“Yes. They were considered visually stimulating.”
He looked at one of the prints on the wall, assessing. “Doesn’t do much for me.” His gaze returned to hers. “What about you?”
Zandra gave a husky laugh. “With all due respect to the artists, it takes a bit more than a kinky drawing to turn me on.”
Something hot and wicked flared in Remy’s eyes, and his voice dipped indecently low as he asked, “What turns you on?”
You, Zandra thought without hesitation. The way you look, the way you smell, the way you say my name. The way you fuck.
She swallowed, watching his hooded gaze follow the path of her tongue as she licked her parched lips.
He’d shifted subtly closer. His nearness, his sheer physicality, always made her acutely aware of her own body. The friction of lace against her tight nipples. The dampness of her panties between her thighs, rubbing against her clit.
“It’s kind of dark in here,” Remy murmured.
“To protect the art from harmful light,” she explained, feeling and sounding breathless. “The room is also temperature-controlled.”
“You’re very good at this,” Remy remarked, and Zandra suspected he was talking about her role-playing. She could definitely say the same of him.
“Good at what?” she asked.
“Your job. You really know your stuff.”
“Thanks. I’m still learning.”
Mischief glimmered in his eyes. “Do you have to be an expert on sex to work at a sex museum?”
“Museum of sex,” she corrected with a chuckle. “And, no, you don’t have to be a sex expert to work here.”
“But it probably doesn’t hurt.”
Zandra smiled demurely. “When does it ever hurt to be an expert on anything?”
One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Well played.”
Grinning, Zandra glanced toward the entrance to the hall. She could see people milling around, but so far no one had ventured into the exhibit.
Deciding she and Remy had better leave before she was mistaken for a real tour guide again, she took Remy’s hand and ushered him from the hall.
“I need to use the ladies’ room,” she told him as they headed up to the second floor of the building, which was far less populated than the first level.
Remembering what had happened the last time they were at a museum together, Zandra gave him a warning look. “Don’t follow me.”
He chuckled, snapping his fingers. “Damn. I was just about to do that, too.”
“I know you were.” She shook her head at him. “Wait for me by the Kama Sutra exhibit.”
He wiggled his brows suggestively. “Is that code for—”
Zandra laughed, pointing him in the direction she wanted him to go.
Inside the clean restroom, she found the bag she’d secretly stowed earlier and quickly changed into the costume she’d bought at an adult store in Chicago.
When she emerged wearing a belted trench coat and red stiletto boots, Remy ran a slow, speculative gaze over her. Just as slowly, he smiled.
“What’re you wearing under there?”
Zandra smiled mysteriously. “You’ll see soon enough. Follow me.”
She took his hand and guided him to a rear stairwell that led up to the third level, which the museum’s owner had agreed to close to the public for the night.
Zandra’s spiky heels clicked seductively against the floor as she escorted Remy down a shadowy corridor to a glass-fronted chamber, where an antique Victorian bed was on display. It was decadently draped in red silk and featured ornate medallions on the head and footboard.
“What’s this room?” Remy murmured as they entered the chamber.
“This,” Zandra proudly explained, “is the museum’s showpiece exhibit. This bed belonged to one of the last great courtesans of Victorian London.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Her name was Millicent, but everyone called her Millie. She was rumored to be the illegitimate daughter of King Edward the Seventh, but he never acknowledged her birth. She grew up to become a fashion trendsetter and one of the most beautiful women in England. Men couldn’t resist her and, well, she couldn’t resist them.”
Remy grinned wickedly. “Sounds like my kind of woman.”
Zandra smiled, sauntering over to the bed. “Some of Millie’s benefactors included political leaders, intellectuals, aristocrats, even members of the British royal family.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Zandra seductively trailed her fingertips over the silk spread. “She embraced her sexuality and enjoyed many pleasurable liaisons in this very bed.”
Remy cast an appreciative glance over the antique showpiece. “Many, huh?”
