He kissed me with a hunger so deep that I had to clutch his wrists to anchor myself. My lips I willingly parted and he took the invitation without an instant’s hesitation, his warm moist tongue sweeping inside me to stroke my own in a sensuous caress that had me letting go of his wrists to grab for his shoulders instead and pull him close. I jerked when I felt his body so hard against my own and the freezing temperature of London didn’t so much as penetrate our little bubble. It was all so intense …so …needy …so raw, I groaned into his mouth and his arms curled themselves around my waist, bringing me tight against him. His scent, something woody and fresh filled my senses and I moaned into his sexy mouth as he changed the angle of the kiss, taking his mouth from mine only to slant it over my lips again in an endless mind blowing kiss. I felt his hands in my hair, clutching my curls and clenching them tight in his hands. One released my hair and travelled down the curve of my spine.. On exiting the room, we pass a beautiful, ornate, oak staircase, much grander than the one at my Master's home. As I follow, the matching wood panelling is carried out along the hall and through an intricately decorated doorway to a dining room. Here, an expansive table is laid out with white linen, and fine china with a spread of finger sandwiches, tea, coffee and an assortment of cakes with a hot water dispenser. His brother immediately begins to pour out a coffee which he hands to me before making another."Do you love my brother?" Francis suddenly asks, impassively."Yes," I respond.His stony-face breaks with a smile, then he extends his palm out to me, which I shake with reluctance. I don't hold much trust for others, and as I consider his face, I spot the tell-tale signs of when my Master is forcing sincerity. I will need to remain guarded."I wish you the best of luck with that miserable sod," he says, clasping me on the shoulder. "He's just like our father. How our mother put up.
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