A Taste of Pleasure (13 page)

She went to her room, packed her things, and took a cab to Versailles, where she settled in her new room. She wondered where he was and thought about him and their wonderful time together at the bridge. She knew it had been him . . . his cologne told her so. She smiled at the thought of him and hoped he would be on the return flight home, seated next to her, tempting her deliciously again.

Today, she would be visiting Le Château. She dressed in a black skirt, comfortable heels, and a clinging top. She looked and felt great. She had planned for this all of her life. Her dreams and research had drawn her here. Her hotel was within
walking distance to Le Château, and the stroll was fun over the ageless bricks. She imagined the stories those bricks would tell, if only they could talk, from the building of this magnificent palace, to the many wars and the awful Revolution. When she saw the golden gate with the emblem of the Sun King, Louis XIV, on it, she smiled from ear to ear. She marveled at the majestic fortress, and for a few minutes, she forgot about her sexual hunger, until she heard footsteps behind her. There was the faint smell of that familiar cologne, causing tingles in the pit of her stomach. She didn't dare to turn around as she approached the entrance to the Château.

She stood in line, waiting for the door to open, and she sensed him behind her. She knew it was Deacon, and she smiled to herself as his body heat touched her. Her sex was aflame but she played along with him, keeping her eyes glued straight ahead. The door opened to the palace and they followed a guide up the queen's staircase to the rooms above. He never left her side. She felt him looking at her—wanting her, and she felt herself being pulled toward him like a magnet.

As they walked toward the queen's flowery bedroom, he grabbed her hand and pulled her behind the screen, cupped her face, and kissed her warmly on the lips, his hand fondling her between her legs.

“I thoroughly enjoyed you on the bridge,” he whispered in her ear as his face touched her neck, his five-o'clock shadow rough on her skin. She felt his hands cupping her breasts, pinching the ends and pushing them hard toward her body. She looked deep into the dark, penetrating eyes of her predator, who now held her prisoner. She wanted him so much, she could feel her body ready for him. The juices flowed out of her as she fell prey to his magical fingers on her hot spots.

He opened the door behind the screen and moved her
with him into the tunnel that ran from the queen's room to the king's. The walls were gray and rough. He picked her up and put her legs around him, his hardness penetrating deep into her wetness. She felt him deep within her as he filled her emptiness. He pumped into her rhythmically, slowly, kissing her deeply, holding her close. She felt herself building up to an orgasm, her body tingling—trembling to a climax. She loved the feeling. Welcomed it—waited for it as she felt him grow within her, pulsating, pushing, and prodding her to move her body in circles, bumping and grinding against him. The rough plaster of the walls caused her to have feelings never experienced before. A mixture of pain and pleasure that was simply erotic. He held her close as he detonated within her and she erupted all around him.

He held her tighter, kissing her gently. She wrapped her arms around his neck, loving the closeness she felt. He placed her legs on the floor and offered her a tissue, which she gratefully accepted. They left the tunnel and merged discreetly into the crowd gathered in the queen's bedroom. He held her hand as they walked nonchalantly through the Hall of Mirrors, a room the length of a football field, lined with chandeliers that were now plastic replicas of the crystal originals. The windows in the room overlooked the gardens. They wandered through the rest of the palace.

On their way out, he asked her to meet him for dinner at the local café to spend an enjoyable evening together. She accepted with a smile as he bent down and kissed her tenderly. They parted ways, but she carried him within her heart as she walked away.

She bathed and put on a short black halter dress that flowed with her every movement, along with the usual black silky thigh-highs and stilettos. She grabbed her black silk wrap
and dashed out to meet him. Her hair glistened in the moonlight and she inhaled the crisp night air. She walked quickly to the restaurant, her heels clicking on the sidewalk. She turned to the side and saw the Château, which looked ghostly in the night sky, its size overwhelming.

She was almost at the restaurant when suddenly someone grabbed her, pulling her into the alley, his mouth covering her with a kiss that stirred her desires. She knew it was him with that damn cologne, and it always had the same physical effect on her. She was ready to be mounted. She had a feeling this was going to be longer than just a quickie. His lips never left hers as he carried her up the steps to a room he had rented for the evening.

