‘I fell in love with a bastard and a crook, a very rich man, but well things happened, I ran away, I was penniless. He always called me a whore and I am a whore, I must be because I almost did it, I almost went on the streets.’
‘You needed a good reason to do that. More than running away from a man you were scared of. What was it, darling, tell me?’
‘One night, I didn’t even have the marks for a dry bread roll. I’m ashamed to say it, but I put on a cheap coat and high heeled shoes and cheap seamed stockings - as it seemed blasphemy to casually fuck a guy in real silk – and I walked out onto the streets. I must have been born for a life of sin, because so many men approached me and followed me like I was a bitch on heat. I thought I can do this; I can do what I never thought I could do, since it’s for a good reason. The trouble is I couldn’t go through with it.’
‘A bread roll would be as good a reason as any,’ Michael said suspiciously. ‘And what the hell – you didn’t actually do it anyway, so what’s the problem?’
Her eyes beaded with tears. They welled up and it was more than she could do to hold them back. ‘Oh, Michael, there’s more.’ Her fingers coaxed his nipples and slid down to his hard cock. ‘I’d tell you, but I’m afraid you’d run away, all men run away.’
‘I’m Michael Levenstein and I’m not about to run away. You can tell me anything.’ He grabbed hold of her, kissing her deeply and Imogen pressed her lips to his and her tongue thrust inside greedily, caressing and feathering his mouth.
She was quiet a moment. ‘I have a daughter called Anni.’ She held her breath; she could feel Michael’s warm heartbeat. ‘So, you see how impossible things are?’
‘Where is she, where’s your daughter?’
‘She stays with a good friend of mine, Frau Helga Streiber.’
Michael was winding his fingers through her hair. ‘And you see her, do you? Why isn’t Anni here?’ His fingers were continuing to pluck and fondle.
‘It’s a long story. But, when I came to Berlin I met Helga Streiber and she was very kind to me. As you can see this is a shit place and no place for a kid, she took Anni and said she’d look after her.’
Imogen’s heart was thumping harder than ever, as she stared at Michael. ‘So now everything I do is for Anni. I save all the money I can and I put it into a bank account. So you see how it was, Michael. It wasn’t just about a bread roll. I thought I could fuck anyone if it meant I could take care of Louis’s little girl. I’d murder for Anni, but I couldn’t, because you see, you see … sex without love is nothing and I couldn’t do it, I might be a silk stocking whore but I’m not a cunt whore. Although, Louis called me his cunt whore.’
A tear rolled down her cheek and he trapped it. Then Michael slithered down the bed and Imogen rested her heels on his shoulders. He stroked the silk stockings very slowly with his hands and then he kissed them and unclipping her suspenders he rolled them down. Imogen shivered, it was a slow shiver which started in her toes and spread up over her body to the tips of her hair.
‘Imogen, you know something, I don’t care a fuck what you did or, who you were. I don’t care a flying fuck.’
She was holding her breath as Michael gradually eased the silk stockings down her leg kissing each inch of flesh as he went, propelling the spiralling warmth up out of her in delicious satisfying ripples.
‘Michael, what are you doing?’
‘It occurs to me I never saw you without them.’ He took one off, stroking her foot with his fingers and tickling the sole so she stretched and tingled with pleasure.
‘You know something.’ He grinned, ‘You’re one sexy lady, you silk stocking whore. But, I want to try this out. I need to see if I still get the same kick from this sexy bare leg. He began to roll down the other silk stocking, and gradually, very gradually began to kiss his way all the way up.
Imogen groaned, a fire was growing now, a tantalising cunt fire and she reached down and spread her fingers through her thatch and teased herself. ‘Michael, ah Michael.’ It was too much to bear, this rising tide of, not just passion, but something else – dare she call it love? ‘Oh my God, Michael.’ He drew her up and onto his knees and while he stroked and held her thighs she lowered herself onto his pole. Then Michael began unknotting the silk stocking chastity belt and threw it onto the bed. ‘I don’t think we need that any more, do you?’
‘Michael I ..?’
He put his fingers on her lips.
‘Enough, we’ll talk about it later.’
