The Art of Retaliation

by Kingsley, Arabella

  Maxine looked at Christophe in frustration.

  Christophe leaned over a chair drinking his beer.

  “How did you get here, Mara?” he asked.

  “I flew why?”

  “I think you should go back through the Channel tunnel. Yhey are bound to look for you at the airport. And I think you should go tomorrow. The sooner the better.”

  Mara nodded preoccupied with how she would get Ryan’s brother to come over to France.

  “Can I go to bed now. I take it that I am sleeping here.”

  She slipped the jacket off and handed it to Christophe.

  “Thank you for everything.” she whispered and lightly kissed his cheek.

  Christophe stood back smiling and rolled his black eyes at Maxine.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mara sat up in bed, the luxurious creamy silk sheet crushed between her full breasts. The night was so warm she had decided to sleep naked. She cast a cursory glance out of the French windows to the source of the noise that had disturbed her. The wind was picking up rustling the leaves of the maple tree that tapped intermittently against the door’s glass panes. The room was bathed in strong moonlight making eerie shadows of the tree branches that stretched out like gnarled hands trying to caress her naked breasts. She lay back down again, satisfied that an intruder wasn’t present and covered herself in the sheet to protect her from the gentle breeze sweeping through an open window and fell into a light sleep.

  The intruder she had suspected stood at the side of her bed, a penetrative gaze emanating from his eyes as he looked down at her making sure she was secure in slumber. Satisfied he sat down on the bed sliding his eyes over her body. She was exquisitely beautiful, strands of her blonde hair stretched over the pillow crowning her face shone a pale silver in the moonlight. Her eyes were wet with tears. He touched them carefully brushing them away with the tips of his fingers as he studied her outline moving seductively in sleep beneath the sheet.

  Her breathing became fast, excessive, her breasts rising and falling with each agitated breath as though she was running to escape some evil. He cupped her face commanding her in a stern whisper to calm and sleep soundly. She was safe he would protect her. A small cry protruded her moist ruby lips. He stroked his thumb over her lips and then brushed them with a gentle kiss to silence the sound. The intruder sat guarding her body stroking the hair from her forehead in a soothing motion delivering words of comfort until she relaxed and the cries faded in the recesses of dreams.

  Convinced the small terror had passed the finger he kept to her lips trailed over her chin following a winding path over her throat caressing the bruising that painfully stained her skin. Then down to the cleft between her breasts protected from his eyes by the sheet. He pulled the sheet down slowly but abruptly stopped when he heard her moan and saw her eyes open.

  Mara stared at the intruder. His face was masked. Her body stiffened and grew rigid with fear. Mara’s hand reached out and grasped hold of the sheet to pull it back in place. The man’s response was swift. He bent over her and descended on her mouth with the force of a ravenous bird of prey. Mara looked up into Stephane’s eyes startled, resisting the pressure of his mouth, fighting him judiciously with her fists that he now held against the pillow. He persisted and succeeded in penetrating her mouth and almost immediately found herself aroused by the way his strength overpowered her will. She wanted him with a passion and her throwing caution aside she surrendered to him.

  Mara’s body cried out with triumph arching up towards him. She drank him in a frenzy stretching a hand up to caress her hand around his face. He lifted up from her, his fingers winding around her own and brought the palm of her hand to his lips and showered it with passionate kisses trailing them the breadth of the palm to her wrist. Mara caught her breath and began to writhe underneath him, stunned that such a simple action could cause so much pleasure.

  Her breathing became shallow and heavy. It was almost as though he was teasing her with a lovers trick. It was working. What resistance, doubt and caution she had left he had slaughtered and beaten into a retreat. Every nerve ending ached for him. She wanted him badly and she was going to get him.

  When he was sure she was lost under his spell Mara felt him gather up the sheet and in one motion tear it from her body to unveil the treasures she hid from his view. He seemed to watch her for a moment taking in all the curves and swells of her body.

  Suddenly his hands glided over the darkened peaks of her breasts. He pulled and teasing her nipples, kneading her breasts before smoothing them firmly down her over smooth alabaster skin to the neatly trimmed black triangle nestled between her thighs. She looked up at him expectantly, determined to meet his eyes and gage whether or not she pleased him in the dim light. She hadn’t been undressed in front of a man since Ryan. Mara gulped feeling vulnerable and followed his eyes over her body that took time to linger and appreciate. His scrutiny was severe and he seemed to want to inspect every inch.

  “You are very beautiful, Mara. Just as I imagined,” he confirmed in a dark whisper.

  He circled the tip of a breasts purposefully and watched it tighten and erect before bending to taste its sweetness and nip its nectar between his teeth. He held the quivering snow-white mounds massaging them back and forth whilst his lips stole another kiss. She moaned under the fierceness of his touch, dancing and coiling like a snake to the tune his hands played across her body.

