The Domville 4 (The Domville #4)

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The Domville 4 (The Domville #4) Page 1

by C. J. Fallowfield




  The Domville 4

  C.J. Fallowfield

  Kindle Edition

  ASIN: B0129IKBC2

  Version: E

  Copyright © 2015 C. J. Fallowfield

  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

  Any unauthorised reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations and places or events, are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  I am a British author and write in British English

  Image Copyright © 2015

  Editing by Karen J

  Proofreading by Fallowettes

  Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design

  Book content pictures purchased from Dollar Photo Club and iStock

  Foreword

  Written as standalone quick erotic reads, The Domville novellas are told in alternating points of view of the hotel guests and, or, staff.

  My website holds the most comprehensive information about me, as well as my current and up and coming releases.

  Dedication

  The Domville 4 is dedicated to Laura Shelnutt. We only met online at one of my takeover events on Facebook a few months ago, but she’s an amazing lady. Her enthusiasm for every single book she’s read by me is infectious and reminds me why I write. I want readers to fall in love with my characters, to feel their pain, laugh with and at them, fan themselves during the steamy scenes and cry when I’m evil and make them hurt.

  She promotes me at every opportunity, saying the nicest things about both my books, as well as me as an author, and her excitement when a new book comes out makes me smile so much. It’s readers like you, Laura, that make what I do so rewarding. Of course the idea of living off my writing is appealing, but having readers reach out to tell you how much they loved your books touches me, and will stay with me far longer than any monetary reward could. I only hope that one day, if either of us wins the lottery, or I hit the big time, that we can book that flight ticket and meet in person. Along with the rest of the wonderful girls in the Fallowettes team who support me so well.

  With much love and virtual hugs!

  CJ x

  Chapters

  Foreword

  Dedication

  The History of The Domville

  Charles Ponsonby

  The Singapore Domville

  The Hong Kong Domvville

  Alana Mookjai

  Truths Revealed

  The Hardest Cut

  Next Release

  Newsletter

  Other Titles by C.J. Fallowfield

  The History of The Domville

  Mr. Domville

  The Domville chain of six star hotels is my pride and joy. It took me years of hard grafting to build up to the opening of the flagship hotel in New York, but it set the benchmark for all other hotels. I now had one in every major city in the world. All hotels aspire to offer the level of comfort, service and extra finishing touches that have become standard in my chain.

  Luxury is a word that has become synonymous with The Domville and I intend for it to stay that way. Especially in my Signature suites, the crème de la crème of hotel penthouses, affordable only to the rich and famous. They were protected by bullet proof glass and the interiors adorned with suede and calf leather walls, eighteen carat gold trim, priceless works of art and artefacts. We also only used luxurious 1200 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, embroidered with 22-carat gold, at $2,400 a sheet. What really set us apart though, were state of the art heat signature cameras, to enable staff to observe and come and go undetected, to clean up and replenish supplies. If only I had normal cameras to capture what really happened in my hotel suites, then I truly would be the richest man in the world.

  My staff are only appointed after a long and vigorous assessment, our customer service has to be second to none and when it comes to our Signature suite guests, nothing is too much trouble. Nothing is impossible.

  As for my guests, well they come from all walks of life, but the one overriding common denominator is money. My guests are people of means. They pay top dollar because they expect the best and that’s what we offer, no exceptions. While my clientele may be financially secure, it goes without saying that their private lives can be somewhat risqué. There’s a well-known saying that most definitely applies to the guests of The Domville, no matter which country they may be staying in.

  No one knows what goes on behind closed doors.

  Charles Ponsonby

  I rapped my Tibaldi Crew 60th white gold fountain pen impatiently on the blotting paper pad in front of me. Only forty of these pens had been made worldwide and of course I’d had to have one. As a key portfolio director for one of the largest banks in the world, appearance was everything. Saville Row bespoke tailored three piece suits, handmade leather Oxfords, pure silk ties, platinum cufflinks and a designer watch. All of these gave my clients the confidence that I knew how to play the markets. If I could afford these expensive and exclusive touches, they knew that one day, if they trusted me with their funds, so would they. Dealing with men and women of means, first impressions were key. The fact that God, and genetics, had seen fit to bless me with my title of Charles Ponsonby III, baby faced good looks and a ripped physique, only added extra gravitas to my persona.

