Oh God, oh God…”

“Keep still, and no talking. Scream if you must.” He hardened his tone deliberately. This was no time to go soft, especially if he was to satisfy her desire for the belting to be concluded without delay. Ben adjusted his stance and dropped the second stripe across the centre of her bottom.

Lily’s cry was a keening sob, and he could see that she was crying, her shoulders shaking with her weeping. That was good, as it ought to be. Tears were one way a sub found release, and he had yet to meet one who could endure a decent whipping dry-eyed.

“One more,” he announced. “Ready?”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied, more of a wail than coherent words.

Ben obliged, wasting no time in placing his third stripe opposite its twin on her right cheek. The flesh of her bottom gave a satisfying shudder as the blow rippled across her skin. This time he didn’t lift the belt away but rather left it where it lay, caressing her tender ass with the leather.

Lily was gasping, still weeping but already quieting. He allowed her a few seconds to regather her senses then removed the belt and laid it on the bed at her side.

“Spread your legs.”

“Please, not there…”

“We’re done with the belt. Six strokes, three on each side. That was the agreement, and it’s finished.”

“Then what…?”

“A butt plug. It’ll help to reinforce your submission.”

“Oh, God. I don’t want a plug, not there.”

“Maybe not, but it’s going in.” He sat on the side of the bed and reached to caress her still-quivering bottom. “This was painful, but you managed it. The plug will be a new sort of challenge. Mental, not physical. It might feel odd, a bit uncomfortable, but it won’t hurt, because I’ll be gentle. I’m going to take as much time as you need and use a lot of lube. The only barrier is in here,” he leaned forward to tap her temple with his fingertip, “and that’s what you’ll overcome next. You’re going to let me do this intimate thing to you. You’ll let me push the plug in, and you’ll let me fuck your ass with it for as long as I choose to. I’m guessing you’ll love it, actually, once you get the humiliation thing out of the way. In fact, if you’re very good and cooperative I’ll allow you to stroke your clit and get yourself off while I’m fucking your ass.”

“I can’t…”

“You can, and you will. Now.”

“Please…”

“Safe word, or be quiet and do as you’re told.” Again, he hardened his tone. There would be no further debate, it was time to act.

She remained motionless while he selected the butt plug from among the toys at the foot of the bed. It was a small one, of course. He knew she was an anal virgin and had purchased accordingly. He had no wish to harm her or make this any harder than it needed to be. He picked up the lube and squirted a generous smear onto his fingers.

“I’ll prepare you first, make sure your ass is nice and slick and your entrance open. One finger, then two. Okay?”

Her whispered “okay” was barely audible. For all her protests of just a few moments ago, she was already surrendering to the inevitable.

Ben laid his lubed finger at her puckered entrance, using the fingers of his other hand to gently part her buttocks. She winced when he touched her wheals but otherwise managed to hold still. He pressed against the ring of muscle.

“Try to relax. My finger is going in here. The sooner you open and let me in, the better it’s going to feel.” He increased the pressure, just slightly, but enough to sense her continued resistance.

“Lily, open for me.”

The next push was easier. Her entrance parted enough to admit the end of his finger. He held it there, just inside her ring of tightly furled muscle, then started to turn his digit first to the left, then the right. He kept his movements slow, achingly gentle, teasing her into submission.

He felt it, the precise moment she surrendered to his invasion. Her body relaxed, her entrance slackened as she ceased to squeeze it shut. He pushed his finger deeper, still twisting, swirling within her narrow channel. She was tight, tense, but getting there.

He withdrew a little, then plunged his finger deeper. He repeated, short, slow strokes, each one penetrating a fraction more than the one before.

“Colour, Lily?”

“G-green, Sir.”

He pulled his finger out and dribbled more lube onto it, and to the area around her anus. “Let’s get you nice and oiled up, shall we?”

“That stuff’s cold, Sir.”

“Sorry.” He plunged his lubricated finger right inside, and this time met with no resistance. “Now two.”

The second finger was harder to ease inside. She was tight, her channel narrow and her entrance only widening slowly but Lily kept quite still as he worked on her gently. Her muscles stretched, as he gently probed her asshole. He took his time, but the outcome was never in doubt. As he settled his fingers fully inside her, he knew she had accepted him, her submission was complete. He had her.

He slid his fingers in and out, slow at first, then harder, faster as her body relaxed around his digits. Satisfied she was ready, he pulled his fingers all the way out and picked up the plug again. A quick squirt of lube, and he was ready. He placed the blunt head at her entrance, and pushed firmly.

“Press back against the plug, and relax. Let it inside.”

The toy slipped into place with satisfying ease, the outer lip settling at her entrance, which closed around it, holding it in place.