She was hypnotized by his kisses, the smell of him, and his masculinity. His strong arms laid her on the bed as he slid on top of her, cupping her face with his hands. His eyes never left her face while he untied her dress. He slipped it off her, kissing every inch of her body. He descended slowly into her passionate abyss, opening her legs to welcome his tongue. He licked her vulva up to her button and back down to her wet opening, sucking her until it swelled and she moaned.

“Please take me, I need you so badly,” she pleaded. She unzipped his pants and slipped them off. He positioned himself at her disposal, kneeling over her as he worked his way back down to her awaiting sex. She eased underneath him to indulge herself in his bulge. Her lips slowly parted as they moved over his swollen head. She licked it, toyed with it, and sucked it till the precum started, her body shivering, moving from one side to the other in passion's play. She grabbed his ass, pulling it toward her, pulling him deeper and deeper into her throat, gagging slightly as she reached across the bed for her purse and pulled out her small vibrator. She stuck it in her mouth to wet it and
then carefully reached up to his ass and touched his anus gently, moving the vibrator in circles around there. She inserted it into him. He sucked in a deep breath in shock as she turned it on.

“Oh my God!” he yelled. “What the hell are you doing?” He was straining to turn and look back at her as he squirmed. She smiled a naughty smile with a wink as she held it in place and swallowed all of his hardness. He shot a mouthful of cum into her, and she swallowed it as he continued consuming her wetness. She felt herself building as she continued to hold his cock in her mouth, toying with it as he trembled, using her tongue to torture him further. She came slowly and with much relief.

They both collapsed on the bed. He moved up by her, cuddled her in his arms, kissing her as he continued. She returned his kisses on his chest, mouth, and eyelids. She had conquered him once again, or so she thought, beating him at his own game of surprises and leaving him starving for more. He put his fingers inside her, massaging her, taunting her, taking them out and touching her tenderness, then rubbing her some more. He went down and kissed her again and flicked his tongue back and forth across her arousal zone while she moaned with delight. She tried to get some rhythm out of him, some form or something inside her, moving her body so his hand would be next to her sex. The possible invasion of one finger was all she needed right now. She would do anything for pleasure and he was sure of it

He took her toy, washed it, and put it inside her as she screamed with delight, knowing that soon she would be reaching a full orgasm again. He left it there and flipped her over, using her black stockings to tie her to the bedposts. This she didn't like because she couldn't touch herself. He spanked her as she squirmed to free herself. He put lubricant on and rubbed his cock across her ass.

“My dear, you're going to be fucked like you've never been fucked before.” He placed his member by the opening of her anus and slowly, gently entered her, much to her protest. She squirmed and moved as much as she could, but to no avail. He was entering a place never entered before and there was nothing she could do. The toy took care of one place as he pumped slowly into the other. He could feel the vibrations as he reveled at the position he had her in. He was relentless. He felt himself close to coming, but he held on until her body shook as she screamed into climax. He fell onto the bed, completely spent. He pulled the toy out of her and untied her so she could cuddle into his arms. She whimpered a little, but held on tight as her breathing returned to normal. He smiled as he touched her face and kissed her again and again.

Deacon had possessed her more than any man she knew, and she hoped he would never finish the game. To her, Paris was more than just the Eiffel Tower. She now knew it as the land of love and passion beyond her wildest dreams. She adored the way he made love to her. Like a tornado he whipped through her, taking her with him on a wildly passionate ride. She snuggled deep into his arms and fell asleep.

The next morning, she awoke to an empty bed, a red rose, and a note:
YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL
,
SEE YOU SOON
. He was gone. A plate of warm croissants waited for her beside a still-steaming cup of coffee. As she nibbled and sipped fervently, she daydreamed of encounters with her lover.

She freshened up, got dressed, and left the room, taking the rose with her. She felt uncomfortable waking down the street in the daylight with her evening attire on, but in Paris it seemed that anything goes.

