La Bonne

by Michèle de Lully

  “Pretend I’m Petros,” I said. I was already too attached to her. I didn’t want her becoming any more attached to me. What if she moaned my name while she was with him?

  She said something in Greek, of which I could only catch his name.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  She repeated it in French. “Petros, my love, use my body for your pleasure.”

  And I did.

  Ramming up against her, I ground my pelvis against my hand and the back of the dildo. I humped and pounded her for my own pleasure, barely registering her moans, the way her hips thrust willing back into mine, the glorious warmth of her thighs underneath me. Images of Petros filled my head, Petros on top of me, on top of her, grunting in ecstasy, taking his pleasure from ours. I fucked her until I came, and only after that, while I was lying on top of her trying to catch my breath, did I remember the delicacy of the opening I was exploiting.

  I mumbled something apologetic into her hair.

  “Will he be that rough?” she whispered hopefully.

  “If you want him to,” I told her. “Even harder, if you ask him right.”

  “Mon dieu,” she whimpered, and I had to hold her from behind while she masturbated herself to a second climax, her body heaving slightly less than the bed and the ship.

  When the lights suddenly went out, I wondered what kind of monster I had awakened. Would Petros be happy when his virgin bride begged for such perversions?

  But in the dark, her warmth and my exhaustion were more than the storm could defeat. I fell asleep to the sound of pounding wind and rain and the rocking of the boat like a cradle.

  Chapter Nine

  We slept through the storm. Petros and the crew fought for our lives, the yacht trapped in waves it was not meant to face, its little engine and low decks meant for the placid sea, not the angry ocean. But sailing is about sailors as much as it is about ships, and so Petros brought us all safely into the morning sun, oblivious to our danger. I only figured it out later from news reports of the damage the storm had done to the islands.

  Petros, of course, said nothing about it. I got a few hints from the attitude of the crew—they were more cocky, humbled, serious, and elated all at the same time. Men are strange beasts.

  But not as strange as the creature I had created. Amanda’s confidence grew in leaps and bounds. Every day she inserted herself deeper into Petros’s life, becoming a partner in more than just promises. He watched her with the same look every man has when he has met his match, surprised to discover that he needed what he had always run from.

  And every night, she was insatiable. We leapt into bed and attacked each other, relieving our mutual need of Petros. Amanda was in many ways a better lover than any man I had ever been with—soft, gentle, giving, and, thanks to the miracle of plastic, always able.

  I couldn’t pretend it was all about Petros, either. There was no way Petros would allow me to mount and dominate him like I did Amanda every night. And I couldn’t pretend I did it only for her anymore. Merely thinking about the image of her underneath me, climaxing as I violated her body, never failed to shorten my breath or set my heart racing. This was particularly inappropriate whenever the three of us were sunbathing on the deck, clad in little more than scraps of silk.

  We stopped at the island of Tinos and Petros gave the crew some shore leave. I immediately started dreaming about finding a real sex-shop, one with all manner of implements I was suddenly eager to try out on my little golden doll. I had never seen the allure of gags and chains and whips, but then, I had never imagined using them on a beautiful aristocrat before. The vision of Amanda on her hands and knees, with a bridle in her mouth and a pony-tail sticking out her rump while I rode her around her fabulous bedroom, chastising her with a riding crop, made me crazy.

  Time was running out for me. There were only a few days of the cruise left, and then a few weeks before the wedding. So my fantasies were running out of control. I let them go wild. There didn’t seem to be any harm in it. Amanda and I spent the day shopping for clothes and knick-knacks, while I imagined her lying naked in piles of expensive dresses and begging me to use her.

  When Petros met us on the ship with a face as black as the stormy sky that had almost killed us all, my heart froze.

  He knows, I thought, and the world crashed down around me.

  “What is wrong, my love?” Amanda said, with perfect innocence. No, not innocence, but concern—for him. I don’t think she knew what guilt was.

  “I must show you something,” he said. I recognized the strange quality in his voice as anger and I was afraid.

  He led us to our cabin, my heart stuttering the entire way. I knew he would reach into the drawer and pull out that dildo, and then—anger, humiliation, disgrace. I was practicing my speech, preparing to take all the blame, to declare Amanda’s total innocence. Really, I was. This time, I would do something for someone else, no matter what the cost to me.

  “I can explain,” I whimpered, as he opened the door. The flash of anger in his eyes terrified me, worse than lightning.

  “You can explain this?” he snarled, pointing to where the First Mate stood glaring at a hole in the wall of our cabin.

  Dumbfounded, I could only stare.

  “No,” said Amanda. “We can’t explain that. Why did you tear a hole in our wall?”

  “To get to this,” Petros growled, striding across the room and taking a small object from the First Mate. He brought it back to us, and for a moment I could not guess what it was.

  But Amanda recognized it immediately.

  “A camera,” she whispered. The weapon of her only natural enemy—the paparazzi.

  “I was checking for storm damage,” the First Mate explained. “This panel had been disturbed, the film in the camera is fresh. I believe one of the crew has been filming the ladies at night.”

  “Who?” Amanda asked.