She buried her mouth in his fine blond hair and as she moved up and down Michael put his fingers between her butt cheeks and he butt fucked her. The pleasure rose in unimaginable spirals and her orgasm came with butt clenching fury. She cried out, not from pain but pleasure.
‘Hey, it wasn’t that bad, was it?’
‘No, it was perfect.’
‘Well then, Mrs Silk Stocking?’
‘Don’t joke, Michael.’
‘I’m not. Tomorrow you can wave goodbye to this flea pit and I’ll move you into the Adlon Kempinski Hotel.’
‘My God, you can’t.’
‘Sure I can.’
‘If Louis is tailing me, he’d find me there. It’s on the Unter den Linden, he used to go there all the time to meet his business associates. I can’t do that. He’d threaten me, he’s always called me a whore and God knows, he’ll take Anni away from me.’
Michael squeezed her hand. ‘That shit heads not scaring me; you’ll be safe with me, besides I want to meet Anni. Hell, if you’re that scared we can get dressed and we can get a car and go and get Anni right this minute. I’ll shoot the bastard if he tries to take her off you.’
She shook her head. ‘No Michael, it’s very sweet, but you don’t know Louis.’ She moistened her lips. ‘I’m scared. Last night, I got a letter. I think Louis as been having me watched for weeks. Adele Weinberger upstairs is sure she’s seen him. If he knows that much about me he might already suspect where Anni is. He’d find her.’
‘He can’t take her, baby.’
‘Yes, yes he can, Michael. He can do anything. He thinks I’m a whore.’
‘And from what you tell me he’s just a two-bit crook. Show me the letter!’
Imogen clambered off the bed and going to her locked jewellery box she sprung the catch and came back carrying the letter. Her fingers were trembling as if the letter burnt. She held it out and he took it. He skimmed the words and his eyes normally so blue, so cool, became hard like ice. She could imagine how Michael Levenstein would look in the courtroom.
‘The guy’s trying to frighten you that’s all.’
She crawled onto the bed. ‘You don’t understand Louis, he killed people. I know you’ll say it’s not true but I know he did. He’s capable of anything.’
‘So what, the dude killed people.’ Michael folded the letter, then he cupped her cheek and she pressed her lips into his hand. ‘This isn’t a movie and it’s not that easy to kidnap people. Don’t worry, baby. Tomorrow I’ll ring my brother in Seattle, he’s a good lawyer and specialises in family law. He’ll know what to do and if he doesn’t I’ll get father on the line. Then, hell, we’ll get you out of here.’
A lump came into Imogen’s throat, her hands were shaking. ‘You’d do that for me?’
‘Baby, I’m gonna do it. This moment.’ Michael smiled and this time his smile was powerful and sweet and she saw another side to handsome Michael Levenstein and it was strong and sexy and she liked it. Her head swam pleasantly.
‘And if I need it I’ve got the power of the entire Levenstein family behind me. Now, babe come here.’ He held out his arms, and looping the stocking around her neck he drew her mouth down onto his. Imogen spread her legs over his narrow hips and she felt his cock press into her mound with a pleasant persistence.
‘I don’t think your family would like me much,’ she said. ‘I hardly think they’ll be happy having a silk stocking whore in the family.’
Michael laughed. ‘We may be Levens
teins but we’re grafters and we come from tough stock. You’d like my family, Imogen, and they’d like you.’
‘Why, do I believe you?’ she replied, thrumming with ecstasy as she trailed her fingers across his face. ‘I do believe you.’
‘Here’s the plan.’ Michael whispered.
Chapter Seven
IMOGEN DRESSED, SHE PUT on her simple blue dress and her string of pearls but for the first time she didn’t bother with the silk stockings. Next, she called Helga Streiber and taking a car, they drove out to the suburbs.
Helga had already dressed Anni in her cream coat and she wore a pair of pink stockings and buckled shoes. As they sat in the car she played with Imogen’s earrings and her face was glowing. She looked, Michael thought, adorable and just like her mama. He took them shopping and he bought her and Anni some new dresses and shoes and he never let her out of his sight. Gradually the fear left Imogen – maybe if Louis had been watching he’d been scared away. Michael bought her a square deco diamond engagement ring and then he bought tickets for New York.
