A Chamber of Delights (16 page)

Sophie ran her finger over the soft curves of one breast. Then she looked up from the wet, hard stud of Gael’s teat. ‘I loved it. The man’s an animal. He got me over a hay bale and pried my bum apart.’

Gael closed her eyes. She knew how that would have felt. There was something about anal penetration which turned an ordinary orgasm into an avalanche of exquisite sensations. Would Flanders try to take her that way too? But if she let him, that would be capitulation, unless he tied her helplessly first. She couldn’t just kneel over a bale of hay and present her bottom to him. No – that wasn’t true. She could do that – but she wouldn’t.

‘Do you like your arse fucked, miss?’ Sophie ran the flat of her hand down Gael’s belly and stroked her mons.

‘If I’m in the mood for it.’

Sophie kissed her lips. ‘I’d like to lick your arse. It’s really wicked the way it winks. Can I lick it now?’

Gael stopped stroking Sophie’s breast. Would she like
that? She had liked it when James had hoisted her over his shoulder and presented her bottom and her genitals to the other two. She had wriggled as someone had run their tongue around her anal ring. But did she want that from Sophie now?

‘Perhaps some other time. I think we ought to sleep, don’t you?’

Sophie turned. She put her face between Gael’s legs and breathed hotly on her vulva.

Gael found the pouting sex lips of the girl presented to her mouth. She put her head between the warm, firm legs and kissed the swollen lips.

Sophie moaned and sucked Gael’s nub.

Gael responded dreamily. She took the firm little stud of Sophie’s clitoris and licked it once or twice.

And then they slept for just two hours before the alarm clock shocked them into a busy day.

AS THE CLOCK
struck eleven, Gael was sitting in the study over her third cup of black coffee.

Three of her guests had rung to ask if she could put on a party for them. Money, to them, was no object, so she was smiling to herself when Todd Flanders entered. She looked up and frowned.

‘What do you want?’

‘I’ve come for my money.’

Now she scowled. ‘Surely you weren’t serious when you told me to put money on the offering plate.’ She looked him up and down, his shirt open as usual to show his chest, his shorts bulging.

‘No – I didn’t expect you to pay for what you had last night.’

‘What money do you want, then? I gave you your wages a few days ago.’

‘You told me to find another job. I want paying for the last three days.’

Recalling how she’d told him he was fired, she thought quickly. ‘Look – I was a bit hasty. I was tired. And I was angry.’

‘Angry at my cock?’

‘Leave your
cock
out of this.’

‘That’s not what you wanted last night,’ he smirked.

She scowled again. ‘Why can’t you talk about something else but your prick?’

‘But you liked my
prick
when it was angry.’

‘All right, all right. So I liked your prick. Now let’s drop it and be serious.’

‘I am serious about fucking you again.’

She stood up angrily. ‘For Christ’s sake will you shut up! I don’t want that from you. Do I make myself clear?’

He shrugged. ‘Your mind might not want it but your pussy does.’ He nodded to the crotch of her jeans.

She was wet. She had began to moisten the minute she had seen him. And the argument with him about his penis had made her belly tremble. She did want him. She wanted him here and now. She wanted to rip his shorts down and take that wicked cock in her mouth and bring it to such hardness that she’d feel every millimetre of it as she eased herself down on it. She cursed herself – she was fantasising about the fellow yet again.

He fixed her eyes with his gaze. ‘So – do I keep the job or not?’

She pretended to think for a while. ‘All right. You can keep the gardening job, on two conditions.’

He smirked. ‘That I pleasure you twice a day?’

She ignored the quip. ‘You can stay if you don’t have tantrums every time I want to cut flowers for the house.’

‘And?’ He raised one eyebrow.

‘And if you help me with a special project in the house occasionally.’

‘What kind of “project”?’

She shrugged. ‘Doing what you’re good at.’

‘I can’t plant flowers in the house. And I’m not polishing or dusting.’

‘I didn’t mean that kind of thing.’

He moved in closer. ‘What kind of “thing” did you mean, then?’ He took her hand and put the palm to his bulge.

Now she hesitated, stopping herself from closing her
eyes as she felt his heat. ‘I might need a man for something else.’

He dropped her hand now that he had fazed her. His face showed more interest but he kept his manner stony. ‘What else, exactly?’

Now she lost her nerve. ‘Fixing furniture and general maintenance.’