Zandra nodded, lips twitching with humor. “But she was known to be something of a control freak in bed.”
“Really?” Remy looked both amused and fascinated. “How so?”
“Well—” Zandra sighed dramatically “—Millie’s biggest lament in life was that she would never become queen. She was a courtesan who wanted more than anything to ascend to the throne someday. But it wasn’t possible, especially since her father refused to even acknowledge her existence. It saddened and angered her. So whenever she was in bed with her lovers, she made them call her ‘my queen’ or ‘Your Highness.’ And if they didn’t, she punished them in ways you can’t imagine.”
Remy’s eyes gleamed with lascivious interest. “What kind of ways?”
Zandra smiled enigmatically. “Let’s just say it kept them coming back for more.”
“Damn. That good, huh?” Remy grinned, shaking his head at Zandra. “Are you making this all up?”
“Of course not. Why would you think that?”
“Beautiful woman with lousy father. Fashion trendsetter. Unconventional occupation. Lusted after by hordes of men.” His mouth twitched. “Sounds like someone we both know.”
Zandra gave him a blank look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh.” He chuckled, pointing to the bed. “Are those the original sheets?”
“No.” The museum’s owner had replaced the linens for Zandra’s purposes. “Anyway, what made Millie so desirable to men was that she was different from the well-bred English girls who came to London for the Season. Millie wasn’t at all repressed. She was exciting, adventurous. Naughty.”
“Mmm,” Remy murmured. “I’m liking her more and more.”
Zandra grinned. “Oh, but I don’t think you could have handled a woman like her.”
He arched a brow. “And why not?”
“Because you’re too domineering, Remy. Too much of a control freak. You could never be...submissive in bed.”
“Submissive?” he repeated.
Zandra laughed. “It even sounds foreign coming out of your mouth.”
“That’s not true. I can be—” he paused over the word “—submissive.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really. I can be any way you want me.”
“Any way, huh?”
“Any way. Anytime.”
Their gazes locked in seductive challenge.
A slow smile curved Zandra’s lips. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Yeah?” His voice turned smoky. “Why’s that?”
Zandra slowly unbelted and removed her trench coat, letting it fall to the floor.
Remy’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped at the sight of her body sheathed in a red satin dress that was a modern twist on Victorian-era gowns. His hungry gaze traveled over the lush mounds of her breasts spilling over the vintage corset, down to the translucent skirt that slitted up to her bare thighs.
“Dammmnnn,” he breathed, licking his lips. “So that’s what you were hiding under that coat.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Zandra smiled, thoroughly enjoying his reaction. “You like?”
“Oh, I like very much,” he drawled huskily, sauntering over to her. The naked heat in his gaze made her nipples tight
en as her clit pulsed and throbbed.
As he reached out to touch her, she stepped back and held up a hand. “No.”
He frowned. “What?”
“This will be the next phase of our role-playing,” she told him. “But before I explain our new identities, I feel obligated to tell you that this chamber has a one-way mirror, which represents Millie’s voyeuristic tendencies. She liked to be watched during her liaisons. Anyway, even though this floor is closed for the night, there’s always the possibility of someone sneaking up here to...indulge their voyeurism.” Her voice turned silky. “Do you have a problem with being watched, Remington?”
He paused, glancing across the room to the wall she’d indicated. “One-way mirror, huh?”
“Yes.”
After another moment, his gaze returned to hers and narrowed. “Do you have a problem with being watched?”
“No.” She gave him a sultry smile. “I’m going to be Millie. She got off on being watched. But if you don’t, we can end the game right here.”
Remy looked her over, taking in her eye-popping cleavage and deeply slitted skirt. He shook his head slowly. “If you don’t have a problem with it, neither do I.”
Zandra smiled with satisfaction. “Good boy.”
Humor lit his eyes. “So if you’re the courtesan queen,” he drawled, “who am I?”
Her smile widened. “You’re a brave, dashing captain in the British Army.”
