Buying the Virgin

Chapter 117: The Girl Who Was Hunted - Chapter Thirty-Three

CHARLOTTE

All I want is to stay there, in my Master’s arms, letting him rock me, but, “I’d like to do that Master, but

there’s things I need to tell you…. and Michael and Richard…”

“Yes, I know. There are things I want to ask you, but we can spare a few minutes.” He holds me close,

and I relax into the warmth of him, breathing in his wonderful perfume, musky and male.

After a little while he says, “Do you want to make love?” NôvelDrama.Org (C) content.

“I’d like that, but….”

“But….?”

“Um, you’ll need to….” I’m not sure how to put this. I have never had to ask it before.

He takes me by the shoulders, looking into my face. “Charlotte, what is it? Talk to me.”

My face heating, “You’ll need to use a condom, Master. I’ve not been able to take my pill for the last few

days….”

“Ah…. Yes, of course…. I’d become used to the luxury of not having to worry about that with you.” He

kisses me on the top of my head. “Wait there. I’ll be right back.”

He returns five minutes later. “There are vending machines in the public bathrooms downstairs.” He sits

beside me again on the bed, pulls a small foil packet from his pocket, placing it on the side table. His

fingers running down the side of my face, “You are alright?”

“Yes, Master. I’m alright, just very tired. You don’t have to keep asking.”

He pulls the sheets from me, eyeing my bruised body. “Actually, I do. You might try to brush off what’s

happened to you, but no-one gets into that condition without paying a price for it.”

Abashed I look away, not wanting to meet his gaze, but he pulls me into his embrace. “Shhh…”

As I sit up into his arms, he kisses my mouth, softly, stroking my hair, then traces his lips down to my

shoulders, and around to the hollow of my neck. The scent of him drifts over me and I sigh, not exactly

aroused, more enraptured, by my Master’s lovemaking. I want nothing more than to lie with him, close,

my skin on his.

He cups my breast, his eyes drifting over a bruise which, starting on my chest, draws livid colour over

the skin of the breast. As he stoops to suckle at a nipple, I see his eyes close. He does not want to look

at me like this.

Standing, he unbuttons his shirt, stripping off his clothes. Unusually, he is not yet erect, his cock lying

quiescent. But he slips between the sheets with me, pulling me down to lie with him, his arms encircling

me again.

He begins to kiss me in earnest, almost with desperation. His fingers clinging into me, nails biting in, he

pulls me in close at the hip, squeezing against me. And now his erection rises, hard against my thigh.

His hand pressed, palm hard against my stomach, I part my legs, allowing him in. He strokes my belly,

the soft skin of my thighs, his breath juddering and shaking.

For a moment he pauses, his forehead resting against mine.

“Master? Are you alright?”

His voice is thick. “When your signal vanished Charlotte, we thought we’d lost you. That was a hard

moment. You must never, ever, do anything like that to me, to us, again.”

“I won’t, Master. You have my promise. I’ve done what I had to.”

He raises himself on an elbow, looking down at me. “Had to?”

“I had to get Beth back, Master. No-one else could have done it. and….” I hesitate, knowing how this is

going to sound…

“And…”

“I couldn’t leave Richard like that. He loves her. And I owed him so much…”

“Richard? You did all that for Richard? Not Beth?”

“Well, it was sort of for Beth, but mainly for Richard…. I owed him,” I repeat.

He rolls his eyes skyward. “Charlotte, what the hell am I supposed to think when you say something

like that? Do you have any other perceived ‘debts’ you feel you need to repay?”

“No, Master. I’ve said. You have my promise. I’ll not do anything else like that. Truly.”

He says nothing, simply nodding, then stoops to kiss me again. “Lie back,” he whispers.

Lying beside him, I tremble at his touch. He kisses me again, softly, sensually on the lips, then, “I

understand that you did what you did for good reason. Sometimes life gives us only bad choices, and

you had to choose.”

“Are you still angry with me?”

“I was, but not now. I’m proud of you.”

