39. Faye
39
FAYE
Bash had stocked up his fridge whilst she’d been at work and thoroughly fed her on home made chow mein and not-so-homemade duck spring rolls. He’d offered up his bathroom – one of many – for her to use whilst he washed the dishes, since it was, quote, “the only one that you’ll need to use,” meaning she’d absolutely be sleeping in his bedroom tonight.
Her phone was blissfully on silent-mode, but she’d glanced at what messages there were: a couple from Ellie, a series of holiday photos from her father, and a request to video chat again soon from her mother. She should probably call tonight and tell her mum more about her Christmas with the Phillips-Dumonts than she’d been able to do in their quick video call on Christmas morning.
As that thought crossed her mind, she wondered sometimes what it’d be like to spend Christmas on the other side of the world, where Christmas was in summer and Santa rode a surfboard instead of a sleigh. She wondered if her dad and Ruth were just as bundled in hats, coats, and heavy woollen scarves in Norway as her, or if they’d acclimated to the bitter temperatures yet.
Faye showered and eventually made her way down to the ground floor, wondering how anyone was supposed to ever find anyone else in a house co ntaining five floors without some sort of walkie-talkie system.
In fluffy white socks, she padded through the reception hall to the kitchen, following the tinkering sound of glass. Each step filled her with more excitement than the last. There was no point in hiding what her body wanted right then. The hand that Bash slid back and forth over her thigh as they’d eaten, cross-legged at the coffee table, had done enough to set matches to the fuses of desire within her. She had no shame in showing it anymore.
Spotlights dim, the cream kitchen looked like a set from a regency drama, still true to time with its fittings. The aga alone could probably solve Faye’s heating dilemma all by itself. Herringbone hardwood floors, bespoke crown moulding. It was a home kitchen her baker’s heart would die for.
Clad in all black, t-shirt, and loose jogging bottoms, Bash cut a very alluring figure where he stood under spotlights with his back to her when she slowed in the doorway. The open tub of fancy vanilla bean ice cream, can of whipped cream and packet of fudge cubes gave away what he’d been doing with those tinkering glasses before he twisted and found her watching him.
He wasn’t subtle at all with how much his gaze dropped to the ribbed cream loungewear set she’d purposefully picked out for tonight. Even Faye could admit the wide-leg bottoms made her hips and ass look good, and that the square neckline of the cropped vest top did her chest a lot of favours. She could already picture the lustful lull in his eyes when he revealed what she wore underneath. It was a lot like how he looked at her then.
The dollop of ice cream on the spoon Bash gripped slid off onto the counter. And if that didn’t boost her confidence, what else would?
“Shower’s free,” she said as flirtily as she dared, even though there were other adequate bathrooms Bash could’ve used if he needed to.
“I had one after practice, earlier.” His head tilted and his eyes wandered over her hips and thighs again. He didn’t even seem to realise that the ice cream behind him had begun to melt. “I’ve never seen this before,” he said as his eyes wandered her outfit.
Faye moved herself beside him, leaning her hip against the cabinet and angling her body to give him the best, unobstructed view. “You’ve never seen what’s under it, either.”
Bash groaned as he closed his eyes like she’d wounded him. “You tease me, woman.”
“You’ve teased me for years and years, Bash. I’m just getting my revenge.” Faye took a swipe of the melting dollop of ice cream on the counter and popped her finger into her mouth, sliding it between her lips, keeping her eyes locked with Bash’s as he licked the seam of his mouth.
Damn , the vanilla bean tasted decadent as she sucked it off, much like a certain part of Bash that’d been between her lips twenty-four hours ago.
He scrunched his mouth in resistance of a grin. “I didn’t ask you to stay with me just so I can undress you. I hope you know that.”
So chivalrous.
“I know. But I still want you to.” Faye played with his lightly calloused fingers as she took his hand. The intensity in Bash’s eyes darkened. Captivated, her heart stuttered as her pulse worked its way lower through her body. “Shall we go upstairs?”
Gravel coated Bash’s throat. “No.”
Oh . Maybe she’d read a signal wrong. All of their previously hidden desires were more forthcoming now and Faye needed … she’d hoped …
Bash began to walk backwards, their joined hands making her follow him out from the kitchen area of the spacious room.
He tipped his chin towards his shoulder. “Sit on the table.”
Lips parting, a sizzle of excitement like a candle flicking off sparks lit between Faye’s thighs. She hadn’t read any signal wrong – Bash had just changed the game .
She knew what they headed towards; the promise of mind blowing and intimate sex wasn’t just something she had to hope for anymore, but she didn’t expect for it to begin here .
“What if it breaks?”
Bash’s mouth tugged down dismissively. “I don’t care.”