‘All right. I don’t mind a bit of screwing and banging now and then.’

‘Do you ever talk about anything but sex?’

He shrugged. ‘Will that be all, miss?’

‘Yes, it will. Now – you’d better get back to your work. The boundary hedge needs cutting.’

‘I’ll cut it when I’m ready.’ He looked at her haughtily.

She confronted him closely. ‘You’ll do what I want you to.’

‘And what do you want me to do right now, miss? Take your knickers down and kiss your quim?’

Gael felt a flush go to her cheeks. Her knees were weak, her belly churning.

He took her chin between his fingers and made her look into his eyes. His breath was hot upon her mouth, and as he closed his lips to hers, she held herself taut.

‘You might think you can rule me, miss,’ he whispered. ‘But I can’t be ruled.’

He slipped the buttons of her blouse and ran a finger over a nipple. It stood hard immediately, confirming that she liked him doing that.

He put his lips to hers again and whispered softly, ‘And if I want to fuck you, I will – in whatever way I like. Wherever I like and whenever I like. As long as you understand that, I’ll stay. If you don’t like it, you can find another gardener to plough your furrow.’

He turned and left.

Gael screwed up a piece of writing paper and threw it at his back. Damn the man. He had her hooked. But he
was so arrogant. She should have stuck to her resolve and kept him at arm’s length.

Melindi arrived unannounced on her way from New York to Paris. Gael was excited to see her and Sophie was clearly delighted. But when Gael saw knowing glances pass between them, she felt left out.

‘I heard the party went like a bomb.’ Melindi smiled as she sat in the drawing-room sipping a dry Martini.

‘How did you hear that?’ Gael was on the edge of her seat. She knew that news travelled fast around the circuit but not that fast, surely.

‘That Francine of Francine de Paris told me when I went into her Knightsbridge salon to get my hair fixed.’

Gael gave her a sideways glance. Melindi didn’t have the kind of hair that needed ‘fixing’. She’d been on a fishing expedition.

‘So?’

‘So,’ Melindi said, her eyes twinkling naughtily, ‘I hear she did a little bit of cutting and setting last night.’

Gael raised her nose. ‘And what if she did?’

Melindi grinned, seemingly amused at disconcerting Gael. ‘You ought to have been a hairdresser, Pinky. You wouldn’t have needed that old confessional. Just a basin and a chair. But I think it was inspirational of you to think that one up. They loved it. Are some of them going to get their fantasies worked out?’

Gael sat back and pretended to be nonchalant. ‘Perhaps.’

‘Don’t “perhaps” me, Pinky. You know damn well they are. Can I join in?’

‘That depends on how long you’re going to stay.’

Melindi screwed up her face. ‘Got to get back the day after tomorrow. Jean-Paul’s show on Wednesday, Mashimoto’s in Tokyo at the weekend.’ She sighed and wiped her brow theatrically.

‘Don’t give me that bull. You love it.’

‘I love the loot they pay.’ Melindi grinned that face-wide, piano-key grin Gael had come to love so much. It lit her up.

Sophie came in with a tray of coffee and biscuits. Gael thought that she looked even more provocative than ever. Her jeans were so tight Gael could see the form of her vulval lips, and the tight pink T-shirt she wore made her look quite naked above the waist.

She handed Gael yet another coffee, set the tray down on a finely veneered table and stood by Melindi’s chair, swinging her hips.

Melindi caressed her bottom with a long hand. ‘And has my little slave been behaving herself while I’ve been away?’ It was said both to Gael and the girl.

Sophie gave Melindi a coy little smile and tossed her hair. ‘Of course I’ve been behaving.’

‘Fibber.’ Gael frowned at her.

Melindi smacked the tight, round bottom hard. ‘Have you been bothering the gardener again? I’ll whip you if you have.’ She spanked Sophie again, playfully.

Sophie pouted. ‘Is it my fault if he won’t leave me alone?’

‘I’m not surprised he won’t let you alone. The way you flash your tits and push your mount out at him, the man would have to be made of stone if he didn’t make a move on you.’

Sophie smirked. ‘Why, Miss Melindi, I do believe you’re jealous.’

Melindi put her head back and laughed. ‘Jealous of you and Flanders? You’re so naïve, my pet.’ She began to saw a hand between Sophie’s legs, rubbing at her sex lips. ‘I’ve just been screwed almost into the bedsprings by two of the horniest and the richest men in New York. The gardener doesn’t really interest me.’

