The Bar

18. Work

Clara awoke to the sound of her phone blaring the alarm for her to get up and get ready for work.
She groaned and turned over to grab the phone and turn it off. She swiped her finger across the screen and moved back to her previous position. Her head on Flints chest. He held the girl, groggily trying to wake up.

"I have to work today," she says closing her eyes and breathing in his scent of alcohol and smoke.

"Lets take the day off," he says.
He runs his fingers through her hair and then along her bare back.
He enjoyed this, waking up to the beautiful woman, hearing her melodic voice and seeing her green eyes perch up at him with innocence and temptation.

"No, I need to work in order to get my own place," she says then groans as she moves away from the man. She sits up and turns to stand up. His arms wrap around the vixen, pulling her back to him.
"You're not getting your own place, you're staying here, with me, forever," he says playfully smiling at the idea.
She giggles, causing his ears to perch like a dog.

"You'll get tired of me, trust me," she says with her giggles.

"That is impossible. You, love, are too fucking perfect," he says then places kisses along her spine. The scars on her back are healing nicely, he notes, they may not leave scars.

"Your back is healing. There may not be scars," he mentions.

"I've had lashes less worse than these and they left scars, I'm not so sure," she says cautiously trying to not tell him what occurred.

"We should probably take a shower before work," she says changing the subject.
She stands up an allows the man to see her in full view. He feels his member twitch as she turn to let him view her from the front. He lets out a deep breath and bites his lip.

"You're gonna be the death of me, one day your going to give me a heart attack," he says looking over her smooth pale body. She rolls her eyes at his comment then turns to the bathroom.

                    ________________

After disposing of last nights cold uneaten dinner, Flint makes eggs and toast for both him and Clara. He'd hoped they would be able to have a meal together without his desire taking control of him.

Last night he had lost control and he was ashamed of it. Watching her move around his kitchen, smiling, humming, ordering him to help, wearing those tiny shorts and that low cut t-shirt, all of it had driven him to insanity. Then with her sarcasm and playful banter, he had decided to give in. When they sat at the table the previous night, he had indulged in his desire. He sucked at her neck, felt her, then tasted the skin of her chest. He allowed himself to let go and allowed himself to taste her core on his fingers. When he pushed her away he didn't mean to insult her, all he wanted was to calm himself down before he slammed her on the dinning room table and tore her apart. He didn't want to be rough with her but she was too tempting. 

When Clara became upset with him and stormed upstairs, he knew he had insulted the girl. When he went after her, he had no plans on pushing her on the bed and taking her from behind. He didn't plan on spanking her and pulling her hair, but rather asking her to have a meal with him, to talk to him. When he entered her room, his plans were thrown out the window and he felt his entire body move into a fit of rage. Seeing her body in full view was the last straw. He lost control, from spanking, to pulling her hair, from telling her to say things to telling her to do things. He felt horrible that maybe he had pushed her into doing things that she didn't want to do. He wanted to talk to her and make sure she wasn't at odds end about their situation, he wanted to make sure she was comfortable enough to stay for as long as she'd like.