  I’d grown up on the family estate in Berkshire and attended Eton, before studying Economics and Finance, to Master's Degree level, at the London School of Economics and Political Science. I’d been headhunted for this position before I even submitted my final thesis. A very enticing financial package, working in the Far East, a permanent penthouse suite in the six star Singapore Domville hotel, suites reserved for me in the Domville chain whenever I had to visit other cities and, of course, all travel either chauffeur driven or by private jet, had meant that taking the job had been a no brainer. Though my girlfriend at the time, Carly, hadn’t been quite as enthusiastic about the amount of time I was going to spend out of the country. At twenty-four years of age though, it had been an offer far too tempting to resist. Five years later I could honestly say I’d never regretted it for a single moment. Not only did I have all the money and the trappings to go with it, I had so much freedom out here. I’d always had a thing for Asian beauties. There was just something about their petite frames, dark hair and skin and gorgeous almond shaped eyes that made me so much harder than Western women. Given I was six foot three in stature, had the build of a professional Rugby player and was blessed with blond hair and blue eyes, I stood out, so my appeal here was certainly enhanced. Add in the fact that they were generally so much more subservient and compliant, compared to the English women with serious attitudes and forceful opinions that I was used to, I was right where I wanted to be. I checked my watch and frowned, where the hell was my junior personal assistant, Sai? She was the reason for my pen tapping, I’d called her to come in over five minutes ago. I pressed the intercom on my desktop phone.

  ‘Sai, my office immediately please,’ I barked.

  ‘Sai very busy, Mr. Ponsonby,’ she responded, a touch of annoyance in her voice.

  I raised my eyebrows. She’d worked for me for four years, after I’d realised my own assistant Zena was so busy, she needed an assistant of her own. Zena had already attended business school, where one of the modules was English and her vocabulary, grammar and accent were impecca
ble. Sadly poor Zena wasn’t exactly easy on the eye. Sai on the other hand hadn’t been taken on for her skills on her curriculum vitae. I’d found myself drawn to the tiny beauty from Thailand and she made my busy working days far more entertaining and relaxing. Having some eye candy around was great for my productivity, in more than one area. I was paying for her to attend English classes at night, she’d improved considerably since she started, but was nowhere near Zena’s standard. For this reason, she did more of the menial day to day tasks, using technology to record any dictation I had, getting me coffee, preparing refreshments and food for lunch with clients, running errands, filing and so forth. She was however extremely eager, keen to pre-empt my needs and priorities, knowing I’d more than compensate her for her efforts. So, not running into my office when I called her was unprecedented, as was calling me “Mr. Ponsonby.” She always called me “Sir,” in fact I insisted on it.

  ‘I should hope you are busy, given the amount of filing I gave you to do this morning, Sai. When I ask you to come into my office though, you drop everything and do as I ask.’

  ‘Humph,’ she snorted, no longer hiding that annoyance I thought I’d detected earlier. ‘I know who been dropping everything in the men’s bathroom with you this morning. You think I don’t see, I don’t know, but Sai know everything that Mr. Ponsonby do. She see him coming out of the men’s toilets adjusting his tie, then she see slutty Arisa come out with a big smile all over her face. Maybe you ask ugly fat arse, slutty Arisa to come and drop everything for you. Again. Like she drop everything for everyone. Slut!’

  ‘Sai,’ I barked, beyond frustrated. ‘I won’t ask again. My office, now.’ I shoved my pen to the side and steepled my fingers, scowling at the solid mahogany door at the far side of the room, waiting for it to open. I didn’t have to wait long before she slipped in and shut it behind her, then stood with her head down, clutching her digital recording device. I said nothing as I continued to observe her, knowing that imagining how I was going to handle her disobedience would just prolong the agony for her. Fuck, my cock had sprung to full mast already just looking at her standing there meekly after her little display of attitude over the phone. ‘Come here, please,’ I finally ordered. She nodded and trotted forward, stopping just in front of my large mahogany desk, inlaid with the richest red leather with gold stitching. ‘Do you have anything to say to me, Sai?’

  ‘I very sorry, Sir,’ she whispered, head still down.

  ‘I’m not sure I believe you. Apologise again, while you look at me,’ I ordered. She slowly lifted her head, her cheeks had a slight pink hue and her pretty brown eyes were beseeching me not to punish her as they locked with mine.

  ‘I very sorry, Sir. I see Arisa looking all happy and I get mad. She got huge, fat arse. Face like pig, too. I not see why everyone like her. Not as pretty or sexy as Sai. I thought you fuck me and only me at work. You lie to me?’ she asked, looking hurt.

  ‘Sai, we’re not a couple. I never promised anything. If you prefer to just continue to be an excellent junior assistant, then that’s fine, we can draw a line under our other arrangement.’ I rose up from my chair, putting my hands in my trouser pockets, my thumbs obviously pointing to my crotch. I was bluffing. No way did I want an end to a very lucrative arrangement for me. I didn’t usually dip my pen in the office ink, but Sai had been too tempting to refuse. A small gasp left her mouth as she spotted my erection. Her eyes flitted up to mine for a moment, then back down as her tongue swept over her lower lip.

  ‘Fuck me on desk and all forgiven, Sir,’ she nodded vigorously. I closed my eyes for a moment as I envisioned it, but I had a meeting coming up soon with John Wetherby, head of personnel, that I had to finish preparing for which would demand my full attention.

  ‘A fuck on the desk isn’t deserved after your insubordinate display,’ I responded, fixing her with a disapproving stare. Her face fell and her eyes started to water. ‘I do however need you to take something down for me.’

  ‘Yes, Sir,’ she sighed despondently, getting her dictation machine ready. I chuckled and undid the button and zip on my trousers.

