by Mlyn Hurn
He paused to watch her reaction as he said the next word in a few seconds. “So, if I suck your tit just right, your cunt should contract, or spasm. And if I were inside you at the time—”
“Oh God!”
Andy cried out as her body reacted. Her hips jerked and she was suddenly moving them, and the whole time her pussy lips eagerly sought to pull something deep into her heat. She closed her eyes. She was coming and he had done nothing except speak to her and hold her breasts. Then she took a breath, thinking it was almost over.
Jack’s mouth lowered to take her right nipple while she felt his fingers easing inside her body. Impossible to say which happened first, or whether it even mattered, but between his sucking and the fingers probing forward, when he touched her clit with the thumb on his other hand, she convulsed again. She thought she cried out, or said something, but it didn’t matter.
For the first time, she discovered the power of an orgasm that didn’t involve her hand or batteries. She lost track of time until her arms ached and she lowered them to rest on Jack’s shoulders. Slowly, she became aware he had not yet released her nipple, although he no longer sucked. As she savored the feel of his wet warmth, his fingers started to wiggle around again. A corner of her brain told her she should stop him, but the rest of it stifled the niggling voice and reason quickly.
There was no pushing him away, but her tied hands, which had moved from behind her head to the back of his, only pulled them closer. She noticed the crisp, short hairs at the back rubbing her forearms, she jerked on the tie and it came free. Quickly, she rubbed her fingers up and down the back of Jack’s head, ruffling the velvety pelt. An almost instantaneous stiffening moved through Jack’s body. If his fingers paused, she wasn’t aware of it. After that, the only thing she really noticed was the second, and then the third, orgasm she enjoyed swamping all of her senses.
At some point, Jack pulled away from her hands and moved her body to lie on the sofa. He pulled her robe closed and then eased a blanket over her legs, tucking her feet in. She thought he mentioned a wake-up call before she fell asleep. Last night’s sleepless hours, plus the previous week’s restlessness and nervousness caught up with her and she drifted to sleep.
Chapter Five
Jack knocked on the door to Andy’s suite about ten minutes earlier than planned. Following Ethan’s suggestion, he wore a tuxedo. As he waited, he recalled their earlier conversation.
“The parties at the Dungeon can exist on many different levels. If things progress as I anticipate, once we’ve given your friends a tour, we’ll be invited to attend a private session. You and Andy are welcome to come with Margrit and I. Dress for this is usually black tie, for male Doms, and will vary for females, both Dominatrix and subs. Any idea what Andy is planning to wear?”
“None at all.”
“Margrit is planning on talking with her so she’ll be dressed appropriately.”
Waiting for the door to be opened by Henderson, he did wonder whether Andy had taken kindly to Margrit’s suggestions. His curiosity had made him want to look into the sack he’d delivered earlier. Now he wished he had given into it. Seconds later, the door opened and Henderson bowed slightly to welcome him.
“Good evening, sir. I’m afraid we’re running a little late. Would you like a drink while you wait?”
Jack shook his head as he walked past the other man. “Do you know how long she’s going to be? I should probably let our hosts know.”
“At last estimate, twenty minutes. If you will tell me the name of your host, or the stateroom number, I’d be happy to contact them.”
“All right,” he replied. “Ethan Williams and they are staying in the Queen Victoria suite.”
A second later, Jack was surprised to see Henderson smile. “I’m familiar with Mr. and Mrs. Williams. My fiancée is working as their butler for this cruise. It doesn’t happen often, but we were both reserved exclusively for this sailing.”
“You’re engaged to a guy?” Jack couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice. He’d met a few guys in the past that he never would have guessed they were gay, and if Henderson was…well then, he was surprised.
“This is the new millennium and women are in every field these days.” Richard shook his head. “We met on board several years ago. Luckily, my seniority and the fact women in the profession are still scarce but in demand, allowed her an assignment to this ship as well.”
For the first time since he’d initially seen the other man, he relaxed and grinned. Offering his hand, he congratulated him. “Good luck! Any wedding plans? I should imagine with you both stuck to a suite it limits your time together.”
