by Mel Blue
“I want to know everything about her. You pick the women for me, but you give me a file on them.”
She stopped at the bushes and placed her hands on her hips. When she’d faced him again he could see the shift. She wanted to share a part of herself with him and not just sex. “I can tell you what would be on the application. I won’t reveal any details that you could track her down with. I can’t tell you everything now because it’s almost time for the mixer. I need to be there.”
“Fine. No name. No occupation. No birth date. I’ll take what you can tell me right now to my grave.”
She crossed her arms and settled deeper into his jacket. It meant so much that she’d take his word and confess. “She’s the kind of woman who sets down roots. Has friends—had one best friend she grew up with. She was raised in these beautiful mountains in California. Had a good life. No kinks, for the most part. And then something happened like it always does to someone who has a charmed life. She left everything and…she travels now. Does things she never thought she’d do.”
That wasn’t the full story but more than she’d probably told anyone since moving to New Orleans. “What’s her kink?”
She smiled. “I guess you can say she likes to watch too. She can disappear in a crowded room.”
“Sounds like someone who likes to be in control.” He considered that and saw her in a new light.
“She…lost everything. Of course, she does.”
He rose from the bench because she planned to leave, he could see the intent on her face. He closed the distance between them and ran his hands down her arms. She started to protest, but he tugged the jacket from her shoulders. “Can’t walk out of here wearing this. Folks might think you did something with me you shouldn’t have.”
A wicked gleam lit her eyes. “They might already think that the way you marched me out of the hotel.”
“If anything they think you were escorting me off the premises for pissing you off.”
The light in her gaze dimmed. “Yeah. That is what they’d think.” She stepped backward. “Just wait here for five more minutes. I can’t risk losing my job because people think something untoward happened between us. Just now.”
The words hit him in the gut. She’s the type to set down roots. She wasn’t hiding her identity out of shame or for kink. If she got caught, she’d lose the one home she had. Life had taken her charmed life, and that’s why she’d ended up in New Orleans.
He shrugged into his jacket. “Tell Séjour I know what our play is going to be.”
She nodded and put up her hand. “Five minutes.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
CHAPTER SIX
Luke opened his hotel door a few hours later and pleasure sluiced through him. Seraphina’s hood covered her hair, the mask hid her face, but she wore a broad smile. The same jacket, same mask, but black heels. He couldn’t wait to find out what she had on and then he’d rip it off.
“Afternoon, Séjour. I was just finishing a late lunch.”
He stepped aside to let her in. She moved into his space and ran her fingers over his chest as she passed him. He hissed. She strolled over to the bed, but turned to face him. She never lost the smile. It turned wicked when he kicked the door shut.
“You made me wait.” Grasping her arms, he dragged her up against him. “I’m sure Seraphina told you I’m controlling the play today.”
She shook her head forcing the hood to fall back. He chuckled. “I’m sure she’s told you I get what I want.”
Her jaw clenched and he laughed again, because Seraphina would have a smart-ass reply to his declaration. She couldn’t talk, argue, or make so much as a peep outside of a moan.
“You are here to please me. I want to watch you again. You’re not here for me to fuck you. Not yet.”
She huffed but kept her silence. “Good,” he said. “So we have an understanding. Be still. Arms down at your sides.”
Her gaze narrowed behind the mask, but she did as she was told. He circled her, stopping at her back. He pressed his face into her hair and took in a deep breath. Vanilla. He filed that away, reaching forward to unbutton her jacket. Unhooking the last button, he ran his hands up her torso. Silk, metal bones—another corset. The material suddenly stopped and all he could feel were her breasts.
He sucked in another breath to ease the urge to turn her around and yank the corset off. It took another deep breath before he could. Slowly, he peeled the jacket off. He tugged the lavender stays loose because the front didn’t matter. The corset looked better on the floor along with her jacket anyway.
