A Promise of Passion

by Maggie Carpenter

  Feeling perplexed, and wondering what it was he was missing, he walked swiftly across to the bar and poured himself a shot of scotch. Downing the liquor, as it burned through his throat, he thought back to the moment.

  Had the twinge had been a warning? He didn’t feel danger lurking, but it meant something. Alana was indispensable. He needed her to reach his goal. He’d gone to a great deal of trouble, and was deeply immersed in his plan. No, he wasn’t prepared to pull her out, at least, not yet. He’d keep moving forward, but watch Alana closely.

  Thinking back over the night, she’d caught him off guard at the dinner table. He’d been expecting a slap, or an icy protest, certainly not a glass of champagne in his lap. That had been an overreaction, but he had no complaints. On the contrary, the entire situation had worked to his benefit. The evening had been successful beyond his expectations.

  “Perhaps that’s it,” he muttered. “She’s volatile. She won’t react the way I think she will. She’s like a rogue pawn on a chessboard. I can handle that. It might make things even more interesting.”

  “I’m ready.”

  Turning around he saw her walking towards him dressed in ballet slippers, black leggings, and a long, sensual, slinky, off-the-shoulder tunic. Her hair was brushed and softly floating around her shoulders, and having washed off her makeup she looked almost youthful. Harry frowned.

  You silly girl. If you’d come into the Bare Beauty interview looking like that, and you’d been friendlier, you would have been a serious contender. You’ve been in the business long enough to have known that.

  As she neared he saw the suggestion of a pert nipple against the flimsy fabric of her top, and when she titled her head to the side and smiled at him, the twinge he felt had nothing to do with his instincts, and everything to do with his cock. She looked sexy as hell, and was that a fuck me now look in her eye?

  “Harry? Are you okay?”

  “Yes, sorry, I was thinking about business,” he replied. “Do you have everything?”

  “I’m all set.”

  “What about your phone?”

  “It’s turned off, and I’m not turning it back on unless you’re with me. God only knows what might be on it.”

  “That has my approval,” he agreed. “Let’s go.”

  She had a hobo bag slung over her shoulder, and as they left the suite and headed past the security guard towards the elevator, she took hold of his hand.

  “You don’t mind do you?” she asked, lowering her voice.

  “Not at all,” he replied, but he didn’t look at her.

  He couldn’t.

  Her hand was astonishingly soft, and as she’d curled her fingers into his, his half-erect manhood had abruptly surged to full attention. Entering the elevator, he punched a code into a small keypad located above the floor numbers, and as the wood paneled elevator whisked them to the top floor, Alana squeezed his hand.

  “Thank you again for this,” she murmured.

  “It’s nothing,” he replied, doing his best to ignore his now raging erection.

  A low ding sounded as the elevator slowed, and when the doors opened, a man dressed in a black suit, starched white shirt, and a black tie was waiting to greet them.

  “Welcome home, Mr. Harrison,” he said formally, in a crisp British accent.

  “Thank you, Charles.”

  Alana took in a breath as she stepped into the opulent room. It boasted glossy marble floors and large Persian rugs, and as well as the sofas, chairs and tables, a shining black grand piano sat off to one side.

  “Charles, this is Alana,” Harry began. “She’ll be staying in the blue room. She is not to be disturbed. Any calls?”

  “Yes, Mr. Harrison, they’re on your desk, but there’s nothing urgent.”

  “Good, I won’t need you again, but please bring me my coffee around six a.m. I have some important calls to make first thing.”

  “Of course, Mr. Harrison. Nice to meet you, Miss Alana, goodnight.”

  “Nice to meet you too,” Alana replied.

  The man stepped into the elevator, and as the doors closed, Harry gestured for Alana to start down the wide hallway.

  “Your room will be very quiet, and you’ll be completely safe up here.”

  “I’ve never seen a keypad in an elevator before,” she remarked.