“That wasn’t too bad, was it? Colour, Lily?”

“Green,” she squeaked. “I’m still green, Sir.”

“Now, I fuck your arse. Feel free to play with your clit, but if you feel yourself starting to come you’re to stop and tell me.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”

He estimated no more than three minutes. It took her just over two. He worked the plug in and out, angling it slightly and swirling it to create the friction he wanted against her inner walls. She writhed and squirmed, panting, her fingers rubbing hard against her sensitive nub.

“I’m going to come, Sir. Sorry… I can’t… oh!”

Ben flicked the small button at the end of the plug to send a volley of vibrations pulsing through her ass. He pushed the toy home again, then leaned around her to strum her clit as she quivered and came apart in his arms.

Her orgasm was powerful. Relentless, he drew every last shiver from her, holding her in place to accept his continued stimulation even as the aftershocks started to ebb. Only when she lay limp and spent did he pull her upright to lean back against him. She sagged against his chest, knees spread wide, the plug still pulsating deep within her body. Her face was a picture of sated ecstasy as he caressed her soft folds, sliding the flat of his palm over her sopping labia.

“Feeling good, lovely Lily?”

“Yes, Sir. Very good. Oh!”

He’d flicked the switch on the plug, increasing the intensity of the vibrations.

“Can you turn around and look at me?”

Lily shuffled around to face him but didn’t raise her gaze to meet his.

“Look at me.” He injected a more forceful tone into his voice.

At last she lifted her chin, her features still tearstained but there was more too. He saw it in her smoky eyes. Victory. And sated lust.

She had accomplished what she set out to do. It had been hard at first, excruciating perhaps, both physically and emotionally. Humiliating without a doubt but the rewards were there too and she had earned hers. The plug would help take her mind off her smarting buttocks, but her ass must hurt like a bitch right now and that wouldn’t subside any time soon. He hadn’t gone especially easy on her with his belt. But she had endured it anyway. For him. For her? Accepting the plug had been another ordeal, at least initially, but she had done that too.

“You did well, Lily. I’m proud of you.”

“Th-thank you, Sir.”

“Are you proud of yourself?”

She frowned, processing the unexpected question. Then, she nodded.

“Use words, if you would. I want no mistake, no misunderstanding. Tell me how you feel about yourself right now.”

She pondered briefly, as though assembling the correct set of words to describe the churning complexity of emotion he knew must be rolling about in her head. Confused, chaotic, there was much to process.

“I… I’m braver than I thought. Stronger. I wasn’t sure I could do that, any of it, but I did. I thought about asking you to stop, first with the belt, then again when you were pushing your fingers in my arse. Two really hurt… but I wanted to finish, and I did.”

“On a scale of one to ten, how sore is your ass? The outside.”

“About seven, I suppose, Sir. Eight, maybe.”

“Sounds good. And inside? How are you coping with the plug?”

“It’s very… distracting.”

“You’ll get used to it. You’ll have to because I expect you to concentrate, to focus. By the way, your bottom looks absolutely beautiful. Do you want to see? There’s a mirror over there.”

She turned to look in the direction he indicated, then gasped when she caught sight of her punished bottom adorned with six vivid red stripes. She reached around to touch the top one with her right hand then grimaced slightly. She bent forward and widened her stance, making the end of the plug visible between her bottom cheeks.

“Oh. Wow! Can I touch it?”

“No.” His response was curt, stern. It was time to press on. “Now I want you to lie on your back on the bed. See how my handiwork feels when your weight is on it, and the duvet’s rubbing. Pain and pleasure, my lovely Lily, a potent mixture.”

He watched as she gingerly arranged herself as he asked. Her eyes were closed but her brow furrowed as she lowered her bottom onto the mattress and settled in place.

“Extend your hands to the corners, and spread your legs good and wide, as wide as you can. Show me your pussy.” As he issued his commands he moved around to the head of the bed and picked up two pillows. “Lift up your hips so I can shove these underneath.”

She whimpered as he pushed the pillows under her bottom but made no protest. It was the submissive, accepting attitude he was coming to expect from her and her acquiescence pleased him greatly.

“Comfortable?”

“Not very. And I’m a bit scared of what comes next.”

“I’m going to tie your wrists to the posts, and your ankles. You’ll be able to move, but not much.”

“What then? What do you intend to do to me?”

“Then, Lily, we play. We have toys, you’ve seen them. And plenty of imagination. It’s the imagination that does the damage. Which is why I’ll blindfold you too.”

At the mention of the blindfold she ran her tongue across her lower lip, another of her nervous signals, he had come to recognise.

“Thirsty?” he asked as he secured her left wrist.

