I dug my toes into the carpet and half closed my eyes. "Maybe we should test out how comfy it is first?"
I stepped into the room. "Your bedchamber, madam," he said and ushered me through, surprising me by not taking me up on the offer to test out the carpet for purposes other than standing on.
And then I knew why.
The room put most hotels to shame: the same thick carpet, a huge super king bed, feature wallpaper with a seaside theme and French doors leading out onto a decked area that dropped down into the gardens. I followed Jackson to the balcony and saw a hot tub that he was inspecting, taking photos with his phone. "What do you think?" he said. "Is Marie going to be happy with the room?"
"This was what was being done?" I noticed the en-suite, the door slightly ajar.
"All the bedrooms have been redecorated with new bathrooms. And this and the master bedroom have had hot tubs installed. I think she's hoping it'll encourage us to come home more," he said, heading back inside. "Want to see the rest?"
I followed him around the top floor of the main house, into each of the bedrooms, all decorated subtly, each slightly different. I felt a pang for my apartment, now in Richard's care, and how I'd decorated it, missing my furnishing and curtains but not him and I knew it was time to move on. I needed my own place as soon as the apartment was sold, which could still be a few months away.
Three bedrooms were in the annexed buildings, all on the ground floor, two with their own living areas and kitchens.
"How long has all of this taken?" I asked.
"Four weeks, I think. Marie handed keys over to a project manager the day before they flew to Canada. It was a big team of people though. Looks like they've done a good job," he fidgeted on his phone for a few seconds and I heard the sound of an email being sent.
"You sent her the photos?"
He nodded. "Job done. I was worried if we started testing the carpet I'd forget." I eyed him up and down, desire suddenly streaking through me and pooling between my legs. I was coming to terms with the lack of battle between us and how easy he made everything feel, like there was always a solution and right now, here, with no one around us for what felt like miles, I wanted to drown in him for a little while.
"Where do you want to start?" I said. We were in the largest of the annexed bedrooms, this one decorated with grey striped wallpaper and teak furniture. It was masculine and screamed Maxwell.
"Here?" he said, trapping me against the walls with his arms. I put my hands on his chest, inhaling his scent. He felt firm and rigid. Solid.
"This is Maxwell's usual room, isn't it?"
"How did you guess?"
"It's very him. And you want to christen this room before him, don't you?"
He made a non-committal sound, one hand pushing my hair away from my face. Then he leaned in and kissed me, his mouth demanding and my hands looped around his neck. I let myself be powerless to his plundering, enjoying the feeling of letting someone else have control. His body pushed against mine and I felt the ridge of his erection through his jeans, pushing myself against it. His fingers glided across my breasts and flicked my nipples, biting my bottom lip.
My own hands had developed a mind of their own and had undone his belt, sneaking into the space between us. "Eager?" he said with a smile.
"I want you to fuck me," I said, whispering even though no one could hear.
I laughed dirtily. "Up against this wall?" It was a painted wall; I wouldn't have risked the wallpaper.
I pushed down his jeans and found no underwear. His hand was undoing mine, pushing them to my knees. I kicked them off and his fingers slipped into my briefs, finding my wet heat.
Then he was on his knees, and I was naked from the waist down, his mouth buried between my legs, his hands cupping my ass and pulling me closer into his mouth. He licked and sucked and it took all of three seconds before I'd came, and then my legs were wrapped around his waist and he was inside me, thrusting hard, his eyes on mine.
The sounds were unrecognizable; I didn't know my own voice as I begged him to fuck me harder, my pussy still pulsating from my first orgasm. His mouth latched onto the side of my neck and he sucked, leaving what would be a mark for the next few days.
"Fuck, Van, you feel so good. Love being in your pussy," he said but his words barely registered. He was hitting the spot inside me, the holy grail of erogenous zones and I was barely able to hold onto him.
"I'm coming!" I screamed, not caring now if there was indeed anyone to hear. I watched his eyes as I came, clenching his dick with each spasm and feeling him come deep inside me, filling me up.
He still held me as our orgasms subsided, his hands underneath my ass, my back against the wall and arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers still holding onto his hair.
"Let me carry you into the bathroom," he said when he had regained his breath. I looked at him, questioning. "The carpet. When I pull out it'll be messy. I think I just entered the Guinness Book of records for the most jizz in one go."
I started to laugh, my face creasing and I hid myself in his shoulder as he walked us the shower before pulling out of me, the mix of our fluids trickling down my leg. "Sex is messy," I said, pulling off my top and bra. He stripped out of his shirt.
"In many ways," he said, turning on the shower. "Let me clean you up." He did so, washing between my legs, keeping the water away from my hair, his hands confident and caring, working their way around my body. "How do you feel?"