“It looks expensive.” Certainly solid wood and not some sort of laminate or veneer. Most likely handmade. Waiting for her to do as he said in the dining space where arched windows exposed them to his close-knit neighbours.
Bash’s half step drew him closer. “It’s worthless compared to you.”
Faye’s heart swept up into a beautiful feeling as if it glowed. The half-hooded gaze focussed down on her made her want to dissolve.
Knuckles grazed down her neck, swept her hair off of her shoulders then ran down her arm, leaving her skin prickling in their wake.
“ Everything, ” that low voice said, “is worthless compared to you.”
Well … fuck.
“Now, what will it be?” Bash asked her calmly, giving her no time to process.
The question didn’t require a thought. Hitching her breath at his flex in dominance, Faye hopped up on the edge of the dining table and her body jolted with the iciness of the surface.
Eye to eye, Bash stepped in between her knees and traced his hands up the inner of her thighs, opening her wider with such tender strokes that stirred the blissful ache deep down in her core.
This was the “other” Bash she’d been getting to know; the giving yet slightly demanding lover. Faye didn’t have a problem with him taking the lead in being physical so long as she could give as good as she got.
Yet when he smiled, he was soft again, much to her heart’s delight, and leane d in to claim her lips with passion that stole her breath.
One simple kiss, and every fibre within Faye was swept away and consumed by the warmth of Bash’s lips. Her body tingled in too many places to count. Need to be connected to him – more than just his hands on her hips dragging her forwards – gnawed inside of her as their kiss deepened and Bash’s tongue stroked her own.
Breathless, Faye lifted his t-shirt and they broke their kiss to throw it aside. She leant back to let her eyes get their fill of him, how his shoulders and arms were still tight from his tennis session. The low slung jogging bottoms teased the line of dark hair disappearing underneath them, with no elastic band of underwear in sight.
Amusement danced lazily across Bash’s face as he stood under her admiring spotlight, but he didn’t let her get lost in her lusty perusal for too long.
With his hand on one side of her waist and his other on her opposite hip, he added pressure and rolled her over. Faye yelped again at the cold shock of the table against her stomach, glad of the pure cotton shielding her risen nipples from the exciting jolt.
A low sound like thunder rumbled behind her. “Lift your hips up, mon amour .”
My love.
Arousal fizzled and spread through Faye, desperate for something to fill her up – satiate this endless need. In any other situation, she wouldn’t stand for being told what to do by a man, but there was something in the way Bash’s voice moulded her body to his plans that promised she’d be fulfilled.
Her toes still had purchase on the hardwood floor, enough for her to raise up and feel the soft velour of a dining chair cushion sliding under her pelvis.
God, she ached .
“I need you, Bash,” Faye groaned through sharp breaths, aware that sex on a table would be ticked off of her bucket list very soon.
Bash stroked down her back, from the base of her neck to the end of her spine. Faye couldn’t quite turn her head painlessly enough to see the hunger in his eyes she felt brandishing her skin.
“Need me, how ?” He drew out his question as if she didn’t balance on the edge of a knife – well, table – here. Teasing her when she was bent over so vulnerably was infuriating.
She was desperate. Thrilled, needy and desperate.
Her exhaled groan formed a cloud of condensation on the table, her cheek warming by the second where it was pressed flat. “I know you need me too, Bash. If you don’t drop those joggers right now I swear I’m going to reach back there and?—”
Bash chuckled a devilish rumble, cutting her off. “I’ve pictured fucking you on this exact dining table for years, Peanut. Let me have my moment.”
Laying on her stomach, Faye angled her hips up in the air to hopefully hurry his “moment” along. Leaving her writhing like this wasn’t fair.
Bash stopped staring and curled his fingers in the tight waistband around her middle, bringing the ribbed loungewear bottoms down to her knees and exposing all of the white lace she’d worn underneath.
“Fuck, Faye. You weren’t kidding.” The reverence in Bash’s voice filled her with femme fatale pride as the cold air of the kitchen hit her newly exposed thighs and the hot wetness between them. “You wore these for me?”
“Thought you might need something to give you an energy boost,” she said, “after this morning … ” Their plans to set off from Oxford had been delayed an hour the moment Bash had started skimming his fingers south along her body under the bed covers.
Palms brushed up the outer of her legs, like grazing her with the finest sandpaper, so much like they had done before breakfast .
“No, no Peanut,” Bash said deftly as his thumbs found the sensitive inner of her thighs. “I could fuck you all day.”
Hearing him move, Faye raised up on her forearms until her back touched his chest, his hips pressing against her with the solid length of his erection nestling between her ass cheeks. She’d come to not be startled by that feeling anymore – the awareness of his body against hers. And her awareness said that underwear definitely didn’t restrain him tonight.
