THE NINTH

The smell of bacon filters through my senses. I lie with my eyes shut as the memories of last night filter through. My body is aching from using muscles I didn't know I even had, but for the first time in my life, I feel whole. I try to think of what I felt like before I met Taylor, but it is as if that girl no longer exists. The reality is that I wasn't a virgin, but last night it truly felt like I had given Taylor my virginity—or even more than that, a piece of my soul. 

I find myself smiling, and I put out a hand, expecting to find Taylor lying beside me. I come up empty, and realising that I am alone, my eyes pop open. For the first time, I can properly take in the room I am in. The whitewashed walls, the floor-to-ceiling windows along the back wall with views across to a small lake, the overlarge bed with sumptuous pillows. There seems to be very few personal touches until I spot a montage of pictures of Taylor with a girl. Suddenly suspicious, I creep out of the bed to get a better look. Realising that the girl shares many of Taylor's features, I take a deep breath and rationalise that she must be family. The thought calms me but makes me realise that so far Taylor has avoided all talk of his family. Flinging on a robe that I find on the back of the door, I make my way downstairs, following the delicious smells of breakfast being made.

The creak of the stairs alerts Taylor to my presence, and he looks up as I enter the room, a soft smile lighting his face. "Morning, beautiful. I was just about to come and wake you." I feel embarrassed by his use of the word 'beautiful', but I shrug it off and smile back at him with a soft "Morning."

"Did you sleep okay?" Taylor starts loading up two plates as I climb up on a stool at the breakfast bar. I fidget with my robe, trying to cover my nakedness, hoping that Taylor won't realise how nervous I am about being here. 

"Yes, thanks." I am feeling so desperately shy that I can't think of what to say next. I have never been in this situation before. The two whole times I have had sex before, there was no breakfast the morning after, only humiliation and hurt, and I just don't know how to handle this. Fortunately, Taylor seems to realise my unease, smiling over at me in a way that calms my nerves. Placing the biggest plate of food I have ever seen in my life in front of me, Taylor chuckles and puts on a weird French accent. "Madam, your breakfast is served."

A giggle escapes my lips, and I realise that underneath Taylor's calm exterior, he is a little bit nervous too. "Wow, this looks amazing!" I exclaim, and truly it does. A freshly made waffle is covered with a mound of bacon, poached eggs and asparagus tips in a hollandaise sauce. My stomach rumbles loudly as Taylor brings me a tall glass of juice.

"Dig in. It'll get cold." I take a mouthful and groan. Taylor looks over, worried. "Is it okay?"

"Delicious. Maybe the best breakfast I have ever had."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far."

"Seriously, Taylor, no one apart from Nonna ever cooked me breakfast, and her version was always a little on the greasy side. She was a great cook, but breakfast was not really her forte."

"What do you mean, no one cooked you breakfast?" Taylor looks at me quizzically.

"Well, my folks don't really eat breakfast, or anything full stop, so if I was hungry I had to fend for myself." A dark look crosses Taylor"s face, and I see his fists bunching. "Don't get me wrong, there was always food. It just didn't come like this." Taylor calms and comes around to sit beside me, placing a light kiss on the top of my head. We eat in comfortable silence, and I marvel at the fact I am sitting here, the morning after the night before, feeling more at ease with Taylor than with some of my friends I had known for years. 

"I thought we could go for a walk this morning and stop in for coffee at a great little place I know, if that works for you?" 

"That sounds lovely. Would you mind if I grab a shower first?" 

Taylor gives me a wicked grin. "Sure, not at all. Go on up while I clear up in here."

It takes me a few minutes to work out how to get the space-age shower working. There seems to be a million jets in the giant cubicle available to pummel my body in every direction, and once I get used to them, my body starts to relax from a tension I didn't even realise I was holding on to. I don't hear Taylor come into the room, let alone open the cubicle door, so when his arms wrap around me from behind, I let out a small gasp of surprise.

"I thought I would join you." Taylor gives me an impish grin.

"Oh, did you?" I retort, suddenly feeling very exposed as Taylor starts to run his hands up and down my body. I find myself stiffening, not sure about what is happening here.

"Relax, Abby, I don't bite," Taylor whispers into my ear, nipping at it affectionately.

"Ha ha, what do you call that, then?" I snort.

"Hmm, well, just a little, then." I can feel Taylor's grin as he starts kissing my neck.

"That's not really what I am afraid of." 

"Oh no, then what is it you are afraid of?" I am not sure I can articulate what I am feeling at the moment.

Taylor leans across and grabs some shower gel and squeezes some out into his palms. He starts working his hands together to create a lather, which he then starts rubbing the foam across my breasts. My breathing quickens the lower his hands wander, and I find myself putting my hands out to stabilise myself.

"Maybe you are afraid of this?" Taylor slips a finger between my swollen lips and, on finding my clit, starts to rub in slow circles. The warmth in my abdomen quickly builds with sparks of pleasure threatening to unbalance me. Taylor holds me against him, his other hand continuing to massage my breasts. I feel him growing hard as he pushes into my back. My brain takes a leave of absence, and it is all I can do to ride the waves threatening to overwhelm me.

