Maison Plaisir

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Maison Plaisir Page 3

by Lizzie Lynn Lee


  She looked alarmed. “What are you doing?”

  “Kissing you.” Armand unzipped her skirt and yanked it off.

  “But not there…”

  He blinked. “Have you forgotten? Tonight, you’re mine, and if I want to kiss every inch of your body, that’s my call.”

  Her breath stalled in her throat when Armand slid her cream-coloured panties that matched her bra down to her ankles.

  “Armand. I…”

  “Shh.” He kissed her navel and stroked her dark curls. His cock stiffened to the point of pain after he caught a drift of her feminine scent. Armand hissed, stifling the urge to ravish her in an instant. No. He wanted to make tonight last. Make her his. Possibly forever.

  Her clutch on his hair tightened as he felt her sex, rubbing her moist pussy lips. Her breath laboured. Her eyes widened in disbelief when he stole a glance at her. “Open a bit,” he ordered.

  She shook her head.

  Armand forced her legs apart so he could get better access to her pussy. She resisted at first, denying his demand. But when he flicked his tongue and slurped on her dewy cunt, Belle surrendered with a shout. Armand plunged his tongue inside her, plundering what was meant to be his. She writhed, begging him to stop—yet, a second later, she was pleading for more. Apparently, she didn’t know what she wanted. Armand deepened his tongue, tasting her intimately, marking her as his. Salty-flavoured cream filled his palate. He loved it and devoured her for more. Her cries sharpened and ended with a scream. She climaxed hard. Armand clawed her hips and lapped on her juice.

  She’d have collapsed if he hadn’t held her. Belle swayed and Armand helped her sit by the edge of the tub. He turned the water off. The bathtub was almost full. She watched him like an obedient child as he took off her shoes and stockings. “How was it? Do you like my kiss?” he asked her, teasing.

  Belle was flustered. “I…yes.”

  “Good. I love kissing your pussy. You sound very sexy when you come.”

  “I do?” Her voice was small. Unsure.

  “If you ask me, I really want to fuck you now. But it can wait. You don’t seem to do this very often.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I…I don’t date.”

  “Why is that?”

  Belle shook her head. “It’s complicated.”

  He decided not to pressure her. A shy girl like her wouldn’t open easily. He’d bide his time until she felt comfortable with him. Gaining her trust would take time. Armand rose and motioned for her to get into the tub.

  She obeyed.

  “Is the water too hot for you?”

  “No. It’s perfect.”

  “Mmm.” Armand grabbed a loofah and washed her. He took his time getting intimately acquainted with every part of her body. She sighed and moaned each time he played with her erogenous zones. By the time he finished bathing her, Armand knew exactly how she liked to be touched and pleasured. He put the loofah on the bathroom floor and decided to join her in the tub.

  He wanted her to get acquainted with his body as well.

  The man must’ve been a wizard of some sort. Belle was awed. His touches burnt her. His kiss seared her alive. She wasn’t usually this frisky about man-woman intimacy if she’d ever been interested since Trent’s episode, but damn, she found herself giddily anticipating what he’d do next.

  Belle unconsciously cupped her breasts and immersed her body deeper until the bubbly soap levelled under her chin. Each part of her body he’d fondled felt deliciously tingly, as if he’d left his marks upon her skin, branding her with pure, tempestuous desire.

  Armand calmly put his watch on the vanity before he proceeded to undress. His black jacket came off first. Then his black shirt. Belt. Shoes. Pants. Socks. When he slid his briefs down to his ankles, Belle temporarily forgot how to breathe.

  He was…huge.

  She was green in the naughty department, but she could appreciate a magnificent cock when she saw one. Armand’s was…very male. Long, thick and ruddy. The kind of cock whose sole purpose was to bring a woman to heaven and back in the throes of ecstasy.

  A hot, dizzying spell slammed down her cranial, inciting all kinds of feelings within her. Uncertainty. Excitement. Panic. Curiosity. Lust. Definitely lust. Her pussy spasmed at the notion of having him fill her with that cock. Belle tore her gaze from the tantalising sight. New heat burned her cheeks and every vein in her body throbbed in liquid fire. She wanted him—this handsome stranger who’d promised to show her a few tricks of forbidden delights.

