Page 41 of Forbidden Dark Vows

Eileen refills our coffee cups and tells us to take some wellies from the front porch when we wander around the farm.

The wellies are splattered with dried mud, but Eileen has provided thick woolen socks to keep our feet warm. Ruby giggles when she realizes that they reach over her knees. “How am I supposed to walk in these?”

A faint tang of manure assaults my nostrils as I step into another pair. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Sure, I’m sure. You can’t pull the New Yorker act on me now, Harry. We’re in this together, remember.”

I kiss her forehead. “And you’ve never looked sexier.”

“Maybe I’ll bring the wellies to bed with us later.”

Alastair is a sandy-haired man with ruddy, weather-stained cheeks and a wiry beard. He introduces us to the cow shed, where the animal smell is quite overwhelming.

Ruby, unfazed by the farm odors, asks, “Do the cows have names?”

The farmer shakes his head. “Forming a personal attachment to the animals will only make my life more difficult.”

Ruby’s expression crumples when she understands the meaning behind his words. “Well, I’m going to name them.”

We wander around the shed, Ruby choosing names and stroking their foreheads, trying to ignore the plastic tags attached to their ears.

“This one is Daisy.” The honey-colored cow stops munching, hay and grass spilling from her mouth, and watches us with obvious mistrust. “Hello, Daisy. My name is Ruby, and the city boy hereis called Harry. Don’t mind him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t touch your food.”

The sheep are even less friendly, running away the instant they spot us walking down the path. We go to the rocky beach and spend the rest of the day collecting pebbles and hunting in the rockpools for crabs. My foot slides off a mossy rock and I land on my back in the icy sea, gasping for air as the shock of the chill sucks the oxygen from my lungs.

Ruby offers me a hand, chewing her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing. I grip it tightly, but she loses her balance too and lands on top of me, drenching her knees and splashing both our faces.

“Oh … my … God… That’s so cold.” Her teeth are chattering, her lips turning blue.

Laughing, we run back up the beach towards the cliffs where we’ve spotted a narrow gap between rocks. Squeezing through the gap and into a cave barely large enough for both of us to sit, I’m surprised at how warm it is when we’re out of the wind.

Ruby shivers against me, and I pull her closer, our cheeks colliding in the cramped space. “I’m … so … cold.” Even inside the gloomy cave, I can see that her face is turning blue, her jaw clenched.

I unzip my jacket to share my body heat with her, and she dips inside it, while I wrap it around her. “Better?”

“A bit.”

I hug her tightly, rubbing her arm to keep her circulation going when I feel her icy hand slide inside my pants. I jump involuntarily.

“Sorry,” she murmurs against my chest. But she doesn’t stop. She frees my cock, a gentle groan escaping her lips before her warm mouth closes around it.

It’s my turn to groan. I hadn’t realized how cold I was until the heat from her mouth transfers to my throbbing cock. I lean back against the walls of the cave and listen to the hiss and shuffle of the waves outside competing with the thumping of my heart.

The cold. The cave. The cozy room waiting for us back in Eileen’s farmhouse all contribute to the blood pumping around my veins and into my cock. I can’t hold back.

I feel blindly inside my jacket and wind her hair around my fingers, holding her mouth on me, not letting her go. She instinctively resists, but I’m already ejaculating into her mouth, my cock pulsing, my cum shooting down her throat.

Moments pass. My brain is still recovering from the intensity of the moment, and I can’t speak.

Then Ruby’s face appears in front of me, and she kisses me on the lips. I taste myself, sour, salty, surreal. “That’s one way to warm up.”

We stay inside the cave until our clothes are turning stiff with the salt before making our way back into the village. We buy a peculiar marionette with a face that could be either male or female dressed in a frilly white shirt and red corduroy dungarees, and a Noughts and Crosses board game with tiny figurines cloaked in red and black robes for pieces.

That evening we eat steak and ale pie in the local pub and wash it down with a pint of Guinness which the landlord assures us is good for our blood. We listen to the gentle accent of the locals, play pool with two silver-haired fishermen who beat us easily,and dance around the bar tables to Roxy Music’s ‘Avalon’, me twirling Ruby around with one arm above her head and trying not to fall over.

Then we wander back to the farmhouse in the dark, our hearts filled with new memories.

And at night, in the safety of our furry makeshift tent, I take my time exploring Ruby’s body.

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