  I couldn’t think enough to ask questions. All I could think about was what we had done last night.

  “We don’t know yet. Most of the crew is on shore. I will go and find them, and see how they are spending their leave.” The First Mate’s voice was more threatening than Petros’s eyes.

  “We can’t act without knowledge,” cautioned Petros. “But do not worry, my dear. They will ask for money first. Pictures of pretty girls in their nightclothes are not so valuable, even when they are pictures of royalty.”

  “They might be of more than just nightclothes,” Amanda said. “Or rather, less.”

  I was stricken with awe at her coolness.

  Petros could not stop his eyebrows from arching, ever so slightly, at the thought of Amanda naked. What man could? Aside from the First Mate, whose brows lowered and glowered even more, if that were possible.

  “Still,” Petros said, “nudity is nothing to be ashamed of, so the price will be low. They know they can get more from us than from the tabloids. I am sorry that such scum should invade your privacy, but the damage is limited.”

  “That is easy for you to say,” snapped Amanda. “But I was a guest on your ship. And this is how I am treated?”

  My awe turned into amazement. How did the dragon get on board the ship, and what had she done with Amanda? The creature standing before me was Dame Cheroigne, in everything but body.

  “We will recover the film,” soothed Petros. “It will not be watched. The men who did see it will be bribed and threatened into silence.”

  “You would pay men who watched me naked before even you did? This is how you would honor your future wife?”

  If her goal was to inflame him, it succeeded. Petros’s face darkened so much I began to tremble in fear.

  “Perhaps more threatened than bribed,” he said, and although his voice was smooth and even, it was the scariest thing I had ever heard him say.

  The men left, the way men do when they’re going to do something, leaving the door open behind them, their one-track minds leaving no room for thought of anything else. I closed the d
oor, and crossed the room to where Amanda was sitting on the bed.

  “Amanda,” I whispered. “What are we going to do?” I wanted to hug her, but I was frankly scared of the dragon.

  She turned to me, just a child again, tears in her eyes as her face trembled and collapsed. I hugged her then while she cried. I cried, too.

  Sometime later, I tried to comfort her with words.

  “He won’t watch the tape. And he won’t believe them when they talk about it.”

  But she was inconsolable. “All my life Grandma told me to be careful. And I should have been.”

  No more tears from me. Reduced to a mistake, an error in judgment, I felt that familiar distance return, the gulf that had always held me apart even from the men I gave my body to. I became stone again.

  She felt my coldness and did not understand. She clung to me, seeking comfort, but my arms hung at my sides like dead weight.

  “What?” she whispered, but I could not speak. I had been here before. I knew what came next, contemptuous dismissal of my childishness, rage at my unreasonable demands, and then silence, when he stormed out to drink with his mates. This was how every relationship I had ever had ended.

  But I had never been in a relationship with a woman before.

  “Tell me,” she begged, showering me in kisses, touching my face. “Tell me,” she cried, pressing into me, seeking shelter, seeking…contact.

  My world spun around me.

  “Why are you angry with me?” she cried. “I’m sorry I didn’t think about the danger. I know I should have protected us, but I thought we were safe here.”

  I had thought I was safe here, too.

  “What are we going to do?” she sobbed again.

  “We?” I said. “There is no we. Even a hint of what is on that tape, and the Dame will fire me. I will go back to jail.”

  She froze in shock. I recoiled inside, anticipating the blow, the hateful words, the rejection. I was revealed to her now, no secrets, no pride, just a criminal on probation.

  “No,” she said. “No, I cannot lose you too. I will not allow it.”

  “How will you prevent it?” I said bitterly.

  “We won’t go home. We’ll stay here, in Greece. Petros will find us an island, and we will hide there until they forget. They always forget, in time.”

  “What?” I was thoroughly confused.

  “The press always forgets. And whatever crime you committed in France cannot be so serious. They will not extradite you. We can live on just the jewelry I brought with me. And I have trust funds they can’t touch. We will survive.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about my life,” she said. “I’m tired of living it for others. I won’t lose you.”

  “But you would lose everything else. The estate, the title…your rank. Petros.”

  “I never truly enjoyed that house until you came into it. And if Petros leaves me over this, he is not the man I thought he was. I have found something I want for myself, and I will keep it.”

  And she kissed me so fiercely my lips hurt. But it was nothing compared to the constriction in my chest, the pressure in my head, the fire that burned low inside me seeking permission to consume my soul.

  “You would give up everything for me?” In all the stories, for all of time, the prince throws away a kingdom for love. But how could I have guessed a princess would do the same?

  “For us,” she said, and kissed me again.

  My soul shattered, and I knew I could never be stone again. I broke into her arms and sobbed, for all the dreams I had given up on, for all the hopes I had buried in shallow graves in the murk of despair.

  “Do you love me?” I whispered.

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes. I did not know until I was faced with losing you, but now I do. I love Petros, as I always have and always will. I burn for his touch, I live for his approving gaze, but if I must choose, I choose you.”

  Her conviction was a little frightening. Could I return it in equal measure? Would I turn away Petros for her?

  “Must we choose?” I asked, hopelessly.