  Armand joined her in the tub and leant on the opposite side. Water spilt to the floor because of his bulk, but he didn’t seem to care. Belle didn’t realise she was shivering until he motioned for her to come closer. Her body reacted before her mind did. She leant towards him and paused. Unsure.

  Where am I supposed to sit? There’s no room…

  He seemed to read her mind. “In my lap. Ever play cowgirl before?”

  The neurons in her brain short-circuited. In his lap. That meant she must straddle him. And her pussy…

  Armand pulled her in when she did too much thinking. Belle collapsed onto him awkwardly. Her knees scraped each side of his hips. Legs rested on the outer side of his thighs. And her sex settled on his groin. Her heart lurched to her throat when she felt his hard erection straining against her pussy lips.

  God. She could feel him. Hot. Even though he was underwater. Pulsing with virility.

  Her pussy buzzed with enthusiasm. It felt heavy and unfulfilled. Longing.

  Armand planted one hand on one side of her hips and the other at the small of her back, drawing her closer until her breasts grazed his naked chest.

  She could feel his heart pounding beneath his ribcages. Like hers, which was also pounding the same beat. Hard. Fast. And as erratic as the lust raging between them.

  He leant forward and brushed his lips on the side of her jaw. “Kiss me,” he whispered in his throaty voice.

  His whisper sounded like a phantom caress. A jolt of electric tingle coursed down her spine. Belle found his lips and kissed him. Slowly. Soft, comforting warmth blanketed her lips. She also tasted her own femininity on him. Salty as tears. Yet, strangely addictive.

  Armand opened his mouth and slid his tongue between her lips. She sighed. His tongue slipped in, plunging into the cavern of her mouth. He kissed her like he had before. Passionate. Demanding.

  Her heartbeat accelerated. Caught in the heat of his kiss, Belle didn’t realise she’d responded to the call of his mating dance. She ground her sex against his groin, mashing the hard erection between them.

  He let out a pleased sound. “Good,” he breathed between the kisses. “Harder.” Armand wrapped his arms around her waist and yanked her down until his straining cock seemed moulded between her sex lips, eagerly seeking an entrance.

  “Oh!”

  Armand was about to maul her lips again. He paused and smiled. “I want you to kiss my cock…”

  A blowjob?

  “…with your pussy,” he continued.

  In the tub? “How?”

  “Like this.” Armand slid his hands on her ass, lifted her a bit and dragged the length of his shaft against her nether lips.

  Pleasure sparked like fireworks. She’d never thought that part of her body was so sensitive. She could feel him. All of him. The rough thatch of his pubic. The pulsing veined rod that seemed endless in length. The hardness of his balls. And the water surrounding them that made her movements weightless.

  “There. You’ve got it,” Armand praised her. He didn’t guide her anymore, but let her set the pace she liked.

  Belle got the rhythm. Slow pull to his scrotums. Then a long, lazy drag to the tip of his cock. Kissing his cock with her pussy. How deliciously romantic. In a perverse sort of way.

  She loved it.

  He nuzzled her chin and trailed kisses on her neck. Red, hot fire seared beneath her skin, trailing like a phantom comet. Belle closed her eyes, m
arvelling at the sinful sensations. What he did made the temperature soar a few degrees. Even the bath water felt boiling. Or maybe it was just her? She’d never felt so hot and needy like this. Armand had set her body and soul in brimstone.

  “My stars, I love how you feel.” Armand stopped her. “Take me.”

  Her breath froze in her throat. Fuck him? Now?

  “Don’t worry. It’ll feel good. Trust me.” Armand lifted her slightly and positioned himself on her opening.

  Panic ambushed her unexpectedly. She hadn’t done this since the night Trent took her virginity. And as she recalled, it wasn’t that pleasurable either. No. It hurt like hell.

  “Trust me,” Armand reassured her.

  Belle nodded even though she wasn’t quite sure. She felt Armand’s fingers on her pussy, feeling her entrance. The tip of his blunt cock nudged her opening.

  “Relax,” he told her. “I know you’re wet and ready.”