“Army?” Remy made a face. “How about the Royal Navy?”
She sputtered indignantly. “Look at you. Defying orders already.”
He chuckled. “Sorry. But you know I’m a navy man.”
“Hey, I didn’t even have to put you in the military. Besides, this is supposed to be my fantasy. You can’t just— Oh, never mind,” Zandra relented in exasperation. “You can be in the bloody Royal Navy.”
“Thank you,” he said with exaggerated courtesy.
“It doesn’t matter anyway.” Zandra licked her lips seductively. “The only thing you are tonight is my slave.”
His dark eyes gleamed. “Is that so?”
“Umm-hmm,” she purred, stroking his chest. “You said you can be submissive. So let’s put you to the test.”
“Bring it on.”
“All right.” She pointed. “Take off your clothes.”
He grinned wickedly. “With pleasure.”
She watched as he made quick work of stripping—tugging off his shirt, toeing off his boots and socks, then unzipping his jeans and shoving them down his long, powerful legs.
Holding her gaze, he slowly pushed his dark briefs down over his hips. When his huge cock bounced free—long, thick and gloriously hard—Zandra’s mouth watered, and her belly quivered.
His eyes glinted at her. “What now, my queen?”
She swallowed with difficulty. “Lay down on the bed.”
As he moved to do her bidding, she knelt and reached under the bed. She pulled out a small red bag containing some of the toys they’d bought at the adult store. Removing a pair of leather handcuffs, she stood and provocatively crawled onto the bed as Remy stared at her through hooded eyes.
“You know what Millie’s favorite thing about this bed was?” she purred.
He shook his head.
“Being able to tie up her lovers.” Zandra straddled Remy’s lap, feeling his cock twitch and throb against her mound through her sheer skirt. Ignoring her own body’s reaction to the delicious contact, she fastened the leather cuffs onto his wrists. His lips curved in lazy amusement as he watched her link the chain through the heavy iron bedposts.
As powerful as he was, she knew he could escape at any time without even exerting himself. So she figured she’d better give him some incentive not to.
“Don’t try to pull yourself free,” she warned, “or you’ll damage the bed. It’s an antique, worth a fortune. I don’t want anything to happen to it. Do you understand?”
His eyes danced with mischief. “Yes, ma’am.”
She arched a brow.
“Yes, my queen,” he dutifully amended.
“That’s better.” She slid off his lap and ran an appreciative eye over him, enjoying the sight of him bound to the headboard. Brutally male and hers for the taking. “Mmm. I ought to tie you up more often.”
He leered. “Or maybe I could tie you up next time?”
Zandra shot him a stern look. “Are you being impertinent?”
“No, Your Highness.”
“Better not be.”
Sliding off the bed, she retrieved the goody bag from the floor and set it down on the bedside table. She removed a flesh-toned dildo and stroked it, glad that she’d bypassed the brightly colored dildos at the store and selected one that looked realistic enough to suit her purposes.
She turned and slithered back onto the bed, then lay back on her elbows with her booted feet planted on the mattress. As Remy watched, she lifted the sheer skirt out of the way and slowly spread her legs, baring the smooth-shaven mound of her pussy to his dark, smoldering gaze.
He shuddered and groaned, his cock jumping against his chiseled stomach.
Enjoying his reaction, she ran the dildo up and down her labia. Her nerve endings sizzled with arousal, and moisture leaked from her sex. She circled her opening with the curved tip of the toy, then slowly slid it inside.
Her soft gasp joined Remy’s agonized groan.
She stared at his strained face, the muscles pulled taut over his clenched jaw as he watched her push the dildo deeper inside her wet cunt.
With his wrists bound to the headboard, he couldn’t reach down to stroke his raging erection to relieve some of the pressure. He could only watch and burn with frustration as Zandra began fucking herself with the rubber cock, moaning with pleasure.
“Damn you,” he growled at her, his chest heaving as his breathing accelerated. “You’re trying to kill me.”