  “It’s the latest in security for places like this. No keys, and the combination is changed every morning. Here we are.”

  Opening a white door, Alana stepped into a beautifully appointed bedroom, and as the brass plaque announcing its name implied, it was decorated in blue and white. The canopy bed was white wrought iron and brass, with a blue and white comforter and matching cushions. The windows overlooked the city, but heavy dark blue velvet drapes hung on either side.

  “This is gorgeous,” she smiled, “and I’ll bet those are blackout drapes, right?”

  “Right. Every bedroom has blackout drapes,” he nodded. “Now I’ll leave so you can get some much needed rest.”

  “Thank you. I can’t wait to hit the sack,” she yawned, releasing his hand.

  “Good night, Alana.”

  “Harry, before you go…” she said hesitantly.

  “Yes?”

  “I just have a question, if I may?”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “Do you do that often?”

  “What? Spank bratty women?”

  “Uh, yes,” she said softly.

  “If they deserve it, and the circumstances allow for it. Don’t you know about my Chateau?”

  “You have a Chateau?”

  “It’s no secret,” he smiled. “There’s a laptop on the desk there. Feel free to use it if you’re not too tired. Search, Chateau Paradis Hédoniste. It also comes up under Chateau Hedonistic Haven, and The Hedonistic Haven.”

  “That sounds intriguing,” she smiled. “Is it like a sex club or something?”

  “Or something,” he replied, raising a single eyebrow. “The site will tell you everything you need to know.”

  “I will definitely look it up.”

  “Now it’s my turn to ask you something,” he said, casually leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

  “Fair enough.”

  “Was it terrible?.”

  “You mean, when you spanked me?” she asked quietly.

  Her face was suddenly turning red. Regardless of what she said, she’d just given him the answer. It had tantalized her.

  “No, not, uh, terrible. It was, kind of…hot…in a weird way, you know, hot, like, sexy.”

  “Yes, I know,” he murmured. “Sleep well, Alana. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Moving through the door and closing it behind him, he started back down the hall towards his bedroom suite. The phone messages sitting on his desk in the study could wait. He had an urgent need in his trousers. Stripping off and laying on his bed he took his cock in his hand, but even as he began the erotic massage, the undefinable twinge hovered in his head. Pushing it aside, promising himself he’d stay aware, he allowed the delicious sensations to take hold.

  In the blue room, Alan had slipped into a long-sleeved T-shirt, and as she climbed into bed, she had a satisfied smile on her face. Yawning heavily, she switched off the lamp on the bedside table and slid between the inviting Egyptian cotton sheets.

  “Things are definitely moving in the right direction,” she muttered. “Tonight worked out even better than I’d hoped.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Slowly waking from sleep, Vivien rolled over and snuggled against Dominic’s warm, strong body. His arm moved around her shoulder and pulled her closer, and as she melted into him, she heard the splattering of raindrops against the window.

  “London rain, what a wonderful sound,” she whispered. “I love the farm, but it’s so good to be back here.”

  “And in my arms,” he crooned.

  “Yes, most especially in your arms,” she sighed.

  Rolling her on to her back, he droppe
d his mouth to her nipples and gently sucked, and sending his hand between her legs he found her deliciously moist. She moaned softly as she reached for his cock, already stiff and wanting her, and as he shifted his body to reach for a condom she let out a disgruntled groan.

  “How much longer must we deal with condoms?”

  “We must be safe, and you don’t wish to be pregnant, do you?” he softly replied, kneeling up and slipping the sheath into place.

  “Please can we go to a doctor and get tested for everything tomorrow, and I’ll go on the pill or something.”

  “Oui,” he smiled. “I would like this very much.”

  “Thank God,” she muttered as he pushed her legs apart with his knees. “I want to feel you, not a covered you.”

  “It will be divine,” he murmured, lowering his lips to her ear.

