Unbearable Passion - Book 2: French Kiss (Romantic Erotica For Women Series)
Page 4
I wonder if Bryce also feels he has the ability to buy and discard people at will.
“Then one day, she met her match! Thierry Kieffer. He’s a former Swiss banker and made a fortune in the stock market. He retired at fifty and was enjoying a lazy vacation in Nice when they met. He was rich, but not as rich as Mariella, which allowed her to keep the upper hand—for a while. He charmed her, she fell head over heels for him and when she tried her usual stunt of wanting more than one man, he left her. She cried on my shoulder for months until one day I told her, ‘If you love him, stop your bullshit games and go get him.’ I don’t think anyone had ever spoken to her that way. She was on the first plane out to Luxembourg where Thierry kept a home and the rest is history.”
I inhale every word he says. I’ve never traveled in these circles before and I’ve never met so many ultra-rich people before.
“She’s expecting us for seven-thirty. You have thirty minutes to get ready. I’ll meet you at the lobby.” He playfully pushes me past the adjacent doors and into my room before closing the doors behind him.
I take a quick shower, pull up my hair into a messy updo, reapply a more subdued color palette for my makeup and then move towards the wardrobe where I meticulously hung my clothing this morning before meeting Bryce for breakfast. I select a Monique Lhuillier strapless red cocktail dress I bought a few years ago that I’ve only worn once. I instantly feel like a princess when I zip it up. I step into a pair of nude heels my sister brought back from Italy a few weeks ago and I feel elegant. I take a step back and can’t believe it’s actually me.
When I step out of the elevator a few handsome men nod with approval and smile at me. I feel ten feet tall. Bryce is standing near the entrance of the hotel and he does a double-take when he sees me.
“I was texting you to let you know that Mariella always overdresses, but I can see by the way you look it was a waste of time. You look absolutely amazing.”
“Thanks. I wanted to make sure I looked the part.”
“You look the part in that dress. It’s stunning on you.” He’s eating me up with his eyes and stops right at my cleavage. He narrows his eyes, looks at me and asks, “Are you still wearing the bra I selected for you this morning?”
I get on my toes, as high as I possibly can, and force him to lean down to meet me.
“The bra you selected didn’t work with this dress and since the arrangement doesn’t have a clause for when I have to wear two different outfits in one day, I decided not to wear any underwear at all. I’d hate to break the terms of our arrangement.”
He doesn’t move at first. Then he slowly lifts his head, smiles and leans in again to whisper in my ear, “You’re going to pay dearly for what you’re about to put me through during the next hours when I’ll have to imagine your naked breasts underneath this dress.”
I push myself away from him so he can see my devious expression when I respond, “I aim to please, Mr. Van Der Linden.”
While we ride to the Contessa’s home, I ask Bryce in which arrondissement she lives. Paris has some exclusive neighborhoods and you can usually identify someone’s status and wealth by their designated arrondissement.
“Mariella has had an apartment that overlooks the Louvre Museum for the last thirty years. It was a birthday present from her father when she was a young woman, and since then she’s bought the two flats located on each side of hers and created this massive Parisian oasis.”
“She lives in the premier arrondissement?” I nearly shout these words because that is the most expensive neighborhood in the city and only the extremely rich can even entertain the idea of living in that part of Paris.
Bryce gives me a half smile and reiterates his words. “Mariella is one of the richest women I know. Don’t let her casual manners fool you. She inherited her father’s fortune and businesses since she’s an only child. She also inherited all of the businesses from her late husband, the Count. Although the Count’s own children were managing the companies, Mariella didn’t hesitate in replacing anyone who wasn’t performing to her standards. She’s a sharp woman and when Parisians used to complain about how the city was going to hell and left in droves, she’d buy up every available property she could get her hands on. Today, she owns an insane number of luxury apartments she rents to dignitaries and foreign consulate workers at ridiculously high prices. She could technically have never worked a day in her life, but she’s a go-getter and hates being handed anything.”
“She sounds very impressive.”
“She is. Don’t take offence if she’s a bit rough around the edges at first. She’ll most likely be testing you for the first few hours to see what you’re made of. If she likes you, then she’ll give up a kidney for you in times of need.” Bryce ends his sentence as we arrive in front of Mariella’s building. When I get out of the car, I quickly glance around to confirm Bryce’s words and there is the Louvre Museum looking at me.
“I’ve always loved these apartments and my sister and I would comb these streets for hours when we lived in Paris. When we got tired, we’d hop back on the subway and make our way home. Our neighborhood was a far cry from the premier arrondissement. My sister and I vowed to own a place here one day, but it never happened.”
“If Mariella likes you, she’d never allow you to come to the city again unless you stayed with her. Since she has impeccable taste, I’m pretty certain the two of you will get along. You’re both hustlers.” He says this with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Hustlers?”
“I don’t know the full story of your past business dealings, Amanda, but I know that if Mariella was caught in a bad place in life, she’d fight her way out of it, just like you’re doing.”
“You have no idea what these words mean to me, Bryce,” I say, holding back my tears.
The last few months have been nerve-racking, humiliating and depressing. Accepting this job was a last resort for me, but it’s turning out to be vastly different from what I expected.