Back in her hotel room, she took a bath and dressed in a denim skirt, a loosely fitting top that plunged off one shoulder,
and crisp white tennis shoes. She was on a mission to a private house that held many art and Egyptian artifacts. She took the Metro, feeling great and excited about meeting up with her lover. She wasn't sure when or where, but she knew he was around somewhere. She kept searching for the intoxicating aroma of his cologne to warn her that sex was in the air. She exited the Metro and walked to the house, which loomed in the Paris sky. She knew the history of this wonderful place and was going to spend all day there. She walked for miles, viewing incredible historic pictures, statues, Egyptian mummies, and artifacts. They were the wonders of the world, all in one fantastic place. She was so impressed and awed by all the history that she did not notice the man approaching her. He touched her backside with tenderness and kissed her neck. She turned around to slap him, but of course it was her true love. He kissed her warmly and held her close.

“Miss me?” he whispered in her ear.

She smiled, “Yes, you left me alone this morning.”

“Did you find the rose?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Then you were not alone,
oui
?”

She smiled at his reasoning. He scooped her up in his arms and kissed her passionately while others stared in envy at their romantic antics inside the Egyptian chambers.

“Would you like to be taken right here, right now?” he whispered in her ear. She blushed.

“Not in front of all these people.”

He laughed. “Oh, you're suddenly so shy? Shame on you!”

He took her hand, leading her away to a room that was not part of the usual tour. He took her in his arms and kissed her, caressing her body, her face, her back, and her neck down to her perky breasts. She escaped as the world fell away and, in
place of it, had this wonderful feeling of passion. She didn't know where she was, and she didn't care. All that mattered was that she was with him.

He lifted her up onto a desk, spreading her legs open. He got on his knees to kiss and fondle her. Her head flew back as her arms spread wide on the desk. Books, papers, and pens leaped off the leather-topped desk. She tugged at his hair, messing it up. The faster he went, the wilder she became. He came up and kissed her, unbuttoning her blouse as he kissed her breasts and planted kisses all the way back down where he took her again.

“Don't stop . . . please don't stop!” she yelled as he threw her into a frenzy of multiple orgasms.

He smiled and held her in his arms for a few seconds, then unzipped his pants. His hardness popped out, aroused and almost jealous of what just took place without him. He pointed it at her opening and slowly slid it into her wet, silky walls. He raised her legs up over his shoulders and took her again with so much force and rapture that he came almost instantly, exploding twice against her as he hollered her name and sent it echoing through the chambers. He didn't care who heard him. He handed her a tissue and she wiped herself dry. He helped her down off the desk and showed her a private restroom where she could freshen up.

She returned to find him sitting behind the desk, rearranging the items that had spilled onto the floor during their fury.

“Whose office is this?” she asked.

“It's my uncle's. He's the curator of this place.”

“How interesting. My minor was in history, and he's just who I've been looking for.”

“And you, my dear, are exactly what I've been searching for.”

He grinned and came over to hug her again. She nestled in
his arms as he walked her over to the Corinthian leather love seat and there they sat enjoying each other.

“Oh, by the way, his name is Dr. Jacques Manqué. Would you like to wait for him?”

“Of course,” she replied.

Once Dr. Manqué arrived, the rest of the day quickly faded away as London fired off questions. The doctor happily obliged. Deacon sat quietly, admiring her.

They thanked Dr. Manqué and headed out for their last evening in Paris together. London was filled with exuberance, and it was a night full of exciting tours and a delicious meal, but best of all was the dessert, which was just being in Deacon's arms.

She awoke the next morning to find him lying beside her. She studied him, his thick brown lashes, his full lower lip in a half smile, and the faint five-o'clock shadow that showed off his dark beard, all of which accented his sex appeal. She smiled and snuggled back into the bedcovers, dreading the time when they would be back home and back to the daily grind at work. She hoped that at least the return flight might be as exciting as it was getting to France, full of passion, fun, and games.