His Lordships Daughter (10 page)

“Fear is all in the mind.” Phyllipa
murmured
. With her long fingers, aware of shivering excitement gearing up her own pleasure zones, she stroked down his face, tracking the sides of his strong chin, tractoring downwards and under, before meeting the top of his muscular neck. Pushing his face downwards, Steven attempted to trap and kiss them, but they had gone, moving upwards and inwards, pencilling around his fine eyes to gently finger his forehead. Her hands descended, unbuttoned his dress shirt then fluttered across his tingling chest, stroking holding and massaging. A shudder rippled through his body as her long nails scraped across his taut husky stomach leaving channels of erotic hurt as Phyllipa, placing her hand, palm downwards, across the front of his trousers, grunted with satisfaction as she felt his throbbing phallus harden. His eager hands, thrusting out to grasp her waist, found them gently held, then pushed away. “Give me five minutes.” She whispered throatily. “To get out of these clothes.”

Steven groaned. She was right, he told himself. He was half scared of her. It had been such a long time since he had pleasured himself in the arms of a woman that memories had almost withered. But, he tried to reassure himself, Phyllipa was very very special and he loved her and with lots of hop
e
and all fingers crossed, she may come to love him. Sighing deeply he went off to find the guest room.

She
quickly undress
ed
, looked at herself in the long robing mirror of her bedroom. Her nipples had started to engorge, causing the
heat between her legs to rapidly move into an overload situation. Standing astride, she studied hers
elf from different angles,
slowly caressed herself with her fingers. Re
moving a silk dressing gown from
a wardrobe, she wrapped it around her now tingling body and thought of Steven. She wanted tonight to be a night to remember, not just for her but for him as well. It was important that their coming together would prove to be more than an isolated “roll on, roll off” affair. Tonight she wanted to be loved. She wished to be held in his arms and fussed over. But, most of all, she wanted him strong and randy, horny and hard, and herself, satiated and satisfied.

Steven was sitting in the lounge when she returned. A pyjama jacket covered him down to his waist. Quickly standing, he moved towards her, but her outstretched hand stopped him as she slowly took the dressing gown from her body, allowing it to fall in a heap at her feet. Spreading her legs she thrust her naked body forward in her usual defiant mode, causing Steven, his hardened phallus throbbing still stiffer, to gaze at her in wonderment.

“Fear is only in the mind!” she softly repeated, reaching out to grasp his manhood.

He pushed himself harder into her willing fingers. “You look so beautiful that I’m almost afraid to touch you.”

“Then I’ll touch you.” Falling into his arms, she guided his now hugely congested flesh between her legs. Then clasping her hands around his waist, carefully pinned him down on to the thick pile of the carpet, quickly sliding her body underneath his, anxious not to disturb the matrix of their intended position. Her care paid off. She uttered a joyous squeal as she felt his exquisite entrance, dovetailing them both into a special kind of ecstasy. Automatically bracing herself for the inevitable pumping thrust
, she was surprised when it didn’t happen. Instead, Steven eased himself agonisingly slowly deep inside her demanding body and Phyllipa didn’t know whether to praise his obvious sexual discipline or question her own inability to diminish it. Suddenly, she felt the warmth of his burning mouth against her lips and his tongue was sweeping lanes of her fevered rapture across her face as somewhere deep inside her libido, the nexus trap shifted causing her to moan as wave upon wave of europhic pleasure chased around her heated body.

Abruptly, Steven trembled as he increased the rhythm of his pumping loins for a fleeting second. Phyllipa believed he had broken free from his erotic reigns, but, much to her delight the controlled tempo continued enabling her to work her greedy body in line with his, beneath a curtain of almost magical sensations.

Tightening her thighs around his waist, she frantically strained himself to her determined to extract every ounce of enjoyment from the blood built shaft, which although still pumping deliberately , was ravaging the very limits of her insatiable carnality. Suddenly, Steven grunted and stepped up his rhythm. The trusts were quicker and to Phyllipa’s delight his penetration seemed to moving even deeper inside her causing her to slacken her grip and just lie there, engulfed in the pleasurable luxury of her own private paradise. For the first time in her life she felt almost lightheaded, as if she was out of control, drifting over white water that warmed and nurtured her with exquisite pleasure.

“Hurt me!” she suddenly screamed “Bite me! Do anything!”

Steven, his face now showing the strain of the demanding control which was exercising his body, sunk his teeth into the flesh of Phyllipa’s neck, causing her to shriek with frenzied rapture as her orgasm peaked and her lover to instantly lose his own battle. With one gigantic thrust, which Phyllipa prayed would go on forever, he flooded her wide open body with his offering, the gasping and groaning with exhaustion collapsed on to her, toppling off to lay on his side, breathing heavily.

For some moments, Phyllipa stayed absolutely still, hardly daring to move, her thoughts revolving as if in a giant carousel, aware that something quite out of the ordinary had happened to her. Apart from her gargantuan sexual appetite being momentarily appeased, she was conscious of something else, something which she could
not
honestly understand, except that whatever it was made her feel very safe, very satisfied and very happy. She smiled, perhaps it was the
murmuring
strains of Mahlers, “Song of the Earth” drifting through the dining room or perhaps it was the after effect of all the champagne which she had drunk? Whatever it was, both or neither, she knew that in the arms of Steven Grant, she had run the entire gamut of hidden emotions which had been missing from her
psyche
. Turning her head, she kissed his sleepy face as
he opened his eyes, smiled,a
nd
threw his arms around her, pulling her body closer
to his own.
chuckled and
wriggled into the warm muscled flesh as the gentle hands of satisfaction coated her eyes with sleep. Drifting her from a peaceful lethargy into a deeper tranquillity

C
hapter 9

Phyllipa sat behind her desk at SG Packaging and inspected the flat printed cardboard carton i
n her hand. She folded it, and
doubled it up, running the creases and the edges parallel, checking that the forme had done its job correctly. The carton was from a batch of the Kristex contract so it had to be almost perfect. Nodding her head in appreciation, she was so engrossed in what she was doing, she didn’t hear Steven enter her office and wasn’t aware of his presence until two strong hands grasped her shoulders from the back and a warm mouth kissed her cheek.

