Free Faith by Ashe Barker Page A

moment, panting. My heart rate slows down to something resembling normal. I manage to find the strength to unclasp my ankles and straighten one leg. The other remains hooked around Ewan’s hips. He rolls to the opposite side, dragging me with him so I find myself draped across his body. He makes no attempt to disengage from me. I’m conscious of his cock only slightly softening inside my cunt.
    “You alright, Faith?” His tone is low, gravelly. His breathing is still laboured, which pleases me. His seduction was not entirely effortless.
    “Mmm, I think so.”
    He lifts my hair, tilting my chin up so he can see my face. “You think?”
    “I can’t be sure, not until we’ve done that a couple more times.”
    His anxious expression dissolves into a grin. “Brat. You’ll be staying the night then?”

Chapter Six
     
     
    I did stay the night, and most of the following morning. Ewan is inventive, demanding, an exciting, attentive, generous lover. In the weeks since we have spent every night together, usually at his house, sometimes at mine. His bed is bigger, so we prefer that. My kitchen is better stocked, so we usually come round here to eat although Ewan does most of the cooking.
    Although he’s not travelling at the moment, that doesn’t mean he isn’t working. His dining room has been converted to provide an efficient home office—another reason for eating at my house. Ewan tends to spend his days in there, working on the various projects he’s involved in, keeping up with correspondence, tendering for new jobs though I gather that most of his clients approach him.
    I’m working out my notice at Em See Squared. My attic studio is ready. The loft has been converted into a superb workspace, even better than I imagined. I’ve invested in a powerful desktop computer with a huge, flat screen, loaded with the latest in design software. I’m ready to go. All I need now are some orders.
    I have enough cash in reserve to be able to support myself for six months, though I’m confident that in that time I’ll be able to bring in at least some business. Ewan will be my first client. He wants me to overhaul his company website, so between that, and designing my own marketing materials, I’ll be busy for the first few weeks.
    Life is exhilarating, the future bright. I’m bursting with optimism. Enthusiasm drips from me. For the first time I can remember, I’m consciously happy. Fulfilled.
     
    * * *
     
    Ewan is leaving today. He’ll be in Paris for the next three weeks, then on to Oslo for some preliminary discussions about a new velodrome. He invited me to go with him, at least for some of the trip, and I suppose I could have. Paris and Oslo are not actually that far away. But my own fledgling business needs my attention. If I’m serious about making a success of this venture, I need to apply myself, I need to make it my priority. Good sex is a bonus, and there’ll be plenty more of that when Ewan returns.
    I’ve been beavering away in my attic for three weeks now. Ewan’s website is looking sleek, modern, uncluttered. I’ve placed adverts in various trade press publications, and I’m starting to develop my social media presence.
    I call my business just simply Faith . It makes sense to me.
    Most important, I’ve hooked my first clients as an independent supplier. A local nursery want a logo and signage, and the motorcycle spares shop that Ed used to frequent most weekends heard that I’d set up alone and offered me the job of designing their latest sales promotion leaflets. They expected mates’ rates, but we managed to do a deal. I’m making ends meet.
    The first Friday that Ewan is out of the country I consider making a return visit to Sheffield. It’s been a few weeks since my last spanking, and I long to feel the sharp sting of a paddle against my buttocks. Who would have imagined that? It’s true though, but still I don’t go.
    Ewan wouldn’t like it. I haven’t mentioned it to him, of course