Liz sat on the edge of her bed with her head in her hands. She had not expected Ira to live forever; he'd reminded her often enough that he was already living on borrowed time. Somehow, though, Liz assumed that the event of his passing would be at least that - an event of note. Instead, thanks to Ira's forethought and preparation, his death was just a small hiccup in Liz's day.
It seemed like another world and another life since Ford had announced the news of Ira's passing. It had only been hours. Attorney Morgan Cameron handled everything, leaving Liz with nothing to do but wonder about the state of her life going forward.
She wasn't worried about money. Ira had established a very generous monetary figure weeks before they recited their vows as man and wife. More importantly, he had made a promise in that regard. And over the course of their short marriage Ira had proven to be a man of his word.
That he deeded the house over to her was an unexpected twist for Liz. She just assumed that one of the condominiums Ira owned would be made available for her to select. Knowing that the responsibility of the entire mansion now fell on her shoulders was a daunting proposition.
Thank goodness for Ford, Liz thought. She'd felt genuine relief when Ira's attorney announced that the butler would be staying on. He had, Morgan Cameron explained, chosen to accept Ira's proposition that he remain to service Liz.
Her ears grew hot just thinking about the conversation. Attorney Cameron had no way of knowing just what the word 'service' meant in regard to Liz and Ford. And now that Ira was gone, Liz would not allow her thoughts to revisit a part of her life that was certainly over.
Certainly, Ford knew that part was over?
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Ford?"
Ford stopped drying his hair and straightened when he heard the soft, tentative voice on the other side of his door. His lips curled up into what - on anyone else - could easily be mistaken for a smile. The select few from his past who knew Ford would have recognized the expression as the emergence of the angry, manipulative child who lived inside the man, the one who had never gotten over his abrupt ouster from his early life of privilege with Ira.
"Coming, Mrs."
Ford shed his thick terry robe and retrieved the damp towel he'd just thrown into the bathroom hamper. He tied the plush towel low on his hips and ruffled the spiky tips of his still-damp hair. There was no sense of urgency on his part to answer the door. Over the course of his late night visits to the mistress' bedroom, he had learned to read her fairly well. It was amazing how much of a woman's character could be revealed during a good fuck.
"Hello, Mrs." Ford opened his bedroom door. He widened his eyes a fraction, as though caught off guard by Elizabeth's presence.
Elizabeth stared at Ford's nearly naked state a minute before forcing her gaze up to meet his eyes. "I didn't get a chance to thank you for staying on here. Attorney Cameron told me you agreed to. Frankly, it was a little reassuring to know that I wouldn't have to deal with...everything...by myself."
"You are welcome, Mrs." Ford stepped back and gestured Liz into the room. When she hesitated, Ford leaned in. "I would prefer not to draw idle attention, Mrs."
Just as he knew it would, the mention of curious eyes tilted the scale in Ford's favor. Liz stepped just inside the threshold. Deliberately Ford invaded her personal space just long enough to reach around her and close the door. "It was the Master's wish that I provide whatever you need during this time. He was," Ford continued, quite adamant about the matter. In fact, Mrs., I was just preparing myself to come to you."
Liz backed into the door with a thud. "I don't it's proper to even talk about...that. That was what I came to tell you."
"But it was the Master's final request of me," Ford lied calmly. He tugged at the knot that held the bath towel on his hips. It pooled around his feet, leaving clear evidence of his body's readiness. "It was his desire that you spend no time grieving his death."
"I-I'm sorry, Ford, I can't."
Ford ignored the half-hearted denial. Elizabeth's fate was sealed the moment Ford heard her knock on his door. If Ira's widow had truly intended to spend the evening in mourning for her husband, she should never have journeyed alone to Ford's private quarters.
"It is what the Master wanted." Ford grasped Liz's hand and wrapped her lifeless fingers around his erection. The butler began to thrust into her hand, silently signaling for Liz to stroke him. She hesitantly complied and Ford smiled to himself. "Yes, Mrs., just like that."
Ford enjoyed Liz's ministrations for a moment or two. The hardest part of his plan had just been accomplished. It would not be long before he had her on her knees before him, swallowing the length of him in an effort to please.
"Thank you, Mrs., but I am here to service you...not the other way around." Ford gently removed Liz's hand and began to undress her. Once done, the butler slid on a condom from his underwear drawer.
The act seemed to unlock Liz's almost frozen state. She turned and moved toward the bed, as she had done all those times in her bedroom. "Oh, no, Mrs." Liz gasped as she felt herself pushed across the room and thrust face-down across the back of a heavy, padded leather chair. "Tonight we begin here."