“A little, Sir.”

“I’ll deal with that very soon. Your other hand, please.”

Dutifully she lifted her right hand and he tied one end of a scarf around her slim wrist, then fastened the other end to the bedpost. He left a couple of inches of slack, enough that she could turn her body a little and bend her arms if she needed to. He didn’t want her suddenly developing a cramp at a vital moment.

He moved to the foot of the bed and repeated the process with her ankles, though he pulled those wide and left no slack. She was not to be permitted to close her legs, even a little.

“How does that feel?”

“Scary, Sir.”

“Got it. Any discomfort? The physical variety? Not too tight?”

“No, Sir. It’s okay.”

He inclined his head, then picked up the last of the scarves. “This is for your eyes. Are you ready?”

She nodded, though with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. Ben was quick to lay the silk across her face and secure it at the back of her head. She would probably settle quickly once it was in place. The waiting, the anticipation, that was the hardest part.

“Don’t leave me!” Lily blurted out the plea as he straightened. “I don’t want to be left alone. It’s dark. Promise me you’ll be here, all the time.”

“I will be. I won’t leave the room.”

“Not for anything?”

“Not for anything. I swear.”

The promise seemed to calm her. Her breathing was rapid, but slowing as though she deliberately fought to control it. A long inhale, then a slow exhale. In, out, in, out. The stiffness seeped from her extended limbs. She relaxed, her body softening under his gaze.

She really did have the most perfect tits, Ben mused, savouring the fine view laid out before him. Her skin was pale, several shades lighter than his own, the perfect English rose. Her waist tapered artfully, as though sculpted by a master. The flare of her hips was gentle, seductive, utterly exquisite. Her naked mound both entranced and fascinated him, as did the equally smooth labia he could see nestling between her spread thighs. Truly, she was a vision. And she was his.

Ben returned to the chest of drawers by the bedroom door to retrieve the cup he had left there almost twenty minutes earlier. He checked the contents. Yes, they would still do.

“I promised you a drink. Open your mouth, Lily.” He sat on the edge of the bed, noting that she turned, half-rolled in his direction, at least as much as her restraints would allow.

Dutifully, she parted her lips. Ben reached into the cup and pulled out the largest of the ice cubes swirling around in the chilled water that had formed as they melted. He slipped it into his mouth, then leaned over her to lay his lips over hers.

“Oh!” Lily let out a surprised yelp and would have wriggled away but he was ready for her. He held her jaw firmly and licked the seam of her mouth until she opened again. Then he pushed the ice cube from his mouth to hers.

“Suck it, Lily. Enjoy it.”

This time, without the element of surprise, she did as he commanded, rolling the cube in her mouth. A small trickle of water escaped to dribble across her chin. Her face split in a smile.

“Oh, that’s good.”

“I’m glad you like it. Would you like another?”

“Not yet. My mouth’s full…”

“Give it back to me.” He laid his mouth over hers again, and waited until she used her tongue to push the cube back between his lips. This time he gripped it between his teeth, and he started to move down her body.

Lily remained still, her mouth open, expecting the return of her ice cube. Ben grinned to himself, then bent to rub it against her stiff nipple.

“Oooh!” Lily shrieked.

Ben cupped her breast in his palm, squeezing the plump flesh as he pressed the ice more firmly against her peak. Lily writhed and squirmed.

“Stop, it’s cold. Oh, no, I don’t like it…”

Ben ignored her squeals and protests, transferring his attention to her other breast. After just a few moments, as though realising that he was not about to stop and she was helpless to evade his frigid touch, she quieted.

Ben continued the icy caress for a few moments more, moving from nipple to nipple, loving the way each peak swelled and lengthened, pebbling like sweet, hard berries under his ministrations. Satisfied, he sucked the fast-disappearing cube back into his mouth and moved back to return what was left of it to her mouth via a lingering kiss.

Lily chewed on the ice, splintering it between her teeth and swallowing the melting shards. Ben grinned.

“I have plenty more where that came from. Our little game’s nowhere near done yet. So, did you find that refreshing? Thirst-quenching?”

“Yes, Sir,” she acknowledged.

“Another, then?”

“In my mouth?”

“Now Lily, as if you had a choice…” As he spoke he retrieved another ice cube to hold it between his fingers. “Open wide then.” He popped it into her waiting mouth, then pulled another from the cup. “Now, what shall I do with this one?”

“Not my nipples, Sir. Please…”

“Wrong answer, Lily.” He traced the outline of her aureole slowly.

Lily arched, her nostrils flared as she fought to control her response, to remain still and permit this. Ben slowed the movement, the caress teasing, tormenting, increasing in intensity as he spiralled inwards to rub the ice over the crest of her nipple.