  Mara’s hands clutched around his back pulling him nearer. A hand broke free from her breast and pressed down flat across her stomach, increasing the pressure as he neared her vagina. Her breathing deepened and picked up speed in anticipation of his touch. Inside she was on fire screaming for his caress to soothe the painful throb between her thighs. He appeared aware of her ache and cruelly decided to prolong it by flicking his fingers over her hips and thighs edging closer and closer to circle her lips until she cried out his name and whimpered.

  Mara unconsciously parted her legs a little and raised her body to beckon him. She was dry and barren when he first sank his fingers into her depths but a single stroke to its budded center produced a flush of hot fluid and paved the way for penetration. She felt him purposefully circle the entrance to her channel and then slowly push his digit inside, stretching it higher and higher, pusling it back and forth. She began to pant her breath, Her hips lifting and lowering with each thrust.

  “So wet, Mara. I can’t wait to be inside you. I have waited so long to make you mine.”

  The pleasure ended abruptly as he rose from the bed and undid the buttons on his grey shirt pulling it over a hunk of lean taut athletic muscle that awaited her caress. He removed his tight black jeans. He wore no underwear and his length was hard and pulsing, urging her taking.

  Mara’s hands were gathering up the sides of the sheets at either side, little moans floating on the air as he descended on to the bed with the stealth of a panther between her wet thighs. He caught her small waist under his arm and pulled her up tipping her head back, breasts high and proud to his mouth as he embedded himself inside her, claiming her from the man who betrayed him and her lover Christophe.

  Stephane’s only regret was that they were not there to see it. Mara let out a cry that dissolved into a whimper of pleasure. He felt her mold her body against him Prompting him to move strong and urgent within her. Mara’s head fell back over his arm as he sipped contentedly. She was helplessly weak, her body languid and buttery against him. Just where he wanted her.

  She could barely catch her breath. Her fingers invaded his hair to pull him from her breast and kiss him. A distant voice echoed in his mind that the union was wrong but his soul craved it and he knew she felt the same.

  He left her mouth swollen and open and firmly tilting her back over his arm once more to catch a peak between his teeth again. Simultaneously he ran his nails from the top of her spine to its base in one raced moment. The breath surged up and out from the pit of her stomach through the cavity of her lungs to vibr
ate through her mouth as she bucked against him. He increased the pace of his thrusts and repeated the action. He was so close to release.

  This time she cried out his name over and over moving her pelvis savagely. He grasped the back of her neck gathering her hair in the ball of his hand and took possession of her mouth to still her screams lest they should be heard by the rest of the occupants of the house and allowed her to climax. He gave a low animal roar that growled against her lips and exploded with her.

  After their hips ceased their rhythmic movement Mara hung limp in his arms. He directed her head to his shoulder breathing hard and stroked her hair away to suckle her neck. Mara lay her head over his shoulder relying on his comfort and protection just like he wanted her to. He was at peace for the first time in an age. The tree was still tapping at the window to be let in and somewhere an owl hooted.

  “I want to . . .”

  “Shh rest,” he whispered kissing her shoulder holding her a little while longer before he would have to do what he came for and perhaps lose her forever.

  He slipped from her body breaking their joining and disappeared into the area of the room not lit by moonlight to dress. When he finished he stood above her looking down with satisfaction at her forehead that was a little damp from the exertion as she lay back down.

  ‘Why did you make love to me?’ she asked lazily.

  ‘Because I wanted to,’ he told her coldly. ‘And for revenge,” he lied. “Now I am taking you back. Get dressed.”

  She stared at him and for a second he thought he might falter. The hurt on her face was unbearable. They had just made love and he’d made sure there was no evidence of love any where in his voice, only measured hardness. It was the only way to get through this.

  “How can you be so dam cold? We’ve just made love,” she asked in that delicious fragile voice he loved so much.

  “Keep your voice down and dress.”

  “No it’s not going to happen this time. I will help you on my terms, my way. I’ve contacted Ryan’s brother. He is going to help me get Louise back and I’ve e-mailed my office. They know what is going on. You . . .”

  “I’m not interested now get up.”

  “No I won’t.”

  He sat down on the bed beside her again. She pulled herself straight to face him, pulling the sheet further around herself. He lent forwards until she had to bend backwards to accommodate him and felt his lips touch hers again silently wishing that he would wipe everything he had said away and make love to her again.

  “I am not going to tell you again, I want you up and ready or I will drag you from this bed and dress you myself. And you should know by now that I will.”

  He sat up pleased that she was giving him the same horrified stare that she had done in the car and believed it would do the trick. But the horror crumpled into anger and she was sitting up raising a small hand to slap him. He caught her wrist tightly and in one motion pulled her from the bed as she clung to the sheet, pulling it with her.

  ‘Why all of this? Why the pretense? What do you gain,” she demanded tying the sheet around her body.