  “I don’t see why. Men of my class always have mistresses, why can’t I? If you can share me with Petros, then he can share me with you.”

  “Or you could share Petros with me,” I said, before I could stop myself.

  Her eyebrows rose a little. “I didn’t know you were interested.”

  “What? All women are interested in him, Amanda. How could you miss that?”

  She shrugged. “You always seem so cynical about men. I wasn’t sure you liked them.”

  Thinking back, I could see how she got that idea. I didn’t normally discuss my old lovers with my current paramour, and I had been treating Amanda more and more like a lover than a friend.

  “I like men,” I assured her. “I like Petros. And he likes me. He was kissing me on the deck, just a few days ago.”

  Her beautiful lips formed an “O” of shock, but I rushed on before the harm could sink in.

  “He can hardly blame you for fooling around with me if he was doing the same.”

  “Fooling around?” she said uncertainly.

  “Just kissing, Amanda. Nothing like what we do. He’s only flirting with me. He has some romantic notion that I’m wild and independent and will free him from his boring aristocratic life.”

  She smiled tenderly, touching my face. “I know where he gets that idea.”

  “But you see,” I pressed on, “he can’t possibly hold it against you. He’ll have to forgive you, and then you can be together.”

  “But where will you be?” she asked. “And he is not free. He cannot walk away from his rank. I have no responsibilities, only an old lady’s dreams of nobility to protect. But his country still needs him. He still has a place in politics, a duty to his people.”

  I had no answer to this.

  “Promise you will stay with me, no matter what,” she asked.

  I did. With all my heart.

  “Then the rest we will manage.”

  We kissed for a while, drawing strength from each other.

  I said it first. “Should we tell him? What’s on the tape, I mean. It might be better to let him know from us.” I dreaded that confrontation, but I loved Petros enough to spare him from the shock.

  Amanda nuzzled at my ear. “Maybe we should show him,” she whispered, and her hand stroked my breast.

  The sudden vision of Petros walking in and seeing us kissing and touching like this took my breath away.

  “Aren’t men supposed to like watching girls together?” she asked.

  “God knows the men I’ve known never shut up about it. But this might be different. This is his future wife and her servant. Two women he claims to be in love with.”

  She raised her eyebrows again. I decided to come clean with it all at once. “He talked about running away with me. But we both knew it could never happen.” Then I hugged her, trying to erase my betrayal.

  “Then he does love you,” she said. “I can hardly blame him, for I love you too.”

  “Is it possible?” I whispered. “Could we…could the three of us…”

  “We won’t know until we try,” she said. “I came on this trip to seduce Petros, to make him truly mine, and I brought you to help me. Now I realize that you have seduced me and made me yours. Do you truly want Petros, or are you only saying this to please me?”

  This girl was crazy in love with me, if she couldn’t even imagine that I would want that Greek god to ravish me.

  “Yes, Amanda, I want him. I love you desperately, but he is the man I have always dreamed of. But what about you? Are you sure you’re interested in men, that way?”

  “I’m sure,” she said. “From the way I feel inside when he kisses me. From thinking about what it would be like to have his hands, his lips, his tongue on me, like yours. Thinking of lying between the two of you, kissed and touched on either side. Thinking of being underneath, both of you taking turns
lying on top of me…”

  “We have to stop now,” I whispered, my hands under her clothes, her fingers inside my shorts and my body, connecting me to her like an electric wire.

  “Say you love me,” she answered, “and then I can face the rest of the day.”

  “I love you.” And I did. In this sameness of a sister, I had found the reflection that made me whole. In her innocence, I had found untainted love.

  —

  At dinner, we had one answer. A crewmember could not be found. The same haughty steward who had brought me champagne and caviar, while hiding a camera in my bedroom. The First Mate was set on a course of destruction like a torpedo, and the rest of the crew seemed to approve. Petros was his normal self on the surface, but I knew him well enough now to know that the taint of failure and betrayal burned him underneath his careful politeness.

  It made for a difficult dinner.

  “My love,” Amanda said to him while the coffee was being served. “Could we retire to my cabin? There are some details about our wedding that I need to discuss.”

  “Of course,” he said graciously.

  I had to admire her skill. She had done a plausible job of acting as if he had already taken care of any other problems. I certainly hadn’t helped. My heart was pounding too hard with the anticipation of what we had planned. At first, from fear of rejection or anger on his part, but as the evening went on, it became more and more about pure lust.

  In our cabin, as I tried to sit discreetly on a cushion while Amanda sat on the bed as regal as a queen, he spoke first.

  “You need not worry, my dear ladies. I have called in a few favors from government sources.” The fact that he was even talking about his efforts told me he was deeply unhappy with the lack of results.

  “There are some things you should know,” Amanda said. “That pertain to the tape and to our marriage. Specifically, things involving my maid.”

  Petros had the honesty to blush. “I am sorry, Amanda. I did not intend to hurt you.”

  “Was that what you thought when you were kissing her? Groping her on the deck of your ship, while I lay sleeping?” Amanda was being mean, I thought, and considerably disingenuous. She had been masturbating with a carrot, not sleeping.