Lily hissed, her forehead furrowing. But she didn’t move.

“Good girl. I knew you could do this. Now, let’s try a little something else.” He turned to face her lower body, and deftly parted her labia with his fingers. Lily realised at once what he intended and let out another startled yelp but it was already too late. Ben slipped the small sphere of ice between her pussy lips. The edges were gone, the corners melted away. The wetness of the cube and her own juices served to ease the way and the ice slid into her waiting entrance. Ben paused, left it wedged between her lips, prising them apart.

“Oh, God, that’s… oh!” Lily twisted her upper body from side to side, but her ankles were held taut. Ben’s arm slung across her waist helped to anchor her. She was helpless.

“Hold still a moment, the shock will soon pass and it won’t feel as cold.”

“H-how long?”

“Soon. There, already. Better now, right?”

“I… suppose…”

“Good. Another, then.” It was a statement, not a question.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean this.” He inserted a second ice cube, also melted smooth in the cup. It nudged the first right inside, then lodged between her lips. Lily groaned, her lips flattening as she fought to process this new influx of sensation.

“Colour?”

“Yellow, Sir.” She answered without hesitation.

“Is it hurting?”

“No,” she squeaked. “Not hurting exactly. But it’s…”

“Intense?”

“Yes. Very.”

“One more, then I’ll lick them out of you. How would you like that?”

Lust warred with desperation. He watched her face, saw when she licked her lips, her brow furrowed, her nostrils again widening again as she contemplated her choice. Ben witnessed the struggle, loved the play of conflicting desires, emotions, responses, but he had no doubt what she would decide.

“One more, Sir. I… think I can do that.”

“I know you can.” He already had the cube between his fingers. It was the work of moments to ease it gently between her labia to nestle in her pussy with the others. He waited for a couple of minutes, taking the time to caress her chilled folds, tracing the outline of her cunt as he waited for her to accept his final, icy offering.

The stiffness eased from her body. She lay still, quiet, her surrender to the inevitable complete. And now, she awaited her reward.

“You’ve done well, Lily. I’m going to release your ankles, and you’ll lift up your knees and open your legs wide. As wide as you can.”

“Yes, Sir. Please…”

Now she was enthusiastic.

“Ah, such a sloppy, needy little slut. You need to come again. I think. Is that it?”

“Yes. Yes!”

“And you need to be fucked. Hard. Am I right?” He tugged on one of the ends of the scarf holding her right ankle and the knot came free at once. He undid the second just as easily.

“Yes, Sir. I’m a slut, and I need you to fuck me.” Lily was already lifting her knees to bring them up to her shoulders.

Ben moved to kneel between her legs and pushed his hands under her bottom to lift her up. He settled his face against her cunt, and drove his tongue deep into her entrance. The remnants of the ice were there, small slivers of hardness that melted almost instantly as his warm tongue came into contact. She was wet, strangely cool, and utterly delicious. He lapped at the sweet mix of chilled water and musky arousal, sucking hard to bring the flavours into his mouth.

“Oh, God, that’s wonderful. I can’t… please, I need to come. Now.”

“Come for me, Lily,” Ben growled. He had contemplated making her wait, but he had to be inside her now, his need almost as great as hers. As powerful shudders racked her body, he took advantage of the interlude to unfasten his jeans and shove them down around his hips. By the time she was still again, limp from her latest release, he was sheathed and ready. He drove his cock into her, hard, fast, balls deep.

Lily moaned, a sound of utter satisfaction. She raised her legs and clamped them around his waist, hooking her ankles together in the small of his back. Ben braced his forearms just above her shoulders, and he angled his hips to make each thrust count. He pounded her G-spot, merciless in his relentless assault on what was left of her senses.

He knew the instant she clenched in readiness for another orgasm, the climax uncurling from deep within her core. His own balls ached; he swore he had never been so full, so ready to detonate at the slightest twist or squeeze. And Lily did twist, she did squeeze. She went wild under him, rolling her hips from side to side and meeting his every thrust. She let out a keening cry and flung her head back, her mouth slack.

She was close, but not close enough. He couldn’t wait, couldn’t hold back…

“Come now. Fucking come now, girl.” He speared her, hard, his cock lurching violently inside her tight channel as his nuts contracted to send his semen jetting up and out to fill the condom. In the same instant Lily went rigid, her inner muscles spasming as her release overwhelmed her.

Ben was spinning, weightless. There was nothing else, his entire world narrowed down to those inches of flesh buried deep within the clenching, gripping embrace of Lily’s tight pussy.

He could die now, and he’d have no complaints. None whatsoever.

Making the Rules by Ashe Barker (1)

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

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