- RACHEL

 

I WOKE UP TO the mother and father of all hangovers. I opened my eyes and immediately shut them again. He was next to me in the bed, fast asleep, his eyes closed, his lips moving as if he was talking in his dreams. He was next to me. He had slept next to me. Had we...?

I thought hard, not easy to do with my brain trying to climb out of my skull. The light was too bright. Why weren’t my eyelids thicker? I shoved a pillow over my face to make it darker. Last night. What happened last night?

We’d arrived at the hotel. I wanted him so badly after Chatsworth. To think of who I’d become. If anyone had said to me before I came here that I’d be in a public place, tied to a bed where anyone might come in, my ass on show, my panties gone. Him smacking my buttocks with a riding crop and the only shocking part was how much I loved it. I had pretended not to but he could see through the façade of respectability I still tried to portray. And then we had come so close to being caught.

We’d been in the car. We’d got to the hotel and then? It hit me. It was like a film with missing scenes. I could see the message from my parents. One drink, then talking. I had more drinks. I was slurring my words and then up in the room. I asked him to fuck me. I tried to kiss him. What did he do then? I had begged him for sex. Actually begged him.

He’d put me to bed. That was it. He’d wrapped me up in the blankets like I was a little kid who couldn’t handle her booze and he was right. He was the parent tapping me on the head and telling me to get some sleep. He must have dozed off next to me.

I was not looking forward to him waking up. He’d no doubt mock me for what I’d done. I cringed as I shuffled upwards in the bed. I didn’t want to move but I needed water. My throat felt like I’d been wandering through the Sahara for about a month. I needed a drink. Not alcohol though, I never wanted to have that again.

I slid out of the blankets and stood on my feet, letting the waves of dizziness fade away, my eyes still shut. I tried looking again but it was still too bright, the daylight through the curtains were tiny spears of evil poking my retinas. I shuffled to the bottles of water in the fridge, groping inside, getting one out and gulping down the contents so fast, drips ran down my chin and onto my chest.

“Good morning.”

I looked across at the bed. He was sitting up, topless, smiling at me. I nodded a slight response. “I’m so sorry.”

“What for?” he replied, climbing out of bed. I felt disappointed he still had his boxer shorts on. Even hungover, the part of me that needed him was well awake, wanting another view of that magnificent thing that had been buried in my throat and come so close to sliding into me. I shuddered as the thought flashed across my mind. Me tied down on my front, the rigid tip of him sliding between my thighs, so close to being in me before we had to run for it.

“Breakfast?” he asked, breaking into my reverie.

“Shower then breakfast.”

“I better help you shower. You look unsteady on your feet.”

“I don’t think I need help.”

“It wasn’t a request.” His voice was cold and he was already crossing the floor to me. “Come on.” He took my hand, leading me into the bathroom, switching on the shower. “Get undressed.”

“I think I’ll be fine now.”

“I’m not leaving until you’re clean. Get naked or I rip those pretty clothes off you. Your choice.”

“You’re serious?”

He nodded. I looked down at his boxer shorts, seeing the bulge in them. I so wanted to see that again. The sight made the decision for me. I started to undress. I felt dirty from having slept in my clothes but I felt even dirtier as I took them off, my body coming into view in the daylight, no way of hiding my flaws.

When the last item fell to the floor, I folded my arms across my chest, feeling his stare burning into me as he nodded towards the shower. “In you get.”

I stepped into the warm water as he picked up a bottle and squirted a portion onto a soft wash cloth. “Face me,” he said and I did as he said without thinking. “Arms out.”

I pointed my hands towards him and he ran the cloth gently over them.

The next few minutes were something I never forgot. They were the most erotic of my life and a complete awakening for me. I went from hoping I could be with him to needing to be with him. I ached for him, for his touch all over my body. He did nothing overtly sexual and it drove me wild. The cloth ran over my neck, down my chest, brushing over my rock hard nipples and then down further.

There was the briefest moment between my legs when I could have sworn he used his finger instead of the cloth but then the moment was gone. Down my legs to my feet and then turning me around, working his way back up, sliding between my buttocks, still tender from the punishment he’d meted out to me yesterday. Then up and then all too soon it was over. I felt as if I hadn’t taken a breath the entire time.

“Out you come,” he said. “Let me dry you.”

The towel running over my body made me wild with need, the feel of it between my legs, his hand so close to me but not touching me. “Now we get some breakfast,” he said. “Unless you want to get dressed first?”

He watched me dress. I deliberately didn’t wear panties again. Something inside me thought that was the magic charm, the thing that turned me from shy to slut, to the woman I wanted to be. Confident, in charge of her sexuality, able to drive this brute of a man wild with emotions he didn’t know he had.

I knew he wanted me. The sight of his bulge as he dressed was enough of a sign. I hadn’t been brave enough to ask in the shower. I told myself it was the hangover. I wasn’t feeling good enough. That wasn’t true and I knew it. I wanted him to just take me. I didn’t want to need to ask. Asking like last night just made me cringe especially as he seemed in much better control of his lust than I was.

I was still tingling as we ate breakfast, feeling his hands all over my body as if I was naked. I ate little.

