Chapter 7 - West
Seven
West
Perhaps, to an outside observer, this would seem rushed.
Maddy and I have only exchanged a handful of kisses, after all, and in fact we only spoke for the first time yesterday.
Rationally, as I lay back on the bench and analyze this turn of events, the black silky fabric of Maddy’s housemaid uniform sliding over my throat, I do see that this is ill advised.
After all, how would this look? An older man and his virgin employee. A few kisses and then jumping straight to having her straddle my face. The press would have a field day, and I’d find myself torn apart in the headlines.
I know that, fully sensing the danger I’m in, and yet I could no sooner freeze time or reverse gravity than I could disappoint Maddy in this moment. It’s unthinkable.
Because she’s nibbling that plump bottom lip and gazing down at me, cheeks flushed.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly beneath her black dress, and her fingers tremble where she holds the skirt aloft.
She needs me, and I haven’t been needed in a long, long time.
Every primal instinct in my brain, every cell in my body, are all in agreement: this woman should be worshiped.
“You’re wet already,” I murmur, my lips so close to her panties that they nearly brush the fabric.
It’s the same shade of periwinkle blue as the scarf she wore last night, apart from the darker damp patch in the center.
The heat emanating from her core washes over my cheeks and chin, as warm and humid as the rest of the greenhouse air.
“Did you touch yourself last night, Maddy? After we kissed, did you make yourself come?”
My gravelly voice rumbles up from my chest. Birds cheep nearby, and water gurgles, but really it’s like we’re on our own planet. My palms stroke up and down the backs of her thighs, and Maddy shivers above me, pressing back into my touch. Like she can’t get enough either.
“Yes.”
Her answer is bold. Defiant. My mouth tugs up in response, and her eyes sparkle with amusement as she watches me exhale against her panties.
“Is that what you wanted to hear?” Maddy says. “That I went back to bed and touched myself, thinking of you?”
My neck cranes up, and I press my hum of agreement against the soft heat of her pussy, barely muted by the cotton. Maddy gives a breathy giggle, shifting her weight back and forth, as I murmur, “Of course.”
She tuts. “Such an arrogant lord.”
I shrug one shoulder, stroking one hand around the inside of Maddy’s bare thigh to tease at the edge of her panties.
Is it arrogance if you don’t expect it as your due?
If you only hope, and yearn, and then nearly buckle with desire when it’s confirmed that yes, your beautiful housemaid wants you too?
After all, I took myself in hand last night and thought of only Maddy, Maddy, Maddy. Her weight in my lap and her scent in my lungs. The glint of firelight on her hair, and the teasing lilt of her voice as her fingertips scratched the back of my neck.
I left that study a changed man, and in the privacy of my en suite shower, I came so hard that white static filled my brain. Is it so big-headed to hope that I had even a fraction of that impact on her?
Maddy makes a tiny choking sound as I hook her panties to one side, my breath finally wafting against her bare, glistening slit.
When I suck in a hungry breath, I can taste her already.
The salty-sweet tang of her. Christ, I want to bathe in it; want to rub her essence over my whole fucking body before sinking her tight sheath onto my cock.
This woman is rewriting my DNA in real time. So yes, perhaps we’re rushing things…
But even now, if I go another second without her on my tongue, I will keel over and die.
“Is it… okay?” Maddy asks, nerves making her voice wobbly as I lean up and rub the tip of my nose against her clit. My hands grip her ass cheeks, spreading and kneading, then urge her to step an inch closer.
Yes.
With Maddy finally standing directly over me, her soft thighs bracketing my head, I can lose myself completely in her body. My delighted groan drifts up between us, answering her question without words before I lunge up and lick a stripe up her slit.
Maddy yelps, swaying in my hold, her whole body jerking at the sensation, and she’s panting now. The heat of her is searing on all sides, the taste of her decadent on my tongue.
Madeleine Price is a miracle of nature. As perfectly designed as any desert cactus or alpine moss. I’m reverent.
“West,” Maddy gasps as I lap at her, groaning, my grip tight on her ass, and I nod and keep going. “Oh my god. Oh my god. That feels so—oh God. West.”
The sounds I make are primal. Beastly. The slurping, the smacking, the pained grunts and ragged moans: they all echo in my ears, caged with me by Maddy’s soft thighs. I’ve never heard myself like this; don’t recognize my own desperation, and yet I can hear it, clear as day.
It would be alarming, if I weren’t so dazed.
“Your—your beard.” Maddy’s laugh is giddy, breathless, and her hips are moving now. Riding my chin. “It’s tickly.”
I nod, craning my neck to spear my tongue past her entrance before crashing back onto the bench. “I’ll shave this evening,” I rasp, already leaning back up to keep going.
“No,” Maddy says quickly, “don’t. I like you like this. It’s a good kind of tickly.”
I pause between licks. “Alright.”
Whatever she likes. Whatever Madeleine Price prefers, that’s what she’ll get. For years now, I’ve been so aimless, lost in grief with nothing but shame, regret, and my own disorganized notes to drive me, but finally, finally, I have a new sense of purpose.
And it’s right here, laughing and moaning above me, legs quaking on either side of my face. Is there anything I wouldn’t give my housemaid in this moment?
Latching onto the bud of her clit, I give a long, steady suck.
Maddy tilts her head back and wails at the canopy.
In the end, I don’t know how long I lie there, worshiping her tight little body.