After ordering lunch, he’d been more than sure she’d be the next person to knock so he’d stripped off everything but his boxer-briefs. The damned things were tented and all he could see was the fine line of her spine. And, well, the delicious curve of her ass. The black-lace thong was just a step above being only his imagination.
He hooked his fingers on the band and pulled them down to her knees, kneeling behind her in the process. She’d have to spread her legs to help him get them off. He waited for her to shift and when she did, he smiled.
“I said don’t move.”
When she obeyed, he licked that tantalizing curve where her thigh met her ass. Her dark-olive skin flushed. She arched her back and he pulled away.
“What did I say?”
Her legs trembled, but she listened. He glanced up and could see her head tilted back, her jawline tight. His dick fucking ached. His friend had given her full power to run this hotel and she did with an iron fist, never letting anyone get close. She demanded, ordered everyone. But tonight she’d let go. For him.
That was as arousing as the view of her bare ass and long legs. He brought his tongue up and over her smooth pussy lips. With her legs closed, he could only get teased by the taste of her. She gasped, the trembling intensifying.
He yanked the thong down to her heels. He rewarded her choice to forgo stockings with a kiss on her right ass cheek. The supple flesh yielded to his touch so he sucked hard and then kissed away any pain. He did the same to the other cheek. Both of her fists balled at her sides, but she didn’t move.
Not done teasing her, he slipped his tongue between the crease. Furrowing his tongue deeper, he found the tight star and caressed it with one long lick. Again. Again. Her moan sounded pained, and she pressed closer to the heat of his mouth. He straightened.
“You moved,” he murmured. “Kick off your panties.” He grunted his approval, waited to see what she’d do. She took up the same position with her legs together.
“You stood still. Good. Very good. If you follow all my directions, I’ll give you tongue right where you want it.”
He reached between her legs, letting his finger show her exactly where he meant. “Here,” he murmured because his middle finger met a warm, dampness. “Is that where you want my tongue?”
She moaned in answer, her thighs squeezing together as though to keep his finger there. He tsked and moved his hand. “If you hadn’t moved, I’d have given it to you now, but I’m a forgiving man. I’m going to give you another chance.”
He rose behind her, making sure his dick didn’t make contact. His cock had already started to weep pre-come. The slightest touch would make him forget about play and just throw her on the bed. He grasped her hand, taking note of the darker flush to her skin.
“Follow me.” He tugged her toward the bathroom.
The tub could fit two. It looked old, but all the attachments were definitely from the 21st century. “Get in, draw the water just the way you like. Relax.”
Since he knew Seraphina wouldn’t be able to follow simple commands for long, he’d dragged one of the chairs from the dining table into the bathroom. He settled into it and threw out the notion of relaxing himself.
Seraphina took her time choosing the scented oil, the bubbles, and the temperature of the water. If not for the occasional glance toward him, he’d have thought she didn’t know he was there. Her eyes told a story, p
ulled at his gut. She’d hinted at it in the garden, but he could see her hurts. Every year he’d seen her strength and had tested it.
The embellished mask couldn’t hide her beauty. The simplicity of it lived in the way she moved. Understated, yes, but graceful. How she believed she could disappear in a crowd, he didn’t know.
For the most part, he respected Henri’s house rules. His friend had run the hotel for years. The last three, Luke had taken more than thirty minutes to choose a woman. Yes, this crossed a definite line, but anyone watching him could see that whenever Seraphina entered the same space, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
She shut the tap off when the water reached her waist. She sighed and leaned her head on the lip of the tub. Her breasts rose and fell with each steady breath, but her nipples peaked.
He shifted to the edge of the chair. “Do what you normally do when in the bath.”
Luke had teased her. The glint in her eye told him the tables had turned. Seraphina grabbed a soap from the dish, dipped her hand into the water, and then slid the bar across both breasts. With every repetition of the movement, her breathing deepened. She dropped the bar into the water. She glanced up at him before flattening her palms along her nipples, rubbing them in a circular motion. She made sure to lift her breasts and let them slide back down. Fuck. The soap grew whiter, thicker.