  Her whimpers of pleasure filled the small bedroom as he slowly thrust forward, and as his mouth devoured her neck she lolled her head to the side, moaning softly as he traveled his kisses down to her shoulder. Lowering his weight on top of her, he pushed his hands under her backside, clutching her cheeks as he stroked. With her utterances of passion as his guide, he varied his speed, surging like a jackhammer, then slowing to tease her as she caught her breath, continuing the dance until he knew she was nearing the edge.

  “Do you remember the flogger?” he whispered.

  “Yes, oh, yes, I remember,” she panted, her hands clutching his back.

  “I will take you to a dungeon and let you feel another one, a different one.”

  “Different?” she managed.

  “Heavier, and you will be weak in the chains.”

  His words inflamed her hovering orgasm, firing her forward, and as she struggled under his weight, he accelerated his pumping.

  “I will place sparkling clamps on your nipples,” he continued, “and you will beg for your climax.”

  “Ooh, I’m begging now,” she bleated. “It’s on me, please don’t stop.”

  But he did, for just a few seconds, then surged forward, fucking her with strong, powerful strokes as his groans joined her euphoric wails, until their glorious orgasms had passed, and breathlessly he slipped away and rolled off her on to his back.

  “I’m so happy,” she panted.

  “I know what would make you a little bit happier,” he said, his heart still racing.

  “You do? I can’t imagine it,” she mumbled, letting out a heavy breath as she curled into the crook of his arm.

  “A cup of tea.”

  “Ooh, Dominic, you’re right,” she agreed, lifting her head. “I would love a cup of tea.”

  “You stay here and enjoy the sound of the rain. I will be right back and we’ll have a cup of tea in bed together.”

  “What a wonderful thing, except it means you have to leave me.”

  “Only for a moment,” he smiled, kissing her lightly.

  He slipped out of bed, and still wrapped in her post-orgasmic bliss, she listened to the water splashing on the window panes. As she let her mind drift, she recalled what Harry Harrison had said to Gustav when he’d stopped by their table the night before.

  Why don’t you shoot Vivien for your new campaign at my Chateau?

  Harry owned a decadent Chateau, and Gustav had agreed it would be ideal for the upcoming Spank Me Now jeans campaign. The idea that she’d be spending time in such a place was totally tantalizing.

  “I wonder what it’s like,” she murmured. “I wonder if it has more than one dungeon. It must have, surely. Oh, I hope it works out. It would be so much fun!”

  The sound of a distant ringing, followed by Dominic’s voice, broke into her thoughts, and glancing at the clock she saw it was almost ten-thirty. She’d managed a decent night’s sleep, though she still felt slightly jet lagged. It was only a few minutes later when Dominic returned carrying a tray with cups of tea, and a plate with toast smothered in butter and jam.

  “That looks so good,” she smiled. “Thank you.”

  Carefully placing the tray on her dressing table, he lifted off her cup and saucer and carried it over to her.

  “Here you are, Madame,” he said, placing it into her hands.

  “Did I hear you on the phone?”

  “Oui, it was a good friend of mine, Walter Fairmont. Did I ever mention him?” Dominic asked, fetching his own tea and the plate with toast.

  “Only in passing.”

  “His portrait was one of the paintings that gave me…sorry, I can’t think of the English word. In French it is, reconnaissance…made me known.”

  “Recognition?”

  “That’s the word, recognition. His portrait was the one that gave me big recognition.”

  “I’d like to meet him,” Vivien said, eyeing the delicious-looking toast. “I want to meet all your friends. We’d barely got off the ground before I went home last year.”

  “This is true,” he sighed, settling in next to her, “and we will make it a point to do all of that. Entertain, meet each other’s friends, I promise.”

  “You look a bit worried,” she remarked.

  “No, not worried, just…”

  “Just?”

  “Walter Fairmont is the man who built the Fairmont Shopping Centers. He has a son and a daughter, and he wants to see me to discuss painting their portraits.”

