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He finished up his coffee and dropped the empty mug on the counter top, and I did the same to mirror him. And then we were stood, facing each other. So near and so far as our bodies felt each other’s heat but kept their distance all the way down.
I loved the sizzle. The tension.
The breaths that quickened and matched in time.
“I’m sorry I didn’t wear my uniform,” I said, but he shook his head.
“You never need to be sorry for anything you choose to wear,” he told me. “I love you however you choose to look for me. You will always be my beautiful girl.”
He was always so full of the right words at the right time, and it was always so natural. His eyes were always full of the emotion to match. The truth in his expressions.
It was just one of the many things I loved him so much for.
Our empty mugs matched on the counter top, side by side in their porcelain white. I couldn’t hold back my smile to see them there, such a tiny token that felt so right in this place.
I wished so much that our mugs could sit next to each other as a permanent fixture. Always two of them in the kitchen here. Always two of everything in the kitchen here.
He sighed a gorgeously dirty sigh as he closed the distance, and pressed his heat firmly against mine.
His finger tipped my face up to his, and I was so desperate for his lips I nearly jumped for them.
“I think we should start the pussy auction preparations upstairs,” he suggested with a dirty laugh. “I’ve heard my bedroom is very good for donations.”
“In that case, we definitely should,” I giggled.
I let out such a happy sigh as his lips pressed to mine, and my nerves were softer in my tummy today. Still there with the fluttering butterflies, but just that little bit quieter in their pulse.
Confidence.
It was confidence.
Confidence in my own skin. Confidence in my own wants. Confidence in him.
Confidence in how he wanted me, and confidence in how well he knew my body’s tune.
“Show me my gifts please, Mr Lindon,” I whispered, and it was my voice that was dirty today. “Show me my gifts, please, and I’ll show you yours.”
“They are some big fucking gifts I’ve got to give you, little girl,” he said, and his voice was dirty right back.
“I’m ready for them,” I told him.
And I was.Chapter Thirty-FourMilesShe was blossoming. My little girl’s wings were spreading into womanhood, and her confidence was blooming with every new day.
It was a true pleasure to behold. One that spread a huge sense of pride right through my chest.
Her innocence was still palpable. Still delicate. Still divine.
She was still a glorious little angel. Still my sweet Faith. Still my baby blue-eyed little sweetheart with a dirty twinkle in her smile.
But she was more. Slowly unfurling. Slowly finding herself. Slowly wanting so much more.
So much more that I wanted to give to her.
Fuck, how I wanted to give everything to her. Not least the huge fucking gifts awaiting upstairs.
She hitched herself up against me so naturally and wrapped her legs around my waist. We were eye to eye on the way upstairs, both of us so hungry for so much.
The days had been weeks. The want had been fierce. Yet this was just the beginning. Just a tiny little taster of the frustration we’d feel at saying goodbye.
“I’ve been waiting so fucking hard for this,” I told her, and she nodded.
“Me too,” she said. “I’ve been needing this so much.”
I dropped her onto the bed from quite a height this time, loving how she squirmed and scrambled. She spread her legs wide without being told, her fingers dipping down to wriggle her skirt up to her hips without prompting.
But today I wanted more.
I didn’t give her any warning before dropping right down alongside her and letting my fingers loose on her clothes. Her buttons were easy to pop open, her skirt zip easy to slide. I tugged the fabric off her, and she tried to help, but I stopped her. Pinned her hands flat to the bed and told her to let me enjoy the fun.
It was so much fucking fun, peeling her out of her wrapping paper and savouring the layers.
Her bra was such a joy to unclasp, tugging it away so gently from those perky little tits with their tender pink nipples. I pressed my mouth to the nubs one after the other and flicked my tongue so quickly. Quickly enough that she shuddered as the goosepimples sprung.
Her knickers were so damp that they clung to her thighs on the way down, and I loved that too. My mouth watered at the sight of the clammy trails. Her thighs begging so hard to be tasted. They were just ripe to be cleaned up with such long sweeps of my tongue.