"Come for me, baby." Those four words and that's all it takes for me to unravel. My shaky legs threaten to collapse, and sensing this, Taylor reaches down and sweeps me into his arms. He walks me across to the counter and gently places me sitting on the top. I can feel his need as he kisses me hungrily, so I pull him to stand between my legs. We are both breathing too hard to talk, desire overriding everything else as hands tangle in hair, lips move across bare skin, tongues crash.

Without pausing for a break, Taylor slips on a condom and then nudges his head slowly into me. I sigh as the fullness claims me once again, my muscles tightening around his girth.

"Fuck, you are so tight, Abs." Taylor cups my ass, pulling me onto him so that I am full to the hilt.

"More, I need more," I whisper, my need to fly making me plead. "Fuck me, please, Taylor." I can't quite believe my words, but in the moment they feel wholly appropriate.

"With pleasure, baby." Taylor slowly eases out of me, and I whimper in longing as the emptiness consumes me. He looks me straight in the eye and then slams back into my body. Holy fuck! Taylor has reached a part of me I thought only existed in grown-up fairy tales. "Argh," I scream, the pleasure bordering on the sweetest pain I have ever felt. Taylor stills, concern in his eyes.

"No, more please." My words are garbled, and Taylor goes completely still, unsure of my meaning. 

"Taylor, not 'no'—more, please. Fuck me." My breathing is ragged. Taylor's eyes light up and he grips my ass once more, slamming into me with force. I moan in ecstasy as he slams into me again and again and again, and then I explode, taking Taylor with me. Minutes pass as we stay bound together, his forehead leaning on mine, waiting for the shockwaves to subside. Tears start to leak down my face, my body completely overwhelmed by the sensations it has just experienced.

Taylor starts and looks at me with concern. "Did I hurt you, Abby?" he asks in a whisper, clearly anxious.

"No…no. These are happy tears." I can see he is unsure, so I wipe away the tears and plant a soft kiss on his lips. "I am all good, Taylor. That was just…a little overwhelming." Taylor smiles and hugs me tightly, kissing the top of my head lightly. Taylor slides out of me gently and pulls me back into the shower, soaping my body with light caresses.

The day passes quicker than I would have liked. We take a stroll through the village, and I can't help but exclaim over the quaintness of the cottages. I am so used to the hustle and bustle of London and Brighton that the sounds of the countryside are almost alien to me. We end up in a boutique coffee shop, where Taylor introduces me to blends from all over the world. I thought I was adventurous ordering a gingerbread latte from Starbucks at Christmastime, but that is nothing in comparison to what I have tried today. Slightly jittery from all the caffeine, we take a long stroll back and grab a sandwich, settling back in front of a fire just in time before the heavens open.

The muted sunlight of the afternoon soon fades as the autumn evening rolls in. Our light conversation ranges from music to books and films, and I am surprised to learn just how much we have in common. Taylor fills me in about his gap year and how the foods from his travels inspired him to set up his company. In turn, I tell him about my passion for baking.

"So how did you end up being an analyst? Don't get me wrong, you are great at it, but if cooking is your passion, why didn't you go to culinary school?" Taylor's gentle probing gets me to admit far more than I readily would.

"As I have said before, my parents don't really do food. As models, I guess their view is pretty much that calories equal fat, so heaven forbid you eat a chocolate éclair." My tone is mocking, but I can't seem to help the years of pent-up frustration.

"Nonna taught me to cook and I always dreamed of opening my own little cupcake place somewhere, but when I approached my folks about going off to college, they insisted I stay and do business at sixth form. Because I was only sixteen, it was not like I could go against them, so I went along with it, hoping that if I got good grades, then I could persuade them to let me do a hospitality course at uni. But when the time came, they refused to support me financially unless I did something they considered worthy…" I can't help the grimace that crosses my face.

"So in the end, after much drama and Nonna finally intervening, I agreed to a business degree, but only because I didn't want to miss out on the whole growing-up experience. Nonna persuaded me that having a business background would help me in the long run when I opened my café. Then every birthday and Christmas, she would pay for me to go on one course or another, which meant that I wasn't missing out. Plus I spent a lot of time baking for my housemates at uni, so it didn't seem so bad that I wasn't doing it professionally."

"So why haven't you opened your café yet?" Taylor continues to probe.

"Simply, money. The start-up capital I would need is huge, and I still have student debts to pay back. My parents wouldn't help and Nonna wasn't in any position to help me financially, so I got a job when I finished. And at least working for Hudson, I still get to be around food, even if it is on paper." I say this last part with a cheeky grin, which Taylor returns.

"So if money was no object, then you would be out of there like a shot?" I suddenly realise that I am technically speaking to my boss, so I find myself hesitating, unsure about how truthful I should be. As if suddenly realising my discomfort, Taylor carries on, "No, seriously, you should follow your dreams. If that is your long-term goal and an opportunity arises, you have to take it with both hands. That's what I did."