It could be minutes, it could be an hour.
On the one hand, Maddy came to me already quivering like a taut string, just waiting to be plucked—and on the other, when I finally collapse back against the bench for the final time, my cheeks and nose glossy with her slickness, my neck muscles ache and my shirt clings to my lower back with sweat.
I’m breathing hard, my cock an insistent, miserable throb, and Maddy’s final cries echo in my ears.
My housemaid lurches away from the bench on the wobbly legs of a baby deer. She drops her dress at last, the black fabric swishing down, but it can’t fully cover the wet sheen of arousal coating both her inner thighs.
The world tilts as I struggle upright, the press of my cock against my zipper like leaning on a bruise.
A bird flaps between vines overhead, and the mini greenhouse waterfall gurgles nearby, water coursing over mossy rocks, oblivious to the fact that my insides are scraped raw.
I scrub my face on my shirtsleeve, cleaning up as best I can.
And then I stare at the back of Maddy’s head, dry-eyed, waiting for her to turn around. Her braid is in disarray, and her white lacy collar has flipped up on one side. Her face is buried in her hands, and she’s muttering to herself, though I can’t make out the words.
When she finally spins to face me, hands dropping, my shoulders unknot in relief.
Madeleine is glowing, practically levitating off the paved path with satisfaction, and her smile is wide.
Her hips sway cheekily as she strides back to the bench and flops down beside me.
I shift over a few inches, giving her more room.
No need to crowd the woman. Even if I want to spend every last minute of my life plastered against her, skin to skin, even if I can’t stop wetting my lips to taste her again, that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be polite.
“Thank you, Maddy.”
She bursts out laughing, shaking her head, and bumps my shoulder with her own. Every tiny moment of contact, I treasure.
“You’re nuts, your lordship.”
My cheeks ache as I smile, and I can still smell her salty-sweet tang. It’s saturated my beard, and I’ve never been so reluctant to wash again in my life. “I mean it.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” She scoffs. “I haven’t even…” Maddy trails off, eyeing the bulge in my trousers like it’s an unpredictable wild animal. “Um. Should I—?”
“Not today.” Even though my body is screaming out for her touch, I shake my head firmly.
This has been plenty for one day, especially given Maddy’s lack of prior experience.
And when she touches me in return for the first time, I want it to be because she craves it.
Not out of a misplaced sense of obligation. “Another time, perhaps.”
Maddy hums happily, swinging her feet beneath the bench. Over on the paved path, my cane lies abandoned where we must have knocked it. As though in retribution, my thigh clenches with a lightning bolt of pain. I clench my teeth, swallowing back a hiss.
“This is so crazy.” Maddy’s chattering happily now, smoothing down her dress and fixing her collar. “I can’t believe I have to go and, like, vacuum the dining room after that. Can’t believe I’m screwing my boss. That’s so wild.”
“You could take the rest of the day off,” I suggest mildly, smoothing down my own shirt and waistcoat. They’re completely ruined, of course, and there’s nothing to do except limp back to my quarters, shower, and change. “I have a sneaking suspicion your employer will let you off the hook.”
Take the day off with me, I want to say, but the words die in my throat. There’s a long pause, like Maddy’s waiting for the invitation, but I clam up. Offering this young woman pleasure is one thing, but what else do I have to give her?
What else could we possibly have in common? She’d hardly enjoy my piles of dusty notes and ancient plant samples, and for the last eight years, those have been my whole life.
For a sickly moment, my small, barren world is thrown into stark relief. I shift against the bench and clear my throat, hot with embarrassment, but Maddy smooths over my awkward silence.
“Oh, I could never do that,” she says, tugging out her hair tie and quickly unweaving her ruined braid.
When she runs her hands through her loose waves, the scent of her shampoo washes over me.
Coconut. Another food ruined for life. “Play favorites like that, I mean. Mrs Ainslie would give me such a look. Can you imagine?” Maddy snorts, rebraiding her hair with expert fingers.
“Mr Jenkins, too. No, this has to be top secret.”
She turns and gives me a faux-stern look, and I draw a small cross over my chest in response. “Cross my heart, Madeleine.”
“Good.” Maddy grins and hops up, her black dress fluttering around her thighs, and stretches her arms overhead. “‘Cause I was hoping to stay here at least until the spring, and if everyone finds out we’re hooking up, that could get super awkward.”
I nod along, but my heart is a leaden stone, sinking to the bottom of my chest.
The spring? Already the days are getting longer, with sunshine chasing away winter’s chill. When does spring officially begin? How much longer do I have with this girl?
“Of course. I will be the soul of discretion.”
Maddy beams, leaning in to where I’m still sitting stupidly on the bench for a long, deep kiss. Can she taste herself on my lips? I tilt my head, frowning into the kiss, dragging it out for as long as she’ll let me. My hands come up to cup her face, holding her close as her tongue strokes mine.
When Maddy finally breaks away and steps back, she’s flushed again, eyes bright. Her thighs squeeze together beneath her dress, and I know instinctively that if I tugged her close and leaned back on the bench again, she’d happily straddle my face for a second time.
Tempting. It’s shamefully tempting, but I clear my throat and let her go instead, swatting Maddy’s ass as she turns away and smirking at her laugh.
There’s already so much to process. And besides, if she wants to keep this secret, we can’t spend hours together, just waiting to get caught.
I’ve promised Maddy I’ll be discreet.
For however long I have her.
…Fuck.