Afterwards we set off on the long drive down to Cornwall to the site of one of my favourite books, Jamaica Inn. The heroine moves to live with her aunt and uncle, a villainous rogue. Her rescue comes from within and from without, part her own strength and part the love interest.

That was one of my dreams. Being rescued from peril by a hero who isn’t all he seems, rough exterior but gentle underneath, capable of soft kisses and tearing clothes off. I wondered what Greg had in store for me there after our Chatsworth adventure.

I dozed off at one point during the drive, dreaming of being in Jamaica Inn, trapped by the villains, rescued by Greg on horseback, taking me back to his hovel on the moors, throwing me on his bed and saying I belonged to him, no one else. His body naked above me and…

I woke up so turned on, before my eyes opened my hand was on his leg, gently stroking him as he drove.

“You should take a break,” I said, looking at the time. “We’ve been going half the day.”

“You’re probably right,” he replied.

A couple of miles down the road he pulled off into a layby. I climbed out and stretched my legs. “I need to pee,” I said. “Any chance of stopping at some services?”

“Just do it here,” he replied.

“I’m not an animal. I don’t just squat on the roadside.”

“There’s a field. There’s a load of trees. No one will see.”

“But-”

“Do it now or we set off and don’t stop until we get there. I’ve got a schedule to keep to.”

His voice scared me enough to make me obey him. It was a strange kind of fear, half terror, half arousal and it wasn’t something I really understood. I crossed to the hedge and ducked behind it, hearing the cars on the road but unable to see them through the thick foliage. I squatted down and peed, something I’d never done outside before.

When I was done, I felt weirdly as if I’d achieved something, doing something scary and new. I returned to him and saw him watching me closely. Turning away, I bent as if to tie my shoe, giving him a glimpse up my skirt to my bare ass. When I turned around again I was rewarded by a hungry expression on his face.

“Bend over that seat,” he said, “hands on there.”

“Why?”

“Just do it. Girls who flash get punished.”

“But the cars going past. They’ll see.”

“Let them see. Do it or I make you.”

I bent over, leaning in through the open car door, my ass once again exposed. He walked to the trunk of the car and was out of sight for a moment before returning with something in his hand.

The first spank hit me out of nowhere, his free hand stinging my ass and making me yelp with mingled surprise and pain. “Ouch,” I blurted out as he spanked me again and again, each blow stronger than the last. My nerve endings woke up, my body on fire, my mind torn between desire and shame as one car after another drove past. Could they see me? Could they tell what was happening?

“You’ve been a bad girl,” he said. “Haven’t you?”

“Yes, Greg. I was a bad girl.”

“Pull your buttocks apart, I want to see your hole.”

I did as he asked, head on the seat, ass in the air, feeling his eyes on me and then something else, something cold and wet and hard. “What’s that?” I asked.

“A plug. You’re going to keep it in you until I say so. Is that clear?”

“Will it hurt?”

“Maybe a little. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly.”

I inhaled and then held it, exhaling as gently as I could, feeling the hard tip of the plug pressing against my ass. It did hurt, pushing its way into me but then I felt a dull heaviness and fullness that wasn’t pain or pleasure, just something mingling the two together. “You can stand up,” Greg said.

“Will it fall out?”

“Nope, it’s not going anywhere until I say so. Now back in the car and let’s get going.”

I climbed into the seat, feeling the plug move deeper into me as I sat down. I couldn’t help but let out a strained moan. “It hurts,” I said. “Can I take it out yet?”

“You can take it out when you’ve come,” he said as he started the engine and pulled back onto the road.

“Please.”

“No begging. When you come it can be removed and not until then.”

“But-”

He took hold of my hand and moved it between my legs before letting go. “Your choice,” he said, glancing down and then back at the road.

The rumbling of the car made the plug vibrate inside my ass and the pain became something else, something that made it easy for my fingers to start moving of their own accord, stroking my clit gently, getting myself wet as I became more excited. Greg kept glancing down at me so I eased my hips in his direction, giving him a clear view as I closed my eyes and lost myself in the moment, returning to the dream I’d so recently woken from.

I was on the bed, he was looming over me, his cock thrusting into me as I pushed a finger in and moaned again, my breathing growing heavier. The plug made everything so much more intense, as did knowing any passing cars might catch a glimpse of me. It felt so naughty but I also felt perfectly safe next to Greg, knowing he’d protect me from any harm.

“When we get to the inn, I’m going to fuck you,” Greg said and those words made me melt. Another minute and I came, my fingers a blur on my clit, my body shaking as I pictured him inside me, how good it would feel.

“Oh fuck,” I muttered out loud. “I’m coming.”

“Come for me,” he replied. “I want you to be loud. I want you to be my slut.”

“I’m yours,” I replied, my orgasm still tearing through me. “I need you in me.”

“Soon,” he said with a rumbling laugh. “Have patience.”

“I’m sick of having patience,” I replied, fumbling for his zipper.

He batted my hand away. “You can take the plug out now.”

“I might leave it in. If that’s okay?”

His grin widened. “You really are full of surprises.”