“I know a fighter when I see one,” he says in a serious tone. “Shall we?” He opens his arms so I can nestle myself underneath his arm.
A gentle woman opens the door and greets us with a foreign accent. When she lets us in, I gasp as I take in Mariella’s sumptuous Paris abode. It’s majestic and so beautifully decorated. As I’m about to step towards to tall windows to take in the view of the city, a voice shouts, “Bryce, my love. Bravi, you made it. Dove è lei? Where is this beauty you talk about?” Mariella hugs Bryce so tightly I think he might break in half. When she finally lets go of him, he turns to me and presents me to the Contessa.
“Mariella, this is my friend Amanda.”
“Friend? Bryce, you take me for a fool? This woman is far too beautiful to be just a friend.”
“È un piacere conoscerti, Contessa Borini Mozzetti. It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Contessa.”
The room feels like it’s gone silent as the Contessa looks me up and down without saying a word. After an eternity, she smiles, nods her head and gestures with her hands like Italians often do. “Parla italiano molto bene! You speak Italian so well. I like you already, bella.” Bryce looks relieved that I’ve received Mariella’s seal of approval.
The evening is surreal as I rub elbows with some of the most elite and richest people in the city. Only six guests are invited to this weeknight dinner, but the night is simply perfect. Mariella’s husband, Thierry, is adorable and the deep love they share for each other is obvious to even a blind man. The food is extraordinary and I find myself drinking a little bit more champagne than usual, which contributes to making me feel extremely mellow. The scrumptious dessert table nearly sends me to heaven and I can’t believe people enjoy life like this on a Monday night.
As I try my best to resist the temptation of eating one of each of the dessert, Bryce sneaks behind me, grabs my waist and kisses my bare shoulders.
“This has been the most uncomfortable evening for me, Amanda. You look so amazing that I’ve had a h
ard-on since I saw you at the hotel and it’s not gone away since then. I really cannot wait much longer before getting inside you.”
Our eyes meet and we devour each other before I break the silence and whisper in his ear, “Since I’m not wearing any panties, you’ll be able to quickly slide inside me.”
He seems stunned by my revelation. He simply kisses my shoulder and says, “I’ll take you up on your offer.”
After dessert, while Mariella is telling a fascinating and amusing story as we’re all enjoying our espresso coffees, Bryce grabs my hand under the table and places it on his hard cock before closing his hands firmly on top of mine. It’s as if he insists on reminding me of the effect the dress has on him. After a few minutes, Bryce announces to our hosts that we need to get back to the hotel to prepare for another grueling day of negotiations. He thanks Mariella, Thierry and the other guests for a lovely evening. I thank and kiss everyone before we head towards the beautifully carved entrance door to make our way back to our hotel.
When the elevator doors closes behind us, Bryce pins me against a wall, kisses me hard and slides his hand underneath my dress. He pokes a finger inside me as he plays with my wetness.
“So you are naked underneath this dress!” He puts his finger into his mouth and licks it without ever leaving my gaze.
“What? You didn’t believe me?” I say with feigned innocence. I’m far too turned on by the moment to even attempt to be clever, as I seriously consider begging him to take me right now inside the elevator.
“I wanted to check for myself. You do know that I’m going to fuck you so hard when we get back to the hotel to punish you for these last four agonizing hours of knowing that your perfect breasts dangled freely under that red dress?”
“Frankly, I’d be very disappointed if you didn’t.” My clit throbs with anticipation as I dare Bryce to ravage me when we get back to the hotel.
* * *
When the door to Bryce’s room closes behind us, I already know he’s going to be merciless with me and force me to enjoy pleasure like never before. He stands behind me, grabs my waist and kisses me from the right shoulder to the left. The soft touch of his lips tickles my bare shoulders and sends shivers down my spine. He unzips me while still kissing my neck and every little peck feels like a gift. When my red dress pools on the ground, he cups my breasts, presses his hard cock against my back and whispers in my ear, “I want to watch as you give yourself pleasure.”
“What do you mean?” I ask nervously.
I’ve never given myself pleasure in front of a man before. I’ve always felt it was an intimate act I like to enjoy away from a lover’s hungry eyes.
“Show me how you play with yourself when I’m not around.” His words are so raw, so sensual that I find myself wanting to make him come just by playing with myself.
“You want to be my peeping Tom?” I asked.
“I want to be the peeping Tom who gets to fuck you.”
“I don’t know if I want you to see me being that vulnerable. You’re asking a lot of me, Bryce.”
“You’re not going to allow me to see you satisfy yourself?”
“I guess since I did sign that agreement as you were kissing my inner thighs, I have no other choice but to abide by the clauses of our contract.”
“That’s an excellent point you bring up, Ms. Hardy. I’d hate to have to involve my attorneys in this matter.”
“Oh, I don’t think attorneys are necessary, Mr. Van Der Linden. Why don’t I give you what you want?”
I playfully push Bryce to a large wooden table in the room and walk back provocatively towards the bed. I bend over to remove my shoes before climbing into bed when he commands, “You should know by now to leave the shoes on.”
“Right. Silly me.” I smile