She wiggled her hips to rile up that lovely, attentive cock of his and Bash pulled off of her with a muttered, “ Jesus, Faye. ” She loved hearing how much she tested the strength of his self-control. Loved being the one to give him this release to let go of inhibitions he’d held back for years.
His thumb dipped to her lace-covered entrance and her pulse surged through her veins. Groaning, Faye nudged herself back against him as he rubbed her through the triangle of fabric.
“Such a shame to ruin such pretty lace with how much you’re soaking it through, sweetheart.” That voice; ragged and sending a wave of pleasure through her body.
More talk like that. More of those words, please.
Bash’s thumb moving back and forth in broad flicks swept to her entrance and pressed flat against her, all the while Faye squeezed her closed eyes and clammed the pleading noises from escaping her throat. She was about to scramble together some sort of quip when?—
Shhhrrt.
She didn’t feel Bash’s touch at all any more, only threads and feather-like brushes of barely-there fabric falling down her legs.
“Did you just rip?—”
“I’ll buy you ten more.”
He. Did. Faye gasped with the burst of heat on her cheeks.
“Consider them a new year’s present.”
She should be pissed off – quality underwear wasn’t cheap and Bash had just torn one half of her brand new set like it was puff pastry.
Gaping over her shoulder at him, Faye only glimpsed the determined flare of fire in Bash’s eyes and wicked grin before he moved again, down to his knees. The next thing she knew, hands spread her gently apart and the heat of his breath licked as he latched his lips to her.
“Oh, god—Bash.” Spine arching, Faye threw her head back.
His soft mouth sucked her swollen clit while his tongue flicked across in the most mind-spinning sensation. Her knees wobbled and trembled with how Bash’s palms roaming over her hamstrings made her weak, and her hips sank into the cushion beneath her.
The warm, dim lights of the kitchen glazed askew.
Bash blew a wisp of air which clung to her exposed wetness. “So fucking perfect,” he muttered, giving Faye only a second to grasp some semblance of a breath before he swiped his tongue in a flat stroke to her entrance.
She cried out. The stimulation was too much. Too overwhelming. Her hands slipped against the wide table as she tried to grab any purchase at all.
Bash groaned as his tongue pushed inside of her, circling and taunting, the tell tale sound of fabric shifting as he drew his cock out. Faye pictured him there beneath the table in front of the vast windows – solid, perfect length in hand and fisting away at himself. She pictured herself on her hands and knees and the head of it teasing her entrance in shallow thrusts as he lined himself up behind her.
She remembered the sound from this morning of his thighs smacking against her ass, and that sound alone was enough to make her heart drum quicker.
She’d memorised how large Bash’s hands felt when they were wrapped around her body, veins protruding with his exertion as he pleasured her better than anyone had ever done before, memories enough to bring her right to the cusp of release .
“I’m gonna come,” she repeated, grasping at straws as her body cinched. “I’m gonna … ”
Choppy breaths roughened Bash’s strained voice. “The windows are coated, Faye, no one can see in. Now be a good girl and fuck yourself on my face.”
Faye thrust back and moved her core against his mouth as much as her reach on her toes would allow.
Bash ghosted a touch on her pulsing clit, and she was gone.
Her orgasm erupted in a high pitched cry, rippling and easing while her knees gave out and her body slumped on the table like a discarded coat. Thank god there was enough house to this house for none of the adjoining terraced neighbours to have heard her sobbing.
Hands held her and kept her safe from tumbling to the floor, so Faye lay for a moment savouring the random sparks of pleasure that lingered, until the table beneath her became too uncomfortable to rest on.
Pushing herself up, her legs were like a baby lamb’s as she used the edge of the table to turn and face Bash. He looked all too smug, swiping his tongue then his thumb over glistening lips, his face flushed enough for Faye to see how riled up he was as well. That redness spread down his neck and faded over his chest. She didn’t need to peek lower to find the rest of him ready to bend her over the table again, too.
“Satisfied?” he asked.
Faye’s thighs squirmed together to catch the start of her second wave of arousal.
Good sex gave her confidence. Incredible sex with Bash looking at her like this, like she was the one doughnut she would save for herself at the end of a long baking day, sent her to the moon.
“You said you’ve dreamt of fucking me on this table … ” Faye leaned closer until she felt the heat of Bash’s body caressing her skin like summer had come early. “So. Fuck. Me. ”
His broad chest drew in a sharp breath.
“ Bedroom ,” Bash managed, a streak of sympathy for her impatience passing in his tilted features. “I don’t exactly keep condoms in the kitchen, Peanut.”
Faye grabbed him by the erect outline of his cock beneath his jogging bottoms before he got any further.
Bash stilled, rightly. His stomach tightening at her hold.
Looking up in his eyes with ideas sprinting through her mind, she said, “Bring the whipped cream.”