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This chapter is also build up sorry but once I actually write a chapter with sex I'll post where to skip to.

After an hour, he didn't think she was going to come, and was debating leaving when he heard the car door open and the nimble frame of Harry slide into the seat next to him, dumping her rucksack in the foot well and only glancing at Warren before looking back down at her fidgeting hands. She had changed out of her gown, now in just a pair of jeans and a t-shirt under a bomber jacket, but her hunting knife was still sheathed on her thigh.

"I didn't think you'd come," he said, and she shrugged.

"Neither did I."

"Then why did you?"

"It's what my mam would've wanted."

When she didn't elaborate, he put the car in gear and drove out of the small estate in which she used to live. They drove in silence for most of the trip, Warren's house being a little ways out from the city. It was a family mansion that was far enough away from anyone to not have to worry about neighbours but close enough not to be deemed isolated. It took an hour to walk to even the nearest shop, but Warren liked the solitude. Just as he was pulling into the long driveway of the house, Harry finally spoke.

"What's your name?" she asked, and Warren was taken aback. It never occurred to him that the girls weren't even told who they were meeting.

"Warren," he said. "Warren Denu."

"It's nice to meet you Warren Denu," she said just as he parked, then grabbed her bag and opened the car door, stepping out into the sun. He turned off the engine and followed suit, stepping around the car to stand beside her.

She stared in awe. "You live here?" she asked, and he nodded.

"It's just me so I only live on the ground floor. I don't even have staff so you'll have to help out sometimes with chores."

She shrugged. "That's fine, gives me something to do."

He led her in the front door and brought her round on a tour of the parts of the house he used. There was a kitchen, small living room, bathroom and office all on the left side of the entry hall, so he didn't often go around the other parts of the mansion. He finally brought her around to the bedrooms.

"This one is mine," he said, and then led her further down the hall. "And this one's yours."

"You don't want to share?" she asked, and he shrugged.

"We don't even know each other. I'm not going to force you into my bed."

Harry nodded and dumped her bag on the king sized bed. Unbeknown to her, Warren had regretted his choice of words right after he said them, and kept having to force visions of roughly manhandling her into his bed down into the recesses of his mind, and telling his dick to shut up fantasising.

"I'll leave you to unpack. I'll be in the kitchen making dinner if you need me," he said and then left the room, closing the door behind him.

He stood in the kitchen chopping carrots when when she came back down, sitting opposite at the island. "Do you need any help?" she asked and he shook his head.

"It's fine, I'm almost done anyways." With that, he scooped up the carrot and deposited it in the pot before putting it on the simmer and turning back to Harry. She was sitting awkwardly, unsure of what to do or say.

"So," he said. "What do you like to do?"

She relaxed a little. "Well, I enjoy reading, camping, and eating. I really like eating. What about you?"

"I like cooking and baking, annoying my friends and reading classics."

"Oooo," she said. "An educated man. And you're cooking better be up to scratch if you wanna deal with my love of eating."

He chuckled and they continued talking until the dinner was ready, then he served it up and sat next to her at the counter. "Does the judge approve?" he asked, and she nodded, spooning another mouthful of stew into her mouth. He tried hard not to stare but her mouth was so hot and he could swear she was sucking the spoon clean just to tease him.

"So, Warren, if you wouldn't mind cleaning the surfaces, I'll do the washing up. It's only fair after you cooked."

He smiled and nodded, bringing their plates to the sink before grabbing a cloth.

He stood over her, towering over her small frame and trapping her against the wall. "What happened to platonic?" she asked, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"How can I keep things platonic when you're so fucking perfect for me Harry."

She blushed. No-one had ever called her perfect before. "I'm not perfect you know. You'd be disappointed if you got to know me. I don't even look perfect."

He growled, and the sound went straight to her pussy. His hand wrapped around her throat. Not tightly, just enough to let her know who was in charge. "Don't insult your body," he said, shoving a hand under her bra and his cold fingers pinched her nipple. "You're insulting my taste in woman."

She whimpered, unknowingly making him want her more. He kissed her again, claiming her mouth, forcing her to submit, and she did. She pulled away after a minute, remembering that she wasn't supposed to want him, to want this. "We shouldn't. I can't," she panted, and he pulled his hand from her t-shirt making her whine.

"You can't, or you won't?" he growled in her ear. "If you really want me to stop, say 'red'." When she didn't say it, his hand went back up her top and mauled her breast, torturing her nipples, making her gasp. He covered her gasp with another kiss, this time encouraging her to reciprocate. His tongue slid across her lips and she parted them for him and letting him explore her mouth. She did her best to return the favour but it was obvious how inexperienced she was.

He pulled his hand from her breast and she whined in need, but he lifted her up and carried her to the counter with ease, his mouth over hers the whole time. She hoped he would start touching her in more interesting places, because if he held off any longer, she was going to form a puddle of arousal on the countertop.

His mouth left hers and he looked down at her with more longing and lust than any person had before.To every man she'd met before, she'd been a weirdo, but right now she felt like a queen in his eyes. He took his hands off her and she looked at him in desperation. She needed him badly.

"Before we go any further," he said. "We need to establish some things. You're new at this, so I can't treat you like I would my usual women. It'd be unfair on you."

She whined in protest. The last thing she wanted to do right now was talk.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a dominant. I like you Harry, you're so hot and strong and yet you submit to me so easily. But we need to lay down some ground rules, okay? If you are uncomfortable with something, or you want me to stop at any time, just say 'red', do you understand?"

She nodded adamantly.

"If we're doing this, we do this my way. You do what I say, when I say it. I'm in charge. I decide what happens. Can you deal with that?"

She thought for a moment then slowly brought her eyes back up to meet his. "You'll stop if I ask you to? You won't do something I don't want?"

"I'll stop if you say red."

She nodded and he moved in to her. He pushed a strand of hair from her flushed face. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm nervous. I've never done this before."

"Then I'll have to make it good," he said with a sly smile and she shivered. "I think I have to make you a little less nervous," he said as he stepped forward and pushed her knees apart, stepping into her and running his hand down from her neck until it reached the waistband of her trousers, far too slowly for her liking. She held her breath as his fingers edged ever closer, brushing his hand over her naval, then the waistband of her panties, and against her thighs.

"Breathe, sweetness," he said and she complied, exhaling as his fingers inched ever closer, until his finger finally brushed over her labia, then her other labia, just the slightest taps, just making her more desperate. She hugged his shoulders as his other hand replaced itself around her neck and he covered her moans with his mouth.

He inched ever closer to her clit, with just the most gentle brushes and taps. She had never been this needy in her life. She never even really masturbated before.
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