Book 2 of ‘A Very Rural Affair’ is published later this week, so I thought I’d share the first chapter with you. If you enjoy it, this book can be found on Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk, Amazon.com.au or Amazon.ca.
Fen didn’t want to open her eyes yet, just in case. Her brain was informing her that she’d spent much of the previous night in bed with Patrick; the man she’d quite unexpectedly fallen in love with during the strangest and most intense few weeks of her life. But in her warm and drowsy state, dare she trust her recall? If Fen concentrated really hard, she thought she could smell his sexy, masculine scent. And was that Patrick’s well-muscled arm crooked beneath her pillow, having held her close all night? But what if the incredible sex she’d believed they’d recently shared turned out to be just a dream? A hot, sticky, sensual and faint-making dream, sure, but a dream all the same. Could this simply be a case of her over-active, optimistic imagination showing her lustful, sensual and occasionally X-rated scenes, that she could never hope to share with Patrick in real life?
‘You awake?’ Patrick’s low, gravelly tone suggested he’d only recently woken up himself. The bedcovers shifted slightly before his warm fingers stroked delicately along the naked curve of her hip. Fen couldn’t deny he was physically present now, but still she didn’t open her eyes.
‘Mmmmm,’ she groaned, partly in response to his question, but mostly due to the sensations Patrick was suddenly causing in her body. Despite the warmth, she could feel her nipples tightening sharply as a warm, heavy sensation crawled down through her abdomen, making her clit throb insistently. The likelihood that this was just a dream now was becoming fainter by the minute. Undoubtedly, she was sharing a bed with Patrick Anderson and apparently wearing nothing, while in the act of doing so.
Summoning up all of her available courage, Fen very gradually opened her eyes. Immediately she felt grateful to be lying down because the sight before her was faint-making. Patrick was awake, quietly watching her as she escaped from the arms of Morpheus. With jet black hair and sparkling eyes the colour of the bluest lagoons, Patrick was an incredibly handsome man; it was a fact Fen had been embarrassingly aware of from their very first meeting. But now she’d got to know him, she appreciated him for way more than just his looks. Kind, thoughtful, intelligent and brave, not to mention a sensation in bed, this man was the total package.
Patrick was certainly naked from the waist up because his well-toned, lightly-haired chest was on full display. Fen couldn’t be sure about what he may or may not be wearing beneath the bedcovers, but given she was entirely naked herself, she didn’t require much imagination to guess. And that’s when flashbacks from the previous, mind-blowing night began to whisk across her synapses. Had she really touched him there? And had they really done that…twice? Instantly, Fen’s cheeks flushed in response to both Patrick and the contents of her dirty mind. A ridiculously broad grin steadily spread across her face and Fen was gratified to watch her facial expression being mirrored by Patrick.
‘Jeez,’ he murmured, shaking his head in apparent disbelief. ‘You are something else.’
‘Hopefully a good something else?’ teased a beaming Fen. Patrick breathed out slowly and shook his head.
‘You have no idea.’ Tenderly, he took Fen’s face in his hands and kissed her with exquisitely slow and gentle movements, as though tasting a fine wine. When they eventually broke apart, Fen looked a little overwhelmed by his presence.
‘I’ve never really understood it before…what all the fuss is about.’
‘Fuss?’ asked Patrick quizzically.
‘About sex,’ admitted Fen with a shy smile. ‘But with you. God, I so get it.’ Patrick murmured in agreement and began to slowly rotate his fingertips down Fen’s soft, flat tummy. The sensations he caused made her body twist and spasm, a long, low moan escaping her throat as he dared to travel lower. As Patrick repositioned himself so that his lips could trace a similar path, the telephone beside the bed began to ring.
‘Dream on!’ he growled, reaching up to mute the device. ‘There is quite literally nothing on God’s green earth which could persuade me to leave this bed right now.’
‘Mmmm, me neither,’ sighed Fen. Appreciating Patrick’s lower leg was still in plaster, thanks to his recent dice with death, she crawled up the bed and straddled him. He was already incredibly hard, and when she lowered herself down onto his pelvis, his thick length nestled perfectly between her warm, swollen lips.
‘Oh, fuck,’ he sighed, eyes momentarily flickering closed as he was rendered inarticulate by the wet warmth which now sheathed him. Taking full advantage of his lack of focus, Fen folded her body over his, enabling her mouth to daringly claim her first kiss of the morning.