“Thank you, but we don’t have any definite plans for a wedding yet. We knew this cruise would be restricted. Well, I’ll make the call and then I’ll return.”
With a decidedly perkier step, Jack walked to the staircase and up a few steps. “Do you need any help, Andy?” he called out.
Andy’s hand jerked slightly. Looking into the mirror, she was glad to see she hadn’t smeared her lipstick. Running behind always made her more nervous and ham-handed. She’d slept through the wake-up call and luckily the switchboard had alerted Rick. He’d brought a pot of hot tea to help her wake up while he went upstairs to turn on the shower.
Setting down her lipstick, she walked from the bathroom into the bedroom. Her dress lay on the bed and she gratefully found a note had been tucked into the sack from Margrit. A quick read-through explained the garments, including tips on wearing. A white satin, merry widow, adorned by golden embroidery and with attached garters, was the star piece of the ensemble. White silk stockings came three-quarters up her thighs. The actual dress was white, tulle material, which draped, swathed and clipped about her torso into a fashion dream. A rhinestone clip at her hip held the tissue-thin cloth and allowed it to appear as if it then fell in draped layer upon layer to her knees.
Picking up the dress, she saw Jack’s reflection in the mirror on the far wall. She could feel a blush rapidly staining her cheeks.
“You didn’t answer, so I came on up.”
“Hello, Jack. I was in the bathroom, adding the last of the war paint.”
“Looks like you did a good job,” Jack complimented her, smiling gently.
“Now, I just need my war pony and I’m all set,” she joked back, without thinking.
“You can ride me anytime you like, Andy.”
Wow! Andy had to take a deep breath at the erotic thoughts and emotions that flooded her body at his words. Trying to think quickly, she jested. “You might not like my riding crop.”
Jack shook his head and started walking towards her, their gazes still meeting through the reflection. “We can try out different ones until you find the right crop to tame your stallion.”
Andy closed her eyes at his words and a moment later she felt his hands sliding around her waist. She sighed when he lowered his lips to her shoulder, bare because she’d pulled her hair back into a waterfall of curls.
“You look beautiful, Andy.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, keeping her eyes shut for one more second and then looked into the mirror. “You look pretty dandy as well. This doesn’t look like a ‘for-hire’ tux.” She ran her hand down the satiny lapel.
“It’s not, but was a good investment, considering the use I’ll be getting out of it this trip.”
Andy sat on the bed and stepped into the dress. Standing, she pulled it up and then looked at Jack, silently asking him to fasten it. She was considering a suggestion that they stay here.
“All done. Shoes?” he asked.
“There on the bench.” She gestured to the cushioned seat at the foot of the bed. Leaning over, she took her keycard from the small purse she’d been using, to transfer it to the tiny, perfect little white bag Margrit had included with the dress.
“Want me to carry that for you? Lipstick?”
“Thanks,” she said as she handed him the card. “I hadn’t thought about lipstick.”
“I might grab you in the hall and kiss all that pretty color from your lips.”
Andy almost quipped back something about not letting him. Instead, she turned and skipped into the bathroom and grabbed the gold tube. At least she’d splurged on a fancy tube so it wouldn’t be a scratched plastic one she pulled from the fancy purse, which also held a micro-recorder for her thoughts on story ideas. She accepted her shoes before she led the way downstairs.
Henderson stood behind the bar as they came down. “May I say that you clean up quite nicely, Ms. Bond?”
“Thank you, Henderson.” She crossed to the small table and sat to slip on her heels.
Jack spoke from behind her where he had perched on one of the barstools. “We’ll get to meet Henderson’s fiancée tonight, sweetheart.”
“I knew it!” Andy hopped up, pointing her finger straight at Rick.
“Amalie is working in your friends’ suite on this sailing,” Rick added with a smile.
“How exciting! Will it be all right if I say something? Introduce myself?”
“If you’re alone with her, then it would be okay.”