“you
look very busy.” He sat at her desk opposite her.

“I’m always busy Steven. That’s what you pay me for!”

He frowned, shook his head and pointed to the carton. “You’re stepping out of line again. This is not your job. We have a Checking Department which looks at everything which leaves this factory.”

Phyllipa looked at him, aggressively, “Ten in one thousand. That’s what your so called Checking Department does. It looks at ten cartons and if they happen to be on one printed sheet, that could leave nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety unchecked, which could be wrong.”

“Alright, alright! You’ve made your point.” Steven wasn’t going to start arguing with her because he knew she was right. Quickly changing the subject he looked at her, apprehensively. “What are you doing tonight
?”

“Why?”

“I would have liked to have spent this evening with you. I do have something to ask you.”

“No time like the present Steven.” He shook his head. “No! This is not the time and certainly not the place.

“Is it that important?” He nodded. “To me, it is the most important thing in the world.”

She shrugged her shoulders “Sorry! Tonight I am Rosewood bound.”

“what
about tomorrow night then?” I thought perhaps you would come out to my place and let me cook you a meal
.” He chuckled “I’m pretty good!” but, Phyllipa shook her head again. “No. I’m afraid not. I wish to spend some time with my father!”

Steven’s face clouded with disappointment. “Yes of course. Families are very important. I do understand.”

“I don’t think you do.” She said, seriously “My father is all the family I have. He is the end of the Inchcape-Gore male blood line, and although I know he understands that eventually I will live my own life, he misses me.” Her face brightened. “I ride out around six every morning! You would be very welcome.” She fingered the corner of her mouth seductively.

“You could
join my father and I for breakfast. Who knows he may like meeting his daughter’s employer?” she tucked the carton away in a drawer. “Anyway, perhaps you will let me know and I’ll inform the groom to saddle something gentle for you?” chuckling softly, she watched his face.

“Something gentle?” he queried. “For your information, Mz Gore, I’ve been riding horses since I was eight years old.”

“Not mine you haven’t!” she retorted still chuckling.

He laughed, showing his strong white teeth and Phyllipa thought how good he always looked. “My people were all horse riders.” He explained patiently, “They were farmers.”

“Were?” she enquired, with a lift of her eyebrows.

“Like you Phyllipa
, apart from my mother, I’m the only one left.”

“At the very least we have that in common! But I am talking about thoroughbreds here not carthorses.”

“Horses are horses, Phyllipa and what on earth makes you think carthorses aren’t thoroughbreds?”

There was
flippancy
in his tone which made Phyllipa a little wary. “O.K amend that to racehorses. So you reckon you could manage something special do you?”

His eyes narrowed as he carefully looked at her, wondering what game she was playing “Anything you care to put up.” He stated, firmly. “The wilder the better!”

Phyllipa got to her feet and picked up her car keys. We’ll see you at six then?” the challenge was unmistakeable.

Steven ran his hand over his chin and pondered for a little while. “No! I don’t think so.” He finally said. “Six is a little early for me.”

“Pity.” Phyllipa said.

“I still live at the farm.” He explained. “And I do have things to do in the mornings. I don’t suppose for a moment that I have the house staff that you undoubtedly have.” He looked at her expecting some sort of argument. “So?”

Phyllipa hunched her shoulders. “So nothing! I just think it is a pity! After all, you did say “the wilder the better”, didn’t you?” she grinned at him. “Or was that just a throw away remark?”

“O.K., Ms
Gore, you’ve made your point six a.m. It is. Will that suit you?”

“Admirably! Steven!
unt
ill then.” She kissed his cheek and walked from the room.

Phyllipa looked at the Tag Heuer on her wrist. It was almost six a.m. and there was no sign of Steven. She beckoned the groom. “Did you saddle Sultan as I asked?”
the boy nodded. “Yes Ms
Phyllipa. He is in the end loose box and he’s in a vicious temper.”

“So what’s new?” Phyllipa
murmured
, looking up sharply at the sound of her boss’s BMW sneaking into the yard. She walked over to him as he stepped from the car. He was dressed for riding and Phyllipa, once again, thought how smart he looked. “You found the place then?” she asked. “Couldn’
t really miss it.”
kissing her cheek.

Phyllipa called to the groom and ordered him to bring Sultan out, then turned to Steven. “As you said you were an accomplished rider, I thought it would be a good idea if you exercised one of our more difficult horses, right?”

Steven pulled a pair of skin tight suede gloves over his hands. “As I said before, Phyllipa, horses are horses.”

Looking at his attractive face, she had a distinct feeling that perhaps she may have misjudged  him and that he was every bit as good as he had quietly inferred. Then she chuckled as she thought of what she had in mind for him. To ride that, he would have to be very very good!

Suddenly the door of the stable banged on its hinges and Sultan charged out with the groom hanging like grim death on its bridle. Seventeen hands high, as black as night and three quarters of a ton of bone, sinew and solid muscle. Only the whites of his red flecked eyes disturbed his darkness. Flinging his head high in the air, he lowered his powerful haunches and pawed the air with his forelegs.