  “That’s great!”

  “He said he must see me this afternoon.”

  “Then go and see him.”

  “It is very short notice, and you have your test shots for Bare Beauty. I want to be there for you.”

  “You don’t need to be. I am feeling so much better, besides, it might even be weird having my boyfriend with me.”

  “Your boyfriend?” he grinned.

  “Isn’t that what you are? Was that a bad thing to say?” she said hastily, feeling her face flush red. “Sorry, I know it’s kind of juvenile.”

  “No, no, I love it. I am your boyfriend, but you’re right, it feels very young to say that,” he chuckled. “We say, petit ami. I am your petit ami.”

  “What would that make me? In French, I mean?”

  “You are my, la petite amie.”

  “Cool,” she grinned, “but getting back to your friend, I really think you should go. If it’s so urgent that he wants to see you today, he must have a reason.”

  “I am happy to put him off to support you,” he said softly.

  “You don’t need to. I feel great. I promise.”

  “Okay, then I will call him and tell him yes, but I don’t know about committing to a double portrait. That is a very big job, and I am looking forward to working with Gustav in the coming months. I think taking on that much work would be too much.”

  “You should still go and see him. Maybe he just wants a small portrait.”

  “A small portrait?” Dominic laughed. “Small is a term not often used by these people, but I will go and hear what he wants.”

  “Good, now that settled, tell me more about this Chateau.”

  “Ah, Chateau Paradis Hédoniste,” he said slowly nodding his head.

  “What does that mean?”

  “In English, it means, Chateau Hedonistic Haven, and while I am taking my shower, you must look it up on your laptop. It is like a very big playground for people like us. Men who are dominant, and women who are submissive.”

  “How cool is that?”

  “It is very cool,” Dominic grinned, “and I have been there. It is very beautiful.”

  “If Harry Harrison is behind it, I’m sure it is. Wait…so this means Harry must be a Dominant.”

  “This is well-known in the circles.”

  “Circles?”

  “The circles of people who socialize and are dominant or submissive. I will take you to some places when we have the time.”

  “That’s why he had no problem throwing Alana over his shoulder last night. I wonder if he spanked her.”

  “I would say, most probably.”

  “Good grief, I would love
to have seen that!” Vivien laughed. “Why didn’t you tell me about him?”

  “I probably would have at some point. We had many other things to talk about, and to do,” he winked, “and now I will leave you to finish off the toast. I’m going to shower.”

  “Could you bring me my laptop? It’s on my desk being charged.”

  “For you, ma chérie, anything,” he murmured, and placing his cup carefully on the nightstand, he lowered his lips to hers and softly kissed her.

  Vivien was enthralled with Chateau Paradis Hédoniste. The pictures were mesmerizing, and the thought that Gustav might use it as their location sent her head reeling. Even if he didn’t, she wanted Dominic to take her there, and sweep her down to one of the dungeons and do unspeakable things to her body. When he came out of the bathroom and announced the shower was hers, she lifted her eyes from the laptop, staring at him with an erotic hunger.

  “This place is amazing!”

  “The Chateau?” he smiled. “It is very amazing.”

  “I do hope Gustav decides to shoot there.”

  “He will!” Dominic said firmly as he started to dress.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because, it’s a good idea, and Harry suggested it. He may not be involved in Gustav’s clothing business, but he is financing the cosmetics, so Gustav will be inclined to take him up on his offer. It’s human nature to please those who support us. Remember, Vivien, regardless of anything, the man who has the gold, has the power.”

  “Or the woman,” she remarked.

  “Oui, or the woman,” he nodded, “and the gold isn’t necessarily money. The gold could be anything. The gold is what the other person wants.”

  “You’re right,” she said thoughtfully. “Those are wise words.”

  “One of my clients said it to me many years ago. He said I had the gold as an artist, and never to underestimate its value. It was one of the things that gave me the confidence to ask for a high price for my work.”