Once, a long time ago, Imogen had walked through the same lounge of the Adlon Kempinski Hotel with Louis, in a pair of very high heels and in a fine silk dress and fine silk stockings, but that seemed a long time ago.
That night, they celebrated their engagement whilst Helga Streiber babysat Anni in their sumptuous suite.
Imogen felt like she was in a dream as she stared at Michael across the table. He’d asked for a small table, he’d been very specific and as she tried to eat her soup he slipped his hand up and down her legs, which were dressed now in the finest silk stockings money could buy. Upstairs, just for a laugh, he’d filled her make-up bag with Cervin.
He fucked her sensuously, his finger pressed into her cunt and a deadpan expression on his face. Occasionally he stroked her suspender belt, back and forth, before moving from cunt to suspender. Her spoon dropped with a rattle when she orgasmed and everyone looked. ‘Whoops.’
‘Whoops.’ Michael leaned over the table.
‘Well, ain’t this a pretty sight?’ Louis said.
Imogen was so startled she knocked over her glass of champagne spilling it on the white tablecloth. Her hand flew to her mouth and the blood drained from her face.
‘So, the stocking whore’s returned to her nesting place. You know, babe you always looked best in chic surroundings. I think there’s something classy about a sexy whore who hides it under the table.’
She had not broken her gaze with Michael who had now surreptitiously removed his cunt wet finger from under the table and whose eyes were like shards of ice in his handsome face.
‘Well, holy shit if it isn’t Louis Berner. I’ve been waiting to make your acquaintance Mr Berner,’ Michael said coldly.
Never had Imogen loved Michael more than in that moment as he sat back assuredly in his chair, before pushing it out a fraction he crossed his legs and hands over his belly and considered Louis coolly.
Louis, who was chewing on his customary cigar, stopped the movements of his mouth. He was surprised and no wonder, because Louis wasn’t used to being answered back.
‘What the hell?’ he said finally, grabbing hold of Michael’s collar and pulling him to his feet so he could stare in his face. ‘Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?’
Imogen was on her feet and her heart was thumping. ‘Louis, let him go, this isn’t worth it.’
‘And that goes for you too, you whore. Who do you think you’re talking to?’
Imogen’s lips trembled. By now everyone had noticed what was going on and they’d all stopped eating so they could watch the free entertainment. Louis’s grip was tightening.
‘Well Imogen, you sure surprise me, ’cause I sure as hell didn’t think you went for pretty boys.’
Michael’s more of a man than you’ll ever be,’ Imogen said. ‘You inhabit the sewers, Louis, that’s where you come from. You and your dirty money.’ Tears were stinging her eyes.
‘I’ve come to get my daughter,’ Louis said turning his attention to Imogen. ‘Where is she? ’Cause I’m taking her home. There ain’t no way on this earth I’m leaving her with her whoring mummy. Is this how you do it, babes? You go for men who can wine and dine you. Nice society men. How much you charging him?’
Imogen’s lips trembled. ‘How dare you!’
Louis had loosened his hold on Michael as two waiters headed their way. He straightened his tie. ‘Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you in court then?’
Imogen looked at Michael who was stroking down his collar; he didn’t seem at all perturbed.
‘I’ve seen a whole lot of guys like you, Mr Berner, so I won’t press charges,’ he said succinctly. ‘Why don’t you head on out of Dodge peacefully. Imogen’s not yours to worry about, come here, Imogen.’ He held out his hand and Imogen came around the table. Michael put his hand around her waist. ‘Perhaps you’ll say sorry to the future Mrs Levenstein.’
Louis burst into laughter. ‘You’re pulling my leg. You telling me you’re marrying this cunt whore?’
‘Sure, I love her and I’m marrying her, so if you want to take on the whole Levenstein family including my father Abel Levenstein, you’re welcome.’
Louis stared for a moment and his cheeks turned red. ‘You’re kidding me, you can’t be that Levenstein? How on God’s earth could a Levenstein go as low as to end up with this tart?’
Michael was stroking her butt with sensuous back and forward sweeps of his hand. When she looked at him, he was cool, cool and strong and she loved him more than ever.
‘I’m that Levenstein,’ he said. ‘And, I’d crawl through the sewers for this tart.’
Louis glanced at the waiters again, and then he stared at Imogen before he pointed his large thumb at her. ‘You realise you ain’t heard the last of this?’
