Chapter 28: Chapter 28

James and Richard return, both smiling. “So,” says Richard. “Here’s where we are. My old associate is keen to get his cash. He’d like more, but he’ll settle for fast. Which means that if you two seriously would like to buy the mill, we’d better get the wheels turning before he has time to change his mind.”

He looks between us. “Yes?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Yes,” says Ryan. “But we’re all but on top of Christmas and I’ll need to set up an appointment with my bank to discuss a mortgage. They’ll no doubt want cash projections, surveys and who-knows-what else…”

Richard cuts him short. “Yes, of course they will. Which is why this is my suggestion instead. Let me push this through for you. I just wanted a chat with James here for an idea of how much work is going to be passing from my company to yours over the next year or so. That gives me something to work with to get a loan fast-tracked for you…”

“But…”

Richard breaks him off again. “Not to put too fine a point on it, if you go through normal channels, your case will be assessed by clerks and computers. The banks will demand so many checks and measures on you that they’ll effectively cripple you for the next five years. If I step in, I’ll side-step the… um…

lower echelons… and get an answer for you from the top. You’ll get a better deal and faster. What do you think?”

Michael cuts in. “Kirstie, Ryan. Why don’t the two of you join us for Christmas?”

Ryan blinks. I think I do too, at the apparent change in subject. “For Christmas dinner you mean?”

“That too,” smiles the big, blond man, “But what I meant was, stay over the holiday. Go home now, pack yourself a suitcase for a few nights, then stay with us over the period. That way you get a good holiday and you’re right where you need to be if you need to talk with Richard. Or if he needs to talk to you.”

I’m torn between excitement and reality. “I can’t do that, Michael. It would be great, but I can’t just leave my dogs.”

Michael waves airily. “Oh, bring the dogs along…” James’ head swivels his way. Michael ignores it. “As you said, they loved it here. And Scruffy will enjoy the company too.”

*****

Two Days Before Christmas For the second time in two days we pull up at the Threesome’s…

Fivesome’s?

… home, this time with my Gang of Four in the back, howling enthusiasm as they realise where they are; yapping, barking and baying demands to be let out right now.

The door opens to Michael... “Ah, that’s great,” he says. “You made it…” Then he stands back hastily as my Gang barge past him in a hairy, slobbering crowd into their old ‘home’. “Looks like they remember where they are…” he laughs.

“And are pleased to be here too.” I kiss his cheek. “And thank you so much for this.”

“It’s a pleasure, Kirstie, to be able to help. And you too Ryan. We were worrying you might be beaten by the snow.” He cranes out, scanning the sky. “You got here just in time, I’d say. The forecast says there’s going to be a heavy fall tonight and by the look of those clouds, it’s on the way.”

Even as he speaks, a fat snowflake drifts down, lying on the cold ground like the most delicate of lace.

A moment later it is joined by another. And another.

“Get yourselves inside,” continues Michael. “I’ll show you your room and you can get settled in.”

“Where do you want these?” Ryan hefts his armful of parcels. I display my bags of bottles, cake and a hastily purchased party-pack for a dozen people.

“Just put them on the side for now. We’re still in mid-decorate. The parcels can go under the tree later when we’ve got it all together.” He leads us upstairs. “I made up the Green Room for you.” His face is suspiciously straight as he opens the door, then steps back, letting us enter first.

Oh, my God...

The room is lovely; brightly lit from wide windows which overlook the slopes down the mountain. A fire burns in the red-tiled hearth, throwing out a radiant glow as logs drop to ashes.

But inexorably, I am drawn to what takes up most of the room: an enormous four-poster bed.

Ryan's eye dance.

What a Merry Christmas…

Michael’s voice is bland, but behind the facade, laughter bubbles as he points across to another door.

“That’s the en-suite through there. I believe James will be laying out a buffet in a couple of hours. So, take your time, freshen up and…” His eyes twinkle… “…get yourselves comfortable. We’ll see you downstairs when you’re ready.”

As he exits, he drops me a wink.