“Proud?”

“Yes, very proud.” He slants his mouth to mine, our lips meeting as his hand moves over me.

“And Michael?”

“I’ll talk with him. He’s as pleased as I am that we have you back, more or less safe and sound, but he

is still badly upset.”

“He’s very angry with me?”

“I’m not sure, but I think you can expect some hard talking from him.”

He nuzzles at a breast again, taking a nipple between his lips. I find my breath holding, only releasing

as he mouths at the nipple, chuckling softly as I react to him; a small gasp as pleasure takes me, his

touch slight, but exquisite.

Fingers splayed, he teases open my folds, sliding over and around my clit. My breath hitches as he

works my nub, and his dark eyes crinkle at the corners. Thumbing back the hood, he fingers my

exposed clit, rolling circles around it, looking pleased as I begin to whimper. I want to stroke him, to

fondle his cock which presses against me, but as I move, “No. Just lie back. I’m going to get inside you

now.”

He reaches for the foil packet, rolling his eyes again as he tears it open. “Always detested these

things,” he mutters.

“Sorry, Master.”

He kisses me again. “Nothing to apologise for. I’m glad you thought to mention it.”

Rolling above me, his lean, sinewy body, keenly muscled, atop mine, his body heat seeps into me. He

pushes down, his knees between my thighs, spreading me wide, then teasing at my entrance, rubbing

against me, not entering.

His face beside mine, his breathing is warm and heavy. Twining my fingers into his hair, my face

reaching for his, our lips meet in a soft, drawn-out touch, our mouths caressing.

“Please, Master. I want you inside me.”

He lifts himself a little, looking down at my face, his eyes locking with mine as, with his odd non-smile,

he repositions himself, then penetrates me, slowly easing inside me, his cock hard against my

softness. His hand cupping the side of my face, he glides smoothly inside me, barely thrusting, simply

working me within. His gentle love-making calms me, and I think, calms him.

“Are you going to come?” he murmurs.

“I don’t think so, Master. But that’s alright, I just wanted to be with you.”

Our gazes locked, neither of us looking away, we move together.

“Master?”

“Mmm?”

“All the time I was…. away…. I was thinking about you… the two of you. I was doing what I had to, but

all I wanted was to get back to you and Michael.”

“It’s alright. I know.” And he stoops to take my mouth in his.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, holding him close to me, breathing him in, the taste of him on my

lips. After only a moment or so, he shudders, letting out a gasp and a sigh. “Charlotte.…”

“Master….”

*****

Richard sits with Beth, across the table from me, his eyes glancing across at Michael and my Master.

My Master looks relaxed, almost happy. Michael is distant, cool, and has barely spoken to me.

Richard’s gaze on me is warm. “Charlotte, um, I know you have issues with James and Michael here,

over what you did. And I can understand that entirely. But for myself, I am grateful beyond words for

what you did. I’ll not forget it.”

I nod as Richard pauses, letting his words sink in, then, “If you’re feeling up to it now, can you tell us

more about what happened?”

My Master speaks. “Charlotte, you said there were some things you need to tell us? And we all need to

know why you didn’t want us to speak to the police. Richard here wasn’t very happy when I told him

that he couldn’t discuss with Will Stanton what was happening…”

“I’m sorry about that, but Klempner knew too many things that he shouldn’t have…”

Richard interrupts. “Klempner? Who’s Klempner?”

“Lawrence Klempner. There were others there, but he was in charge, when Beth and I were captured. I

recognised him from Blessingmoors. He would visit sometimes, looking over the older kids, pointing out

the ones he thought were interesting…” My throat seizes up as I struggle with my next words.

Michael passes me a glass of water. “Take your time, Charlotte.”

I gulp down the water. “He said he wouldn’t have known me from the home, but….” Again, my voice

dries up and I gulp more water. “He said he recognised me because I look like my mother.”

My Master and Michael look shocked. Richard keeps his face neutral. “Anything else?”

Do I tell them this?

Yes, I must...