Another Chance by Portia Da Costa

Author:Portia Da Costa
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Spice
Published: 2011-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

Afterward we lie as if in shock, beached after the tidal wave of mutual pleasure. At first I’m too stunned to work out why it’s so difficult to breath, but then William lifts himself off me and I realize that his solid muscular body was squashing me. He apologizes and hefts us around on the bed until we’re lying side by side, heads on the pillows at last.

Even though William does the typically male thing, and appears to drift off into a light doze, I remain wakeful. Which is new for me. After sex I usually feel sleepy, too, but tonight I feel energized, alert yet peaceful, monitoring the effects of what’s just happened to my body.

It’s like I’ve done a stringent but satisfying workout. I ache here and there, but I’m glad of it. My bottom and thighs are sore, but not as sore as they might have been if William hadn’t known precisely what he was doing. He’s clearly one of those supreme men who can spank and punish in just the right way, so that the twinges and the pain and the marking are minimal in the aftermath.

I can’t believe I’ve been so lucky as to find him like this. Who would have thought it? Not only are my temporary employers practitioners of the arcane arts of erotic punishment, but there’s even a master for me on the premises.

Dangerous thoughts begin to drift around the periphery of my consciousness. But best not to latch onto them. I’ll be gone soon. And he’ll still be here.

But just for a second or two, I think about a job I saw advertised in a professional journal, then I dismiss it. People don’t change their entire lives on the basis of one night, and William Graves is a solitary man, I sense, and probably wants to stay that way.

As if he’s read my thoughts while he slept, his eyes suddenly flick open, and instantly he’s awake. Jeff used to be like that, from a need to be battle ready, I suppose, and it only adds to my impression that William might have been a soldier, too.

“I could really fancy a cup of tea. How about you?” he says without preamble, sitting up. His eyes are mild as he looks at me, and he seems completely comfortable that I’m here. There’s no sense of him putting on a performance to impress me. He’s just being himself, no airs and graces, and I like that far more than if he’d suddenly told me I was beautiful, or sung lyrical praises of how good it felt to fuck me.

“I’d love one. Tea would be brilliant, thanks.”

“Okay. Tea it is.” He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek, and smooths back a few stray curls that have escaped my plait, then springs up with incredible lightness for a man so large, and reaches for a robe. In a couple of seconds he’s disappeared, heading for the kitchen.

When he’s gone, I still lie here, glancing idly around.

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