He balled his hands. Never had it felt like this kind of exquisite torture when watching someone. In his mind he’d planned a full out seduction. They’d use the showerhead. He’d use his mouth, fingers, and tongue. He’d leave her mindless, but watching didn’t feel right. Not while every one of his muscles tensed and felt brittle because he needed to touch her.
He rose from the chair and knelt beside the claw-foot tub. She didn’t stop, still following his command. Grabbing the bar of soap from the bottom, he said, “I’m going to do it from here.”
He should have given himself a moment to stuff away the need, to ignore the ache, and do this for her, but touching her could appease the sharp-edged desire wanting to rip through him. She rested her arms on the tub and cupped the curved lip with her hands.
“Lift your head,” he said.
He dampened the soap and brought it up to her chin. She sucked in a breath, but let it out when he traced the long line of her neck and then drew the bar across her collarbone. He dipped the soap into the water again. Maybe he could never know all the details of her past, but he could know how she liked to be caressed. He could learn every contour of her body. Her moans. He could know the difference in pitch.
He wet the soap and then marked the outer curves of her breasts, the valley, her nipples. Her moans changed, grew huskier. He let go of the soap and used his palm to work up a lather.
Remembering the night before, he plucked her nipples. Slippery from the soap they slid through his fingers. Taut. Rose-tipped. Her moans quickened. He cupped the warm water and watched it leave soapy streaks as it dribbled down her torso and into the tub.
He washed her down, leaving no traces of soap behind and started below the waterline. Luke took his time, working his way from her feet up, but not touching her sex. Not yet. He kneaded knots, smoothed them out, and washed them away. The grip she held on the lip turned her knuckles white.
Pleasure and torture toed a fine line, and they’d reached it. “Are you ready to come?” he asked.
She nodded. He reached in and lifted her up. Water drenched him, but that didn’t matter. She threw her arms around his neck and rested her face against his chest. Closing her eyes, she breathed him in. That almost undid him. From the bathroom to the bed whizzed by in a blur. All that mattered was her mouth. Her breasts. Her legs wrapped around his waist. Her being wet and warm and slick.
He gripped her thighs to spread her wide for his perusal. Pink. Her clit sat erect, swollen. They’d both reached the point where finesse wasn’t necessary, but was instead an obstacle to what they both desired. Still, he pushed her higher up, to the middle of the bed, and then he licked her sex. Her shocked moan cracked through the air.
The broken sound only encouraged him to take her deeper into the abyss of pleasure. He sucked her clit, drawing it into his mouth. Her shuddering response with a soft cry, made him press his face closer and groan. The scent of honeysuckle and sex assailed him.
It wasn’t enough. She wasn’t screaming yet. Until then she was still very much Henri’s personal assistant, keeping him out and at arm’s length. He wanted her stripped raw. So he used two fingers to spread her lips wider. From just one lick, her clit had swollen fully. Hmm. She was closer to coming than he thought. Perfect. His cock strained against his underwear painfully, but that ache could wait.
He bent down and flicked his tongue back and forth, slowly, softly until her hips arched up. He added pressure and worked her faster to give them both what they needed. The pitch to her moans changed again. She started to rock against his tongue, meeting the pace of his licks.
Greedy for the real taste of her, Luke let her ride his mouth. Her cries turned into short, choppy rasps. Relentless to hear her scream, he suckled her clit between his lips. Finally, she bucked once and then her legs trembled as she came. Her arousal thickened and the taste of her come changed. Relief at her pleasure should have soothed him, but nothing could.
His tension gave way to something starker. He didn’t need control, but to be inside her, any fucking way he could be. Luke’s mind focused on the feel of her pussy, squeezing, tugging him the way it had before. Any leftover vestiges of his plan evaporated.