  Her voice was high pitched on the verge of cracking making him reach out instinctively and pull her into his arms. But he couldn’t afford to comfort her. For all its difficulty he had to remain cold or he would never get through it. Besides she loved someone else, let them comfort her. He held her waist and she looked up at him trapped in his hold.

  “I told you that I would make you cry out my name underneath me,” he smiled. “I broke your will just like I said I would and now sex is out of the way and our systems we can get on with the rest of our lives and you can go back to Ryan.”

  Mara struggled as he took hold of her wrists in one hand.

  “Or maybe you want to be with Christophe,” the jealousy he fought hard to keep control of erupted. “Maybe you wanted him to come to your bed tonight instead of me, so you could show your gratitude for his gallant rescue,” he sneered pulling her closer.

  Mara stopped struggling and looked up at him, hurt pinching her features, her eyes full but restrained. His heart leapt and remorse began eating him inside and for a moment his face softened. He swept the notion aside as weak and tugged her towards the wardrobe hoping Maxine had given her some clothes. Stephane stopped when he heard her laugh. It was a mockingly bitter laugh that only inflamed his anger more.

  “I don’t believe it, you are jealous. You think Christophe and I are lovers.”

  He tried to ignore her pulling out some scanty lace panties and a bra.

  “Maxine’s I presume. Now that I’ve seen you gloriously naked I think these will suit you well darling,” he handed them to her enjoying the way his observation knocked her off guard.

  He frowned at the dress Maxine had lent her, a forget me not blue gypsy summer dress that to him was not befitting Mara’s taste or sophistication.

  “You are jealous aren’t you? You think Christophe and I are together?”she repeated.

  ‘I don’t want to hear it. Dress.’

  He grabbed a hold of the sheet she had loosely tied at her breasts and swept it away from her body cracking the air like a whip. Indignant she snatched the dress from him and it took all of his time not to coil her legs around him and thrust inside her once more.

  Despite the hard lines etched on his brow as he watched her dress Stephane was having a hard time dealing with his actions. He had formed an airtight shield around himself since the death of his father he only condescended to know and love when the man had finally explained the reason for his infidelity, a cold cruel wife.

  Stephane had taken over the company determined to make it strong and prosperous so his father would be proud and forgive him for not understanding. He had appeared hard, even ruthless to get what he wanted, courting the daughters of business colleagues and the superficial society women who like his mother had been were not really interested in him but his money and title. They never got him as a husband but he ruthlessly used them to further his business.

  He had preferred his relationships with his loyal submissive secretary and the PA who had loved him for who he was. But had never been able to commit to a woman he hadn’t considered strong or his equal. It had been easy to seek pleasure, to escape in the latest affair. Women fell at his feet. This time it was different, the woman was different, an equal and he didn’t quite know how to deal with her. She was playing him like a fiddle, pulling the strings of his emotions until they beat an inharmonious tune. He hadn’t just broken her will he had broken his own and she had taken his spirit.

  The billionaire had never felt jealousy were a woman was concerned before. There had never been any need. He always got what he wanted. Far from getting Mara out of his system she had taken permanent root. He craved to possess her and make love to her until she begged him to stop. But Mara was one passion he was going to have to control, one woman he was going to have to forget for the sake of his sister.

  As soon as she had finished dressing he caught her hands and tied the rope he had carried in his trouser pocket around her wrists.

  “You’ll never get away with it this time. The police will know it is you. All I have to do is scream and Christophe and Maxine will be in here.”

  She opened her mouth wide but his hand clamped firmly over it drawing her back against his shoulder whilst he cut some masking tape neatly between his teeth and smoothed it over her mouth. Her head shook at him, her words only mumbles against the tape. He dipped his body and swung her over his shoulder and departed through the French windows as silently as he had arrived.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mara faced the hot shower letting the water revive her from sleep. Stephane had brought them a suite at an exclusive Hotel on the rue di Rivoli called The Chambord declaring that it was too late to travel back to the chateau. She had been unable to meet his eyes throughout their journey in the car when he’d untapped her mouth and removed the rope from her hands. Mara had simply retreated to her room without
fuss and slept as best as she could determined that in the morning she would organize another escape.

  Mara felt humiliated. She’d given herself body and soul to Stephane and he was acting as though he didn’t give a dam. The man was jealous of Christophe hand believed she had betrayed him. He wouldn’t listen to anything she said. She felt used to satisfy some sexual craving he considered a weakness and was determined to erase by conquering her will and bedding her.

  Lovemaking with her had been his revenge. The billionaire had lured her into a false sense of security, made her believe he cared for her until she wanted to help him. Stupidly she had been ready to sacrifice herself for his sake and then he just tossed her away. Stephane Garreau was cruel and malicious, a self serving manipulator just like Ryan. So why couldn’t she stop thinking about him and wishing there could be something more? When she came out of the bathroom he was standing by her bed, a tray of breakfast in his hand. He was always serving up breakfast and making sure she ate. Outwardly it made her feel irritated but inside a part of her warmed to him. It was just like being married.