  ‘Not dictation, my cock, Sai,’ I advised as I extracted myself and gave my shaft a long slow stroke. She whimpered as her eyes went wide watching. I sat back down in my chair and pointed into the foot well of my desk. ‘As punishment you will kneel in here and suck to completion, then remain there until I see fit to allow you to leave. Understood?’

  ‘Yes, Sir. Sai understand she wrong and she suck cock to apologise most happily,’ she replied gleefully, leaving her dictaphone on the edge of my desk as she scuttled around and got into position.

  I carefully manoeuvred my chair so anyone walking in would simply see me sitting at my desk. I smiled as nothing happened. Our “relationship” was all about the power dynamic between me, her boss and her, the subordinate, so she knew she had to wait for my permission before she touched me. She got off on being ordered around and it wasn’t exactly a chore to do. It was heady to know whatever I asked she’d do, just to please me. And she did, often. I was a highly sexual man. I needed to come a few times a day or the stress of my job would have me imploding. Sai wasn’t wrong that she was the prettiest and sexiest in the office. I’d already had to give warnings to the other males in the office to steer clear, that she was mine. I had two regular women that I fucked. Sai, up until this morning, had been my only one at work. The other was Laura, my housekeeper here in Singapore. Both were fully aware of my relationship with the other and clear on the boundaries. Life really was good. I decided to tease Sai for a while, pulling my keyboard towards me I continued typing my report. The heat of her breath on my exposed cock had it quivering and I could only imagine what that was doing to her, waiting down there with it millimetres from her lips. I’d lay odds on her creaming her knickers at the thought of finally being able to suck me.

  I grinned as I thought of “slutty Arisa” who’d surprised me earlier when I stepped out of the toilet cubicle to be confronted by her naked body, legs spread wide on the sink countertop. She’d nearly taken my eye out when she fired a ping pong ball out of her vagina. It narrowly missed my face and ricocheted off the wall behind me. She’d giggled as I’d grunted my approval. While she did have a fat arse and, as Sai quite rightly said, the face of a pig, I’d heard of her reputation among the other guys in our building for vaginal muscle control. A red blooded male like me only had so much control himself, when it was virtually winking at him. Their reports hadn’t been wrong. I’d come far faster than usual as she’d gripped me in an almost painful hold. I was sure she had some kind of discount coupon that someone stamped for every guy in the firm she fucked and I wondered what her ultimate prize was. I always carried condoms on me, never knowing when the urge to call Sai in for some dicktation might be required, but great as Arisa was, I didn’t have any plans on going there with her again. I was one of those old fashioned guys who loved to fuck, but liked my women to have had less partners than me. Weirdly I also craved more of a connection. It was almost like I wanted a relationship out here, but just hadn’t found the woman to fully commit to. Until I did, my mini harem of two would have to do.

  ‘Suck,’ I croaked, my voice suddenly hoarse with need at the mere thought of sex. I smiled as I heard a whimper of delight, seconds before Sai’s tiny hands gripped the root of my cock and her petite mouth stretched to engulf me. A lazy smile spread across my face as I groaned and shifted my hips. Tight vagina Arisa might have, but I’d never met anyone to rival Sai for giving head. How the hell she managed to fit my cock in that tiny mouth of hers was anyone’s guess. My fingers hovered over my keyboard, my brain trying to tell them to continue typing, but it was no good. I gripped the arms of my chair, my fingers curling tightly around it, a blinding light dazzling me as I emptied my heat into her mouth and she swallowed it all, lapping hungrily to clean me up between minute moans of pleasure. ‘Excellent work, Sai,’ I murmured as I came down from my high.

  ‘My cock,’ she asserte
d as she kissed the tip.

  ‘No one else at work sucks it but you, you’re amazing,’ I complimented her sincerely, scooting back slightly on my chair to smile at her. She grinned proudly and when I flicked my head down to where I lay, still partially erect, against my suit trousers, she deftly tucked me in and did up my zip and buttons. When done, she folded her hands on her lap, bowing her head, waiting for further instructions. Much as I’d have loved to keep her under there for a few hours, I did actually have some work for her to do, but she deserved a small reward for doing as she was told, finally. ‘You may stand up, face the desk and bend over it.’

  ‘Yes, Sir,’ she beamed, quickly scrambling up and doing as she was told. I lifted up the back of her skirt, pleased to see that she still headed my instructions to never wear underwear to work. I never knew when the mood might strike me between deals, so speed was always of the essence and the fewer barriers to me sinking into her, the better.

  ‘Spread your legs.’

  ‘Sir make me come?’ she asked, excitedly.

  ‘No. Sai has been very naughty today, talking back to me and refusing my instructions. I don’t believe you deserve my cock inside you. Besides, I have a lot of work to do.’

  ‘Sai stay with you late, Sir. Sai do whatever she told if you promise to fuck her. You fuck her so well with big English cock.’

  ‘Just you remember that when all the other men in the office are trying to tempt you. You fuck me and me alone. Clear?’

 

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