“I promise I won’t do anything to embarrass her.” Andy crossed her heart with one finger. “Or I’ll try, at least. As you’ve already seen, I’m a bit of a hick when it comes to this level of posh.”
“Well, we better get going, Andy. We’re already almost late beyond what is socially acceptable.” Jack stood and started for the front door.
“I have no class, I’m afraid.” Andy shrugged. She picked up the small handbag and popped in the lipstick, quickly looking inside for the few things she’d put into it earlier. Satisfied, she nodded before adding with a grin, “You can blame it all on me.”
“Have a good time,” Henderson wished them as he closed the door behind them. He moved around the room, tidying up. He had no doubt Andrea Bond would be something of a surprise to his sedate Amalie. A grin started as he wondered what it might have been like if they’d been switched. He loved his perfectly impeccable Amalie, but it would be interesting to see if she got ruffled tonight when Andy spoke to her directly. Chuckling quietly, he finished up and made his way to the crew quarters to enjoy his dinner.
* * * * *
Amalie St. Jacques had been busy all day getting ready for this dinner party. She was used to her passengers’ entertaining, and she’d quite successfully managed three parties in one day on one particular sailing. The last one had been for eight people and had five full courses. But hearing Rick’s voice telling her his “Ms. Bond” had run a little late served to stress her out. She’d called the kitchen, moving everything back, and then informed the Williams.
Ethan and Margrit Williams had come as something of a surprise, as well. They were obviously used to six-star service, yet they were two of the nicest people she’d ever had on a cruise. Shortly after introductions, Ethan had told her they were part of the BDSM cruising group. She had yet to see anything out of the ordinary going on. Even if she did, Amalie had spent hours working on not showing shock, surprise or any other emotion.
Walking into the small kitchenette, she saw Margrit stood at the sink, washing a few of the dishes they’d used earlier. Amalie had already tried to convince her to leave them, but the petite woman had laughed and continued washing. Giving up, she picked up a towel and started drying.
The doorbell rang.
“Oh, dear,” Amalie murmured softly.
Margrit reached out with one wet hand to stop her. “Don’t fret, dear.” She turned her head and shouted towards the living room. “Ethan darling, could you get the door? We’re tied up in the kitchen.”
“Mrs. Williams, as your butler, it is my responsibility to do these types of things.” Amalie quickly pointed out to her boss.
“I understand, Jackie. But we’re happy, so there is nothing to worry over.” Margrit turned her attention to the last glass.
Amalie winced at Margrit’s name for her. Upon meeting the Williams and requesting they call her Jacques or St. Jacques, Margrit had merely shrugged. Two seconds later, Margrit was calling her Jackie. The nickname was said with such respect and care, Amalie just accepted it.
Amalie learned that even though this couple was in a male Dom relationship, Margrit appeared to be in charge a lot of the time. It was a subtle sort of thing, but she often saw Mr. Williams deferring to his wife’s decision or choice. Of course, Amalie knew very little to nothing about the lifestyle, but these people seemed pretty normal from what she’d seen so far.
Margrit untied the shirt belonging to her husband, which she’d used as an apron, as the sounds of Ethan greeting the guests drifted into the kitchenette.
Amalie looked at the expensively perfect little black dress. She was skillful at guessing the price of something, and Margrit’s deceptively plain dress was undoubtedly designer and in the four-digit range. Yet, the woman had given it little thought before she started mucking about in the kitchen.
Margrit spoke, “I’ll take in the ice so you can call the kitchen. Why don’t you have them deliver dinner as soon as it’s ready? We’ll cut short the leisurely pre-dinner drinks and hors d’oeuvres part so we’ll have plenty of time for the party. Thanks for your help, Jackie.”
Alone in the small room again, Amalie shook her head. The personnel managers had discussed possible problems they might encounter on this particular cruise, including ways to handle certain situations. But those had all been about the BDSM scene and refusing undesirable sexual advances. Nothing had covered excessive friendliness. And when she’d told Rick of the Williams’ relaxed manner, he’d merely smiled and shrugged. Then he’d recounted a few stories regarding his lady passenger.