I see the fire in Taylor's eyes as he talks with such passion, and it makes me want to reach across and kiss him. Suddenly feeling bold, I do just that, leaning across and placing my lips gently on his. His arms snake around me and pull me in close so that my body moulds to his. As his lips crush mine, the now-familiar sparks start to make their way up my body. I slip my hand under his T-shirt and run my fingers across his broad chest, gently brushing his nipples. Taylor moans and I feel myself turn to liquid arousal. 

Reaching down, Taylor pulls both my shirt and jumper over my head in one stroke, leaving my breasts exposed to his mouth. He tugs down the cups of my bra, which forces my breasts to spill over the top, and immediately starts nipping gently at my nipples in turn. Oh my! I never knew pleasure and pain had such a thin barrier. I squirm in Taylor's arms, arousal coursing through my veins.

"Keep still, Abby," Taylor commands, tapping me lightly on my arse.

"Um…I can't." My voice is harsh from the shallow breaths ravaging my throat. My body has taken on a life of its own, and I can't seem to still my limbs.

"If you can't keep still, Abs, I am going to have to do something about it." I meet Taylor's eyes, and there is something there I just can't fathom. 

"What do you mean?" I stutter nervously. Taylor's mood seems darker, and more intense. 

"Have you ever been tied up, Abby?" I shake my head, trying to wrap my thoughts around what Taylor is asking me. "Do you want to be tied up, Abby?" asks Taylor, his eyes molten. I am nervous but ultimately turned on by the idea, and weirdly enough, I feel like I could trust Taylor with my life. All it takes is a small nod and I find myself in Taylor's arms being carried up the stairs to his bedroom, all the while his lips continuing to nuzzle at my neck.

I am gently laid out on the bed, and Taylor disappears into his cupboard for a couple of minutes. When he joins me on the bed, I can see he has numerous lengths of silky material, which he starts attaching to the corner posts of the bed. My legs are trembling, but I am unsure if it is nerves, arousal, or both as I watch him work. Once he is finished, Taylor turns his gaze to me and gently starts running his fingers over the exposed flesh of my stomach. "I am not going to do anything you don't want me to," Taylor murmurs into my ear. "But if there is anything you are not comfortable with, or if you just want to stop, you need to tell me. Okay?" I nod my assent. "This only works if there is total trust and honesty between us, do you understand?"

"I trust you, Taylor," I whisper. Within moments he has divested me of all my clothes, and he gently takes first one hand and then the other, kissing my palms gently and wrapping the material around both my wrists so that they are bound together. He then works his way down each leg, kissing the inside of my thigh and calf before stretching it out and binding my ankle to the post. I am completely spread open, and I can feel the cool air sensuously between the apex of my thighs. Taylor moves up my body, taking my bound wrists and pulling my arms above my head, linking them to the material at the corners of the headboard.

"Fuck. You are so hot, Abby." Taylor is actually growling at me, and for the first time in my life, I actually feel vaguely sexy, based on his reaction. "Hold on, baby, we are going on the ride of your life." I lift my head and see Taylor moving down and settling his head between my thighs. I squirm with embarrassment, but the bindings hold me tightly, making it impossible to close my legs. I feel Taylor's tongue flick out across my clit, sending sparks of pleasure through me and causing me to moan out loud. Taylor continues to tease me with his tongue, first slipping one finger into me and then another. The muscles in my pelvis tighten, and I can feel that I am on the edge of the most intense orgasm I have ever had. And because I can't move my legs, the feeling just keeps getting more and more intense until, at last, I fall apart, crying out Taylor's name.

I come back to earth as Taylor gently releases my legs, rubbing out the cramp that has been forming. My arms are still bound, but the freedom to pull my legs together is a sweet relief, yet I am still yearning to feel Taylor inside of me. As if sensing this, I find myself flipped onto my stomach with Taylor hovering above me. "This isn't over yet, baby," Taylor murmurs into my ear as he pulls my bum into the air so that I am resting on my knees and elbows. He moves off me for a second, and I can hear him pulling on a condom. Then he is at my entrance, gently pushing into me. "I can't get over how tight you are, Abby. You feel so amazing!"

Taylor pushes deeper into me until I am completely full, then stills for a second before drawing out and pushing back in. His deft fingers find my clitoris, stroking me as I find myself coming again hard on his fingers and his cock. I moan out loud as Taylor starts pounding into me with force, causing me to fall apart once again as another orgasm tears through me. I hear Taylor call out my name as he explodes inside of me, and we both collapse. Gently Taylor eases out of me, discarding the condom and then releasing my wrists. My body is putty as he turns me back onto my back, running his hands tenderly all over me.

I am completely spent as I smile up shyly at Taylor, who is propped up on one elbow. Tenderly Taylor kisses my neck and my lips, and I feel myself drifting away as he pulls me in to his body.