“Not at all. You’d be no good to me dead.” She sat up, ripped away the skirt, spread her knees on the bed and began riding the dildo in earnest.
She thought Remy would go crazy.
“Zandra,” he groaned, his hips surging off the bed. “Fuck. Fuck.”
“Don’t call me that,” she panted sharply. “I’m your queen, remember?”
“Yes...Your Highness.”
“What’s wrong?” she taunted wickedly. “Don’t like watching me ride another cock? Hmm? It’s nowhere near as big as yours, but—” she paused to moan as she shoved the dildo even deeper “—it feels so good.”
Remy swore harshly, his eyes slamming shut.
“Open your eyes, slave,” she commanded. “Watch what I’m doing.”
When he did, the raw hunger in his gaze nearly undid her.
She rode the dildo faster, her breasts bouncing above the tight corset as her breathing escalated to match Remy’s.
She couldn’t take her eyes off his dick. It was impossibly hard, shooting straight into the air as if it were made of steel and not flesh and blood. A thick vein pulsed and throbbed as pearly precum erupted from the narrow slit and streamed down the sides like a bubbling volcano.
Her mouth watered, and her sex ached to be filled with him. It was all she could do not to yank out the dildo and impale herself on that monster erection of his.
She rocked her hips up and down, her pussy sucking hard on the fake phallus as fluid ran down her slit and between her buttocks.
She was on the verge of coming when Remy tugged at the leather restraints, his thick biceps bulging.
“Ah, ah, ah,” she scolded breathlessly. “What did I tell you about trying to get free? You’re my prisoner. I’ll release you when I’m ready to release you.”
His eyes flashed with savage displeasure, but he stopped moving.
“Good slave.” She gave him a sultry smile. “Do you want this pussy?”
His nostrils flared. “You know I do.”
“How bad do you want it?”
“Bad,” he growled. “So fucking ba
d.”
She smiled with satisfaction. “And you shall have it. Any way you want it.”
Anticipation filled his eyes as she slowly eased the dildo out of her body. It was slick and coated with her creamy juices.
Holding Remy’s gaze, she slid the rubber cock into her mouth and closed her eyes on a sultry moan of pleasure.
He made a strangled sound—half tortured groan, half violent expletive.
She laughed, deliberately licking the toy clean before reaching over to set it down on the table.
She turned back to Remy and pointed. “Slide down on the bed.”
He obeyed at once, moving down so that his muscular arms were stretched over his head and he was propped slightly on the pillows.
As he watched, she climbed over him and straddled his face backward. “Eat my pussy.”
The throaty command had barely been issued before he pressed his hot mouth to her drenched cunt. Her back arched, and she had to bite down hard on her lip to stop herself from crying out with ecstasy.
Her thighs shook as he nibbled at her clit, rubbing it with his lips and tongue. She shuddered deeply, reaching down to squeeze her swollen breasts through the corset as he licked and stroked the plump folds of her slit, his hot breath gusting over her slick flesh.
She tilted her ass and hips back against his face, pushing at his hungry mouth as he ate her pussy with slow, deep licks that went from her clit to her asshole. With every stroke of his tongue, her body reeled with pleasure and raw sensation. Though she tried not to moan, it felt so damn good she couldn’t help herself, couldn’t stop the tears that swam into her eyes. The man’s oral prowess was a lethal weapon.
Seconds later she was climaxing, spasm after spasm slamming through her body and leaving her gasping. She felt the hot rush of her cum flowing out of her, shivered uncontrollably as Remy lapped it up with his tongue.
She closed her eyes and dropped her head, fighting to regain her composure before she could resume the game.
Gradually she collected herself and opened her heavy-lidded eyes.
“Very good, slave,” she managed to say calmly. “I’ll have to keep you around.”
“Thank you, my queen.” Remy’s voice was so husky she heard the barely leashed control. And she knew why.
His engorged dick, glazed with precum, demanded her immediate attention.
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