By the look on Melindi’s face, Gael knew that wasn’t true. Melindi certainly didn’t keep Todd Flanders there just so that her housemaid could have someone to play
with. By the way Melindi’s eyes lit up each time his name was mentioned, Gael was sure that there had been something quite deep between the gardener and the owner of the house.

Melindi pulled down the zip of Sophie’s fly and said quite casually as she drove a finger deep between the girl’s legs, ‘And how many men did you contrive to accommodate in here last night?’

Sophie wriggled her jeans down to her thighs and widened her stance. ‘I went for a ride in a very expensive car. That’s all.’

Melindi smirked as she sawed the finger through the lips of Sophie’s sex. ‘How nice for you. Now – let me guess. It wasn’t a red Ferrari with a soft top, by any chance?’

Sophie pouted again.

Melindi hooked the finger up into the housemaid’s vulva, as if examining her. ‘Yes, I can see that you’ve had a gear stick in here, you wicked creature. And I suppose he made you change gear with his prick.’

Sophie frowned petulantly as Melindi withdrew the finger and zipped her up. Then she slapped the girl’s bottom and whispered, ‘I’ll play with you later, darling. Now, who are we going to amuse ourselves with today?’

Gael looked at them both. ‘Do you girls want to work out tonight?’

Melindi slitted her eyes. ‘What kind of “work-out” do you have in mind, my little pink marshmallow?’

‘Just a few exercises in a gym. Then a sauna, a jacuzzi, and a massage.’

Now Melindi studied her hard. ‘And what’s the ulterior motive, pink pussy lips?’

Gael got up to leave. ‘You’ll see. I think you’ll enjoy yourselves.’ She turned in the doorway. ‘Oh – while I remember – bring a whip and some handcuffs, will you?’

MAXIMILLIANS WAS PLUSH.
It was not the kind of place Gael would think of as a gym. It was more like a palace with exercise equipment placed among antique furniture.

In the marble-pillared changing rooms, Gael spotted the one-way glass she’d had described to her. A long telephone conversation with Maximillian had worked out all the details that morning.

Maximillian was more attractive than she’d remembered him to be. Bronzed and muscular, his Italianate complexion and upright stance seemed to fit him with the marble facings and the Roman-style baths. They exchanged cursory greetings as Gael led the girls into the changing rooms.

Now they were alone, Melindi looked at Sophie then at Gael. She grinned as she produced a short-handled whip with long, thin thongs of leather. She whacked the whip stock in her hand.

‘So what’s the job, Pinky?’

Gael shrugged. ‘We just work out on the equipment in the gym next door.’

Sophie was clearly puzzled. ‘Is that all?’

‘Of course. Except . . .’

Melindi closed on Gael and fixed her with those searching eyes which made Gael melt every time they scanned her; particularly when she was naked.

‘Except what, my little pink morsel?’ She flicked Gael’s thigh with the whip and made her jump.

‘Except we do it nude.’

‘And?’ Melindi raised an eyebrow.

‘And the guy watches us,’ she whispered, gesturing to the mirror. ‘So let’s put on a good show, shall we?’

Melindi scowled playfully. ‘Is that all? I have men eyeing me naked all the time in the dressing rooms at shows.’

‘So it won’t be a problem for you then.’

‘It doesn’t sound very exciting, that’s all. What else does your boyfriend do apart from gawping at us naked?’

‘He
doesn’t do anything.
We
chastise him for being a very naughty boy.’

Melindi grinned and whacked the whip again. ‘Oh, good. That sounds like more fun. When do we start?’

Gael undressed Melindi slowly, making sure she was facing the mirrored wall. She lifted the hem of a white T-shirt, exposing the deep navel then the breasts she loved to touch. With Melindi’s arms above her head, her breasts were taut, their nipples already long. Gael fingered them from behind to make them stick out at the mirror. Then, standing behind Melindi, she slipped her hands into the waistband of the model’s slacks and slowly pulled them down. She watched in the mirror as the prominent pubis came to view, covered in little black curls. When Melindi stepped elegantly out of her slacks and cast them aside with her foot, she was magnificent. Tall and slim and graceful, she looked the part of a Nubian princess. Gael wanted to kiss her satiny skin all over.