For the first time ever since she’d met and fallen head over heals in love with Richard Henderson the fourth, she’d been jealous. Never before, despite the constant exposure to beautiful women, had Amalie felt the tiniest bit of insecurity. She trusted Rick implicitly, but she also had seen how some women could work a situation. Hearing Rick speaking so fondly of Ms. Bond normally would not bother her. But this time it felt different, and she had no real idea why. Making the call to the kitchen, she took a moment to make sure she looked perfect in her white blouse, black slacks and discretely pinstriped burgundy and hunter green vest.
One deep breath and she walked to the living room. Upon entering the room, it took her a few seconds to see Ethan and Margrit. She then saw the tall, very attractive man in a tuxedo standing by the sliding glass door leading onto the deck. Ms. Bond must be exploring the deck, Amalie realized. The deck was in sections unlike the long continuous one in the Balmoral suite. A moment later, Amalie felt her stomach sink as she saw the beautiful woman in white reenter the living room. Immediately, she noted the other woman’s full curves, comparing her own slight and slender form less favorably. In her mind, this wealthy, gorgeous woman had it all. Hopefully, the man she was with tonight would occupy her hours completely even though they were not sharing the suite.
A moment later she saw Ms. Bond look in her direction. Her prior expectations about the other woman took a nosedive when she saw how lovely Rick’s boss for this trip truly was. She stiffened her spine even as her heart sank.
Andy saw Amalie and was bowled over by the tall, slender woman’s delicateness of features and form. If ever she’d imagined a perfect heroine, this was its human embodiment. The way she stood reminded Andy of a graceful swan, moving and yet barely disturbing the world around her. Forgetting her promise to Rick, Andy teetered across the room as quickly as she could on her high heels.
“Hello, Amalie!” She reached the taller woman and threw her arms around her. “You are absolutely gorgeous! I bet the two of you together make the cutest couple ever. He kept you a secret until before we came this evening.” Andy stepped back a little. Immediately, she noticed that in her rush to hug Amalie, she smeared some of her makeup on her shirt. “Oh, shoot! Look Margrit, I’ve gone and mussed Amalie’s perfect shirt. I am so sorry.”
&n
bsp; She brushed her hand over the spot a little, fearful of making it worse. “Margrit, help?” She turned, hoping her new friend could help.
Amalie spoke quickly, “It’s all right, really.”
Margrit looked at the smudge. “I’m afraid if we try anything with her still wearing it, we’ll only make it worse. We could go into the bedroom—”
Amalie wiggled her hands, palms facing the other two women, back and forth while she shook her head, very decisively. “No, really, I can run downstairs and change if you wish and let the staff waiters begin dinner.”
Ethan shrugged. “I can mix drinks, with Jack’s help, so whatever works for you ladies.” He paused and glanced at Jack, raising his eyebrows to question his approval.
Jack nodded.
Ethan continued. “Will be fine for us. We can always skip a course if we need to be on time to meet your friends, Jack.”
“That is fine with me, Ethan.” Jack nodded, patting his flat stomach as he went on. “A few uneaten calories are only going to work to my advantage when it comes time to work off all these rich dinners back home.”
Margrit groaned. “We don’t mention calories until the ship disembarks at the end of the cruise. It’s a rule, isn’t it, Jackie?”
Amalie nodded.
Andy could see the confusion, or maybe it was consternation at the loss of control. From what she had seen of the young woman so far, Andy had no doubt she was even more of a stickler for rules than Rick. Clearing her throat, she reached out to pat Amalie’s upper arm.
“I can run down and help you change, if that would help. I’d have to slip off these darn shoes because I’m not used to walking, let alone running, in heels this high. I told Rick I wouldn’t embarrass you and I have. I’ve also mucked up your shirt, ruined your perfectly planned dinner plans and now I’ll probably sink the Titanic!”
Even Amalie smiled at Andy’s self-deprecation. When Amalie stated she’d stay and work if they didn’t mind, Andy felt a little better. Soon, they were seated and enjoying pre-dinner drinks.