Masters And Lovers 1-4 novel Chapter 52

How to do this?

I dress: dark trousers, shirt, tie…. But not the clothes I plan to wear to go out in.

Elizabeth is showering and doesn't hear me enter. Her eyes are closed as she washes, her face raised as she rinses under the jets. Water runs in rivulets through the long locks of her hair, making it much darker than when she woke. Foam courses over her shoulders, streams between her breasts and over her belly.

My shaft twitches.

No reason not to have some fun….

Ratchet her along in the right direction….

I shift, deliberately making a little noise, and her eyes open. She startles then looks sheepish. “Sorry, Master. I didn't know you were there.”

She still stands under the jetting shower. “I could see that,” I say, drawing closer. Her eyes widen.

“I'm feeling nostalgic,” I say, “for the chambermaid who decided to use my bathroom.” Moving deliberately slowly, I unravel the knot of my tie, tug it free then pull it taut between my fists.

Elizabeth knows what I expect of her. She swallows, offering her wrists and I loop the tie around, binding her hands, leaving the end long and dangling. Water bounces from her smooth skin, splashing over me, and soaking my shirt. She’s already pink over her shoulders from the heat of the water, but now the colour washes over her chest, blooming over her breasts.

Levering her arms up, I loop the loose end around the shower-head, tugging to be sure it is secure. Then standing back, I unbutton my shirt, stripping it away. Moving in closer again, water jets stinging over my chest, I kiss her cheek, then close by her face, I murmur, “That was the best day of my life. The day I found you in my shower. The best thing that ever happened to me.”

She quivers. “Master?”

“Don’t go away.”

Keep her waiting….

I take my time, sauntering back to the bedroom. Taking a spreader bar from its drawer, just as slowly, I return to the shower-room. Water washes through her hair, sending it streaming over her shoulders in long tails. Bright beads stand proud on her breasts, reflecting the light, and her nipples are tightly crinkled.

Her eyes are wide as they follow me in. I hold up the bar, display it to her but say nothing. A tremor ripples over her skin….

Squatting on my haunches, I strap the bar first to one ankle, then the other. My face so close to her sex, despite the rush of the water, the scent of her arousal fills the air. And as I jam the bar open, first one way, then the other, she gasps, teetering nicely; off-balance but not by too much.

How far to play her?

I’m here anyway. I might as well take the benefit. So, I lean in to her smoothly waxed loins. The water pounds down on the back of my head, streaming over my face as I open my mouth over her mound then lap inwards to her clit.

She writhes and yells, her feet skittering in their restraints, but she can’t fall. At worst, she’ll drop her weight onto her wrists.

And I back away.

Don’t want to overdo it….

Not yet….

I rise, then move close, looking down at her, my cock straining inside my now soaked pants. I could happily take her here and fuck us both to climax where she stands. The temptation to bend her over the basin and bury myself into her….

Don’t start what you’re not prepared to finish….

The showerhead hisses needles over her goosing skin. Reaching up, I unclip it from its fitting, then holding it close, play it over her nipples. She jerks and shudders, a moan escaping. Then, an inch at a time, I slide it down her body, massaging her with the water over her belly, then south.

With a flick of my wrist, I aim between her legs, only for the briefest moment, a second, no more. She bucks, skids and loses her slippery footing, but I wrap my free arm around her waist, supporting her. Then I spike her with the jets again, angling this time to catch her pussy as well.

And she yells…. She’s flushing a brilliant scarlet….

She’s going to come….

I stand away and turn off the water. “That will do for now, I think.”

She’s shaking. “Master?” She gulps, disbelief in her voice.

“We’ll finish playing later,” I say, stooping to free her from the spreader, then standing to free her wrists. “For now, get yourself ready and dressed.” And I push her out of the shower and towards the bedroom.

I turn, hiding my grin, then strip off the remains of my soaking clothes in the shower stall. Leaving my violently aroused wife to make herself ready for Christmas Lunch, I head for the bedroom to change into my day clothes.

That should give Michael something to think about….

*****

Elizabeth suits green so well. It contrasts with her hair and matches her eyes. The fabric of the dress I gave her drapes and flows, suggesting without revealing. I help her with the laces at the back, then when she’s not looking, slip a pair of her panties into my pocket.

She’s going to need them….

*****

When I test the temperature outside, the air is scintillatingly cold, seeming almost brittle as I breathe. The cherry trees which line the drive to the gate droop under the weight of snow and there’s not a breath of wind.

“Put your boots on to travel in,” I say. "You can change your shoes when we get there."

I already have gifts for the Threesome and our own contributions to the festivities stowed in the trunk of the car, along with a warm change of clothes for the journey back home. But I pack blankets and a flask of coffee too, just in case.

The highways have been cleared. As we pass through the built-up areas, snow lies in grubby heaps, scraped to the side of the road by the snowploughs. But away from the City, away from the traffic, over fields and woods the day sparkles. The road glares and I need sunglasses to drive.

Elizabeth Hmmms….

“Something wrong?”

“We just passed the turnoff to Barnbridge. I’d convinced myself you’d booked us into that new restaurant by the river.”

I suck in my cheeks. “Guess again.”

In fact, she’ll not be guessing for much longer. The next junction is where we’ll be turning off.

Then she’ll know….

And sure enough, as I flick the indicator to pull off the main highway, her face swings to mine. She says not a word, but a flush rises up her neck and pinks at her cheeks. “Master? That’s why….”

I lay my hand over hers. “Merry Christmas, my Love. James is expecting us.”

“James? But Michael…?”

“I don’t believe Michael has been told what he might be asked to unwrap today.” I shoot her a sidelong smile. “I don’t anticipate it being a problem.”