  She gulped hard. The bathwater made her wet, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready. She remembered an unbearable sting when Trent had shoved his cock into her.

  “Belle…” Armand yanked her hips down and impaled her cunt with his shaft.

  For a moment, she thought the world around her froze. Time had stopped. Then, when the initial shock had passed, everything started palpitating in slow motions. His huge cockhead speared her open. Stretched her out. Plunged into her depths. Slowly but sure. Despite the protest of her rings of muscles from the salacious intrusion.

  Part of her waited for the pain. It never came. The moment his hard shaft ground against the tight walls of her vagina, a pure heat, silky as a velvet glove, scalded her every nerve tip with untainted pleasure.

  Belle felt shocked from her finding. She hadn’t known sex could feel this good.

  She was speechless.

  Armand threw her a grin and rammed the rest of his length until his balls smashed against her perineum.

  “Oh.” Belle braced on his shoulders. His cock inside her shuddered. Her pussy clenched desperately. So big. So full. So…fucking good.

  “We’ll start slow,” Armand told her. “I want to see you come. Then I want a hard fuck when I take you in the bed.”

  God. He wasn’t kidding when he told her he wanted her all night. After sampling the delight he’d promised her, she didn’t mind at all. She didn’t mind if he wanted to fuck until morning, or even if he wanted her as…

  Stop it.

  Don’t harbour high hopes, or you’ll be crushed under them later.

  Belle released a long-suffering breath, chastised by her own sudden realisation.

  “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Armand studied her face.

  “No.” Her voice sounded rusty and squeaky. “Not at all.”

  “Mmm.” Armand fucked cautiously as if he was afraid he’d hurt her. When he seemed convinced she was okay, he fucked her in shallow, hummingbird rapid thrusts.

  She began to pant.

  Shimmering lust surged through her. Morsels of pleasure, big pleasure, all began exploding one after another until she felt a river of liquid heat running through her. How could this be possible? Pleasure thickened. The way he slammed his cock into her. The way his veined shaft ground against the walls of her cunt. The way his pubis brushed against her engorged clit. He’d barely fucked her a dozen thrusts when her body quaked from a violent climax.

  This time it felt fiercer than when he had fucked her with his tongue.

  “Armand…” Belle clawed his shoulders. Unsure and a bit scared from the intensity. Her stomach coiled. The air around her thinned.

  “That’s okay, ma belle. Didn’t I say you’re so sexy when you come? Come for me, Belle. Just for me. Co—”

  She cried. Her body convulsed when a sharp, unmerciful orgasm tore through her. Her pussy spasmed. Knees weakened. Ears rang. Lungs wanted to explode. Waves of rapturous pleasures washed over her. Belle collapsed on his chest as her cunt gripped him tightly when the last tide of her climax started ebbing away.

  Armand cursed. “Heaven, you’re so fucking tight,” he said in a strained voice. “I’ll come if you continue doing this.”

  A chuckle escaped her. She didn’t know why she found that funny. She’d never imagined men would think she was desirable, let alone someone would find her sexy enough to get him turned on. Belle wrapped her arms around Armand’s neck and snuggled closer, feeling muzzy. After her second orgasm in less than an hour, she was beat.

  Armand found her lips and kissed her open-mouthed, hungrily. The cock inside her felt bigger and harder. He hadn’t come yet. How much fucking does it take for him to come? Belle watched him with wonder.

  He broke the kiss. “I want that hard fuck now. Let’s get you to bed.”

  Belle didn’t remember getting out from the tub. She blinked and the next thing she knew she was sprawling in that white-sheeted bed with Armand’s perfectly toned body descending before her. He spread her legs and thrust inside her. Belle clutched the sheet. Her pussy fluttered around his hard shaft.

  Armand’s eyes blazed fire as he bent down to give her a kiss. “Mine,” he hissed. “All mine tonight…”

  His claim made her heart flutter like her pussy. If he could give her more orgasms like he just did, she didn’t mind if Armand ravaged her all night.

  No. She didn’t mind at all.

  Chapter Three

  Hervé de Silvano was pissed.