She was still shuddering from the aftershocks of her orgasm. That was fine. She didn’t need to come down because she was going to come again soon enough. He nipped her shoulder, her chin, and then her mouth. He watched her gaze to see how she felt about her taste. She moaned and deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue into his mouth. She didn’t taste of Scotch tonight. Her hand dug into his hair and gripped. The longer he kissed her the more he got lost. She hooked one leg along his hip.
One thought slammed into his mind. “Fuck me,” he said.
She loosened the hold on his hair to run her hands down his chest. A hazy grin was the only warning she gave before pushing him onto his back. He’d wanted sweet and slow for her, but that shit wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Never when she was naked. He needed oblivion. And sweat. Her come.
Seraphina’s nails scraped the tops of his thighs as she pulled down his briefs. His cock sprang free, and dammit that was good enough. The band pushed his balls higher and the tightness sent a wave of pleasure up his spine. She straddled him, letting her fingers caress his chest until she placed her palms on his stomach. Her breath shuddered out, and her lids were half-mast.
His skin felt hot just from the way she looked at him. She couldn’t speak, but he didn’t have to hear what she wanted to say to know he’d get whatever he asked for next.
“Fuck me. Or you won’t get any more tongue.”
She hummed in a way that made him think the words made her hungry. His balls drew up. She wrapped her fingers around his cock, stroking and squeezing him.
He was too hard for teasing, so he grasped at her waist and held her still. “Sit on my dick. That’s a command.”
Her hair cascaded forward as she lifted and then, fucking finally, lowered onto him. His breath hissed out. She swayed her hips back and forth until she settled fully on his lap. He reached deeper than he had the day before, and his mind refused to stutter out anything useful. He was inside her. A snug fit that wrapped him in its tight warmth.
She didn’t move because this was Seraphina. He’d commanded her to sit and that’s what she’d do. A single thought filtered in and he followed the suggestion. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pressed his forearm against her back until she lay flush on top of him. He lifted his legs to get a grip for purchase. Face-to-face with her, he thrust upwards. Her mouth dropped open in a surprised gasp.
“Now I’m going to have to fuck you instead. Should have listened, stu
bborn woman.” The position tightened the band on his balls. It felt like it had cut off the blood flow to everything but his dick. He felt harder, thicker. It was no different than a cockring.
He laughed. “S, you need to get to know some ground rules.”
Luke gripped her waist and started off with a quick, soft thrust. The next one deeper and harder. He stroked her pussy with his cock until she came, twice.
“Never let me have control when you’re on top.”
A third time.
“Now you have to give me something.”
His legs ached and the bite marks on his neck stung, but he wasn’t done setting down the ground rules. She tried to rise, but he held her to him. She rocked. He took her protest as an excuse to catch his breath. He balled his hand in her hair, lifted her head so she could see his eyes.
“Say my name.”
She ground against him. His toes curled but he didn’t let go of her hair. “Say my name.”
She nipped his bottom lip. He shook his head. “Last time, my name. That’s what you have to give me.”
Why was he fighting for this? He knew who she was. Why couldn’t that be enough? The weekend would end and then—the weekend would end and that meant work, for her. A full schedule from sunup to sundown. No way to sneak off to see him. He let her go, but she didn’t move.
“Will I see you tomorrow?”
She bit her lip, but shook her head no. Luke closed his eyes. He hadn’t thought of the end between them, not since he’d known it was her. He hadn’t thought of a few stolen hours, one last time.
The need for her to say his name dug deeper and stopped being a boundary he could test. She’d never say it as Seraphina. He put his hands back on her hips and slammed her down. Her back bowed. Yes, if this was good-bye then he should have stroked softly, tenderly, but he wanted to hear his name from Seraphina’s lips. He wanted to make her come until she drenched him.
If this was good-bye, he didn’t want muted candlelight and a light meal. He wanted ripped clothes and scorching hot. Time would let doubts back in. She’d put back every one of the bricks in her wall that she’d taken down to let him in.