Imogen said nothing.
Chapter Eight
LATER, SHE WAS SITTING on the edge of Anni’s bed and Michael came and leant against the doorframe, he was holding a glass of champagne. Imogen kissed her daughter’s forehead and then, strolling over to Michael, she stepped out into the suite’s sumptuous lounge quietly pulling the door up behind her. ‘Am I totally free of Louis?’ she asked, as taking the champagne she sipped it.
Michael was wriggling the peach lace peignoir he’d bought her that afternoon, up her leg and circling her skin with his thumb.
‘I’m thinking he could be a bug flying around our heads for awhile but he hasn’t got anything on you.’ Michael grinned. ‘My brother telephoned me this afternoon. I was going to keep what he said for when I was fucking you and we were just about to get to the high point in the proceedings, but I can’t wait.’
‘You dog.’ She wound her arms around his neck and Michael slid his finger into the slit between her butt cheeks and teased her hole.
‘Apparently, Louis Berner has a list of petty crimes so long I could nail him tomorrow, but I don’t think he wants that. I reckon he’ll keep his head down from now on. No one wants to tangle with a Levenstein.’ He studied her lips before touching them with his finger.
‘Thank God.’ Imogen replied, relaxing as her body folded around him.
‘You’re one hell of a beautiful silk stocking whore, do you know that?’
‘If any other guy said that to me now I’d string his balls up.’ She narrowed her eyes teasingly. ‘I may even string up his balls with my silk stockings.’
‘That sounds good to me. How would you do that? Describe it to me in graphic detail. How hard and how tight?’ He was laughing as he pushed his finger further inside her and Imogen shivered in warm orgasmic bliss, combing her hands through his thick hair.
‘Am I safe now, Michael, really safe?’
‘Sure you’re safe, you and Anni. Now, show me you Cervin bitch, show me how tight you’d bind me with those silk stockings.’
Her hand moved downwards and she began working his flies, before coming inside and against his bare testicles with slow determined purpose. Th
e thrill of sex felt even better now, better because she was free to fly with her emotions and she didn’t feel as if she was held in such tightly stretched, mental bondage by Louis. A warmth blossomed inside her, which was more than orgasm, it was intense burning ecstasy, melting away the last droplets of icy fear. She ran across the lounge and into their bedroom, and putting down her champagne class and dragging open the bedside drawer she picked up a handful of her Cervin stockings, waving them in front of him. ‘I’m about to show you how tight Michael. Something like this.’
Raising her arms she stripped off the peignoir, letting it slither to the floor with the hiss of exaggerated silk.
‘Holy Moses!’ Michael’s gaze flickered over her naked curves as she sashayed around him. ‘Wow.’ She’d creamed her legs and shaved her pubic thatch and she stood in front of him dressed in just her silk suspenders and as usual, her silk Cervin stockings. Imogen pushed Michael back against the wall, rubbing her crotch against his pant leg. When their lips met, the embrace was hot and wet and it was all to the accompaniment of Michael’s finger dancing in and out of her hole again as she ground her pelvis against his ramrod hard cock.
‘I’d tie them up so tight you’d scream … do you really want me to describe to you what I’d do next, or would you rather I showed you?’ Imogen’s hand was curling over his thrusting cock. Smoothing a stocking between her fingers, she ran her tongue over the naked silk and tying it expertly around Michael’s balls she led him towards the bed.
Imogen unbuttoned his fine crisp white shirt, and kissing his rigid nipples she slithered down his body and licking his skin, wriggled his pants down over his hips. His cock was near her mouth and Michael was trembling.
‘Show me, darling,’ Michael croaked huskily, pulling her backwards towards the bed. ‘Show me how it’s gonna be, married to a silk stocking whore. But, you sure as hell can’t wear me out, remember, ’cause we’ve got that early flight first thing tomorrow.’ Michael’s hand was on one of her silk stockings and Imogen dropped to her knees between his legs, kissing his balls with dancing feather-like motions of her lips and her tongue before she began winding the Cervin stocking tighter and tighter. Michael was laughing, however, his face had become serious and intent. ‘Oh, I see what you mean.’
A Seduction in Silk (Xcite Romance) Page 7