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“I’m going to fuck you raw and hard,” he warns me, his hand trailing slowly up my thigh, tickling as he gets closer and closer to my eager sex. “I’m going to pound you until you start squirting all over my cock. Is that what you want, Sadie? Say it.”
My mind flashes – the flames dance – and then I’m bent over the chair I’m sitting on.
I imagine myself looking over my shoulder to see him stroking his manhood, which is massive in my illicit fantasy, a huge throbbing length of flesh he brings to my naked sex. He strokes it up and down, teasing me. I feel his precome smearing across my goose-pimpled flesh and then—
“Sadie?” Fiona says, tugging me from my thoughts.
I look up and she’s standing over me, offering me a mug.
“Oh, thanks,” I say, taking it from her.
She returns to her chair and folds herself into a cross-legged position, her black hair falling down to her shoulders. She tilts her head at me in that perceptive way she has. That look is part of the reason we became so close so quickly, I think, the way we’re able to push aside all the awkwardness and just click.
And now what? Do I think I’m going to click with her father?
I tell myself firmly no, just because these crazy thoughts and instincts are flurrying around inside of me, doesn’t mean I have to act on them. Maybe this is one scenario where my natural shyness with boys – men – will act to my advantage. Because I’d never, in a million years, approach Saul and try anything with him.
“Are you alright?” Fiona asks.
Beneath her voice, I can hear the subtle intonation that tells me she’s asking about my parents’ deaths. They died around this time of year and she knows I can get emotional about it.
“I’m fine,” I say. I lie. “I guess I’m just tired.”
“Yeah, me too,” Fiona says, still with that look aimed at me. “Shall we head up?”
“Sure, sounds good to me.”
Fiona kills the fire and then we head upstairs, Jasper loping behind Fiona as she casually strokes him behind the ears.
I can’t help but feel awed by the majesty of this property. It seems every wall holds a gorgeous painting, a suit of armor, or some other artifact—a Viking-style shield, countless swords and daggers and maces and other types of old-timey weapons whose names I don’t know.
I want to ask Fiona why he’s decorated the house like this, but the idea that she’ll be able to see through my question to the traitorous lust beneath stops me. Instead, we say our goodnights and I walk into the room I will be staying in for the duration of our winter break.
I gaze around it, the awed feeling not waning even for a moment.
The room is huge, with a high ceiling and a four poster bed. Tapestries hang from the walls, catching the imitation-fire lights that flood every corner with their soft orange glow. The French windows look out upon the garden, crusted with snow and ice. Even the radiators look ancient, big black iron things that fill the space with an infusive cheek reddening heat.
I walk over to the bed and lie down, taking out my cellphone and mindlessly scrolling through Facebook, mindlessly watching videos on YouTube … mindlessly doing anything, really, so that I don’t have to think about Saul and the iron dust in his hair, the way his eyes always move around me.
Like he hates me.
An absurd amount of time passes with me doing nothing on my phone, hours ticking by as I scroll and watch.
Really I’m someplace else, a cage in my mind which I can’t break out of, which I don’t want to break out of if I’m going to be bluntly honest with myself.
Saul atop me, pressing down on me with his fine-honed muscles, my hands running through his black-silver hair and then down over his back, feeling how hard and tight every muscle is, feeling his manhood brushing up between my thighs and …
No, stop. This is wrong.
My hand is between my legs now, stroking my clit through the fabric of my underwear.
I turn back to my phone—the battery dead now, as though some twisted force wants me to do this.
To imagine Saul in my bedroom, standing wreathed in shadow at the end of the bed, looking me up and down and liking what he sees.
“Bend over for me now and show me that fucking cunt,” he growls, a savage beast. “Reach back and pull your ass cheeks apart. Make your pussy wink for me, Sadie. Do it now. Before I punish you. Before I spank you for taking too long. Before I …”
I bolt upright and yank my hands from my underwear, letting out a shivering breath as I climb to my feet and head for the bedroom door.