Ryan stands by the bed, tracing fingers over the posts, dark timber, carved into heavy twists. His gaze shifts sidelong to mine. “I don't know about you, but I call that hospitality.”

“So do I.”

Before my eyes, he shifts from Lover to Dom. Chin lifting, he takes off his jacket. Despite the travel, his shirt is still crisp, the linen unwrinkled. His hands apparently working independently of his eyes, he slides his tie from the collar, holding it loosely in his hands. The ends dangle, swaying with his breathing. “Kirstie, I wish you to remove your clothes.”

I see it in his eyes. In his mind, I am already naked for him. The action merely underlines his thoughts. I slip off my boots then turn to face away, sweeping my hair to one side, allowing him access. Between my shoulders, the fabric tugs as he slips the single top button open then slides down the tab of the zipper.

He doesn’t hurry, my Lover, my Master; gliding down, inch by inch, tooth by tooth, until the dress falls open and he slides it over my hips and down. Stepping out of it, I hear the soft rustle as he picks it up, folding it neatly to lie over a chair. Standing straight, knowing what he enjoys, what he wishes from me, I wait until I feel the tug and pull of his touch on the catch of my bra. As it unfastens, he slips the straps from my shoulders, leaving me in nothing but my panties.

“Turn around and give me your wrists.”

As I face him, he is already holding up his tie. “Do I bind you to the bar…” His eyes cast up to the top post of the bed… “Or will you hold it yourself?”

“I’ll hold it.”

My arms raised, fingers curled around the top bar, I stand, wearing nothing but the black lace and silk panties. Despite the heat radiating from the fire, my skin prickles.

Ryan moves close behind me, the fabric of his shirt and jacket tickling over my naked spine. One palm resting on my shoulder, he brushes my hair away with the other, opening his mouth over the crook of my neck to shoulder, biting softly. His palms curve around my waist, to right and left, stroking over the slight curve of my stomach. Then gliding down, they ease into the crease of stomach to thigh.

Fingertips slide under the flimsy fabric of my panties, smoothing over the skin. Tangling into my curls, circling and spiralling, the fingers coil into the hair which grows warmer and damper by the moment. My lungs shudder and behind my ribs, my heart thumps faster.

He presses tight against me to the rear, his shaft hard through his clothes, pushing against me. My pussy flutters, growing warm and fluid…

I want you…

I want you inside me…

The fingers slide down and inwards. He whispers, “Open your legs further.”

Obediently, I shuffle my feet wider, cool air flowing over my exposed sex as I do so.

Your fingers over my clit…

Rubbing and teasing…

Penetrating me…

But he doesn’t penetrate me.

He doesn’t do any of that.

His fingertips slide between my thighs, teasing around my sex but not touching.

He strokes over my labia with a fingertip. “You want me to finger-fuck you?” Then, shifting the fingertip, he grazes over the tip of my clit. Electricity sparkles through me and I jolt, but the finger has gone.

I swallow. “Yes, I do.”

He nuzzles into my neck. “I’m not going to, Kirstie. Not yet.” The fingers return, rubbing over hot slippery skin and I pulse inside, but they approach no closer than the fine soft skin of my inner thigh where it folds towards my lips “Oh, God… Ryan… Master…”

“Shhh… I'm not going to fuck you now.” He withdraws one hand entirely, trailing a fingertip between my breasts. “You must wait.” Finger and thumb tweak at a nipple and arousal skitters down through me. “I know what you want. But you will appreciate it all the more when you have had the opportunity to think on it for a few hours.”

He squeezes at the nipple, then twists, to the point of pain. “Later, I will bend you over the bed, push my cock inside you and shaft you ‘til you scream…” My pussy gushes, pumping hot down my thighs…

“… but for now, it remains inside your head… And mine.”

I’m shuddering uncontrollably, my knees buckling, and I grip the rail just to remain upright. “Ryan, you can't do this to me.”

He chuckles. “Oh, but I can, Kirstie. We both know that by now. I can do whatever I want with you. And always, you will enjoy it.” Abruptly, he steps away from me, leaving chill air wafting over my spine and buttocks.

“You may take a shower now. And change into some comfortable clothes.”

*****