  Royally pissed at his cousin Armand. Ever since they were little they’d been competitive against each other. He didn’t know why they had always chased the same woman. Armand had won once, though. But when his fiancée, Minette Kasim, died tragically from a sudden illness, Armand had gone celibate for decades, mourning her passing. Hervé never saw him with another woman until last night.

  That pretty little Belle.

  Hervé knew he must have her when he saw her in Maison Plaisir. He’d never been obsessed about a woman, let alone a mortal human before. But Belle was different. Her intoxicating scent had lured him to her, sweet and indelibly irresistible like no other human he’d ever encountered. He was surprised to find she was being courted by Armand. And what made it more irritating, Armand had played a prank on him. The important visitors who insisted on seeing him while he was courting Belle were Armand’s friends. After fifteen minutes of worthless conversation, Hervé had a hunch the two were sent by his cousin to distract him. And he’d been right. When Hervé abandoned his guests and returned to the Eye of the Lounge, Belle had disappeared. Armand had spirited her away.

  Damn him.

  This time, Hervé didn’t want to surrender his claim like he had with Minette. When they both courted Minette, he thought he’d give his cousin a chance of happiness if he let Armand win. But not this time. There was something about Belle that drove him wild.

  Isabelle Beaumont. Big-eyed fragile beauty. A lost little lamb.

  After he’d found out Armand had gone with her, he waited secretly until Belle emerged back in the Common Hall. Armand took Belle home in a cab. It seemed as if his cousin didn’t want Belle to know who he really was. Hervé followed them in secret. Then he found out where Belle lived and did some eavesdropping about Belle’s plan when she and Armand were talking. She’d hired Armand to be her pretend lover to fool her family who had been pressuring her to get married. But Hervé knew Armand had the opposite idea. His cousin wouldn’t be hell-bent on chasing a woman if he wasn’t serious about her.

  Hervé was the same way, too.

  He hatched a plan to sabotage Armand from showing up on the day Belle was supposed to bring her lover to her family. Hervé called in a favour to his old friend Pierre to lace Armand’s drink with sleeping potion. Armand had a sweet tooth habit and always stopped at his favourite café late every afternoon for tea and cake. His devious plan had worked. As soon as Pierre called him to say his cousin was as drunk as a skunk, Hervé went to Belle’s house to play Armand’s replacement.

  She looked surprised when he showed up at her
front door. “You.”

  “Evening, love. You look simply ravishing tonight.” And he wasn’t lying. When Hervé saw her in Maison Plaisir, she had been dressed in a drab-looking blouse and skirt. Now she was swathed in a black cocktail gown, simple yet classy. Her hair was gathered on top of her head, artfully arranged, and she had also put on some makeup.

  Belle checked herself as if she didn’t believe his compliment was sincere. “What are you doing here?”

  Hervé sighed. “Armand did something stupid and can’t make it tonight. I’ll be your date for the evening.”

  Her eyes rounded. “What did he do?”

  “He got himself into a drinking game and he’s too drunk even to stand up. I’ve volunteered to be his replacement. So, here I am.” Hervé gave her the bouquet of roses. “I also brought some vintage wine from my family vineyard. I hope your parents will like it. Ready to go?”

  Her pretty mouth opened and closed in shock. “But he promised…”

  A surge of guilt rose to his throat. His jaws tightened. Well, screw Armand. He played a trick on me first. “What can I say, love? He’s out of it.”

  “I see…” Belle opened the door wider. “Please come in.”

  “Thank you.” Hervé strolled in, studying her small apartment while Belle brought the bouquet to the kitchen and put it in a vase. It appeared Belle was a simple girl. The decor of her place reflected her taste. She painted the walls in a creamy colour with white trims, and decorated her place with monochromatic furniture and draperies. Everything looked neat and clean. When Hervé looked at her shelves, he noticed all of her books were alphabetised. No dust or streaks could be spotted anywhere. Hervé was impressed. “So, Belle, want to tell me everything I should know about this dinner party?”

  “Oh.” Belle put the vase on the living room table. The sweet scent of roses permeated the air. “We’ll have dinner with my mother and sisters. My mother…she’s…” Belle paused. “She’s very critical.”

 

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