As their lips met and tongues gradually entwined, the two lovers groaned out their pleasure, astonished by just how good the act of kissing could feel. As Patrick’s tongue sank deeper, sweeping around Fen’s mouth and claiming it for his own, so his hands began to wander. Firm, confident strokes of his palms headed from her knees to her thighs, before thoroughly exploring Fen’s ass and back. It wasn’t long until their relatively chaste kiss descended into rampant, animal tussling, however, as their genuine desires began to burn through the chaste façade.
Before Fen knew what was happening, Patrick’s arms had wrapped tightly around her and he rolled them both over, to position Fen face-up on the bed. Lower leg in plaster, or not, Patrick was intent on taking full control.
‘God, I’m crazy about you,’ he admitted, as he began to nudge and kiss his way down her body, heading south. ‘Are you wet for me, Fen?’ he asked seductively.
‘I…I…’ she panted breathily in response. ‘I think so.’ It certainly felt that way; her entire abdomen was pulsing with heat, her thighs tingling in frenzied anticipation. Part of her brain still couldn’t quite believe this was real; she had spent the night in bed with Patrick Anderson, and they were just in the process of picking up where they paused mere hours before.
‘Yeah?’ He exhaled pleasurably as his face hovered over her pussy, legs pushed wide in preparation. Fen gasped loudly, able to feel each of his breaths ghosting across her sensitive skin. ‘Don’t you think I should check first, though? Just to be sure?’
In disbelief, Fen made the mistake of glancing down at him, only to immediately become locked in his tender gaze. Without once breaking eye contact, he lowered his mouth into position before using his tongue to slide through the centre of her slippery folds, from ass to clit, collecting her copious arousal as he went. Unable to prevent herself, Fen’s hips rolled and writhed in response, her breathy cries echoing through the otherwise still air.
‘Mmmmm,’ he growled, his tone in the lowest register Fen had ever heard him utter. ‘Fuck, you taste so good.’
As though drawn by a malevolent force, Patrick’s tongue spent some time becoming intimately reacquainted with her hardened, pounding clit. Unsurprisingly, Fen’s cries multiplied in both frequency and volume, as she was provided with a very comprehensive reminder of just how skilled Patrick was with that part of his anatomy. Once she’d been reduced to a gibbering, gasping wreck, his tongue continued on its quest, sliding all the way up Fen’s still-spasming torso until he reached her mouth.
Thrillingly, as Patrick’s mouth claimed ownership of hers, so his cock very slowly began to sink inside. Overwhelmed with sensation, Fen clamped down hard around his solid bulk as he sank deeper and deeper, their pleasure multiplying exponentially with every additional inch he permitted her. Gradually, she relaxed and he found himself locked firmly into the one position neither party had any desire to escape from. Continuing from where they’d left off the previous night, Fen and Patrick then spent several more glorious hours making love.
Much to the delight of Merlin, Fen’s over-enthusiastic flat-coat retriever, the couple finally emerged into the kitchen for an embarrassingly late breakfast. Fen was dressed in just Patrick’s black T-shirt and he was wandering around in his boxer shorts.
‘God, I’m starving,’ moaned Fen, reaching for a packet of cereal.
‘Mmm, me too,’ agreed Patrick, grabbing a giggling Fen and pulling her down onto the sofa. ‘Really, really hungry,’ he added, kissing a line from her hip, beneath his T-shirt to the underside of her breast.
‘Insatiable doesn’t even start to describe you!’ giggled Fen. Given her past, she’d never believed she might commit to loving someone again, but in this amazing man’s company, all things felt possible.
‘Can you blame me? Besides, you ain’t seen nothing yet,’ growled Patrick. ‘I’m still recuperating, remember?’ It was true. Thanks to a daring rescue attempt to save Joan’s life, Patrick had seriously injured himself and ended up in Intensive Care at the local hospital. It was a miracle that the only physical sign of his recent misadventure was a fractured bone in his lower leg, which was still in plaster.
A loud rap at the front door caused Fen to squeak in shock, while Merlin let off a loud volley of barking.
‘Aren’t you going to answer it?’ whispered Fen, pulling down her T-shirt which was far too short for respectable company.
‘They’ll go away,’ said Patrick soothingly, pushing the T-shirt back up again. But the visitor didn’t go away and continued to knock on the door.
‘Answer it,’ said Fen, resigned to their play being disturbed.
‘Yeah right, with this stonking great hard-on?’ Fen giggled.
‘So, put some jeans on. I’ll throw them down the stairs and then take a shower. Go on,’ she urged, grabbing an apple on her way out the door. ‘Whoever it is, they’re clearly not leaving.’
Taking Fen’s advice, Patrick slipped on a pair of jeans and, with the aid of a walking stick, padded bare-foot to the door.
‘Mate, I am so sorry,’ muttered his best mate Olly, clearly aware of what he’d disturbed.
‘No problem,’ grinned Patrick. ‘What’s up?’
‘You need to see this,’ said Olly, thrusting the morning papers into his hand and following Patrick into the kitchen.
‘Oh, fuck it!’
‘I felt you needed to know straight away,’ explained Olly, running a hand through his shaggy brown hair as Patrick continued to read.
‘You’re right. Thanks mate. I’d better go and speak with Fen.’
‘Let us know if there’s anything you need us to do?’
‘Sure. Just get everyone to keep their eyes open for me, yeah? Like we discussed?’
Patrick made his slow way upstairs, towards the sound of singing that was emanating from the shower. Could he do this to her? Take away her happiness when it had been so long in returning. The simple answer was that he had to. It was for her own safety. With a heavy heart, Patrick let himself into the bathroom, hobbled to the chair in the corner of the bathroom, strewn with Fen’s clothes and dropped into it with a deep sigh.
‘Who was it?’ asked Fen, turning off the shower and wrapping herself in a towel. Water droplets sat atop her dark hair which was tied up in a messy top-knot and her cheeks glowed from the surrounding steam. Never had Patrick seen her look so alive; so happy.
‘Fen. I just need to come straight out with it. It was Olly. He brought me the national papers. You and I are pictured. I’m really sorry.’
‘What?’ exclaimed an unbelieving Fen. Grabbing the evidence, her eyes urgently scanned the newspaper. The article didn’t just mention the name of the village, Hawksbury Hollow, but Patrick too. This was a disaster. Previously the victim of violent domestic abuse, she’d specifically moved to this secluded, unknown village in order to become invisible and hide from her violent ex-partner, Jimmy McNeil. The fuckwits at the Daily News had practically supplied him with a map and compass.
‘The media were already onto the story about the village being cut off recently. Then they got hold of the story about Tim and I taking Joan to hospital and me ending up in a coma. So, they thoughtfully stuck some bastard paparazzi with a long-lens in the village, when the helicopter landed yesterday.’
Patrick felt a prickle of guilt crawl up the nape of his neck. Having once been a very successful author and household name, he should have better foreseen how their story might have aroused media interest. Not that he’d released any new books for yonks now, but the public, or rather the newspaper editors, clearly didn’t forget. He forced himself to give Fen his undivided attention as she began to speak again. At this moment, her legitimate fears were far more important than his personal guilt. Fen had been subjected to an extremely violent attack at the hands of her ex, who was sent to prison, swearing there would be reprisals. It was quite natural for her to be terrified.
‘But that means Jimmy will be able to find me now. He’ll know where I am,’ Fen whispered uncomprehendingly. ‘I’ve got to leave the village. I need to move on.’
‘Fen, listen to me,’ said Patrick, hobbling over and grabbing her by the shoulders. ‘I will protect you. I promise. You don’t need to run. He will never hurt you again.’
‘You can’t be with me every hour of every day for the rest of my life,’ said Fen sadly. ‘I’ll always be looking over my shoulder.’
‘I will do everything within my power to keep you safe. Please have faith in me, Fen. You are protected here.’
‘You can’t promise that,’ said Fen, sorrowfully shaking her head. ‘Nobody can.’
Fenella Ashworth is a British author of contemporary erotic fiction. All of her stories are available from Amazon and free for those with Kindle Unlimited access. Her bestselling novels are ‘To Love, Honour and Oh Pay’, ‘One Hot Wynter’s Night’ and the Daniel Lawson series.
Fenella also releases stories on BooksieSilk, Booksie, Lush Stories and Literotica, and is often visible in the Literotica ‘Erotic Couplings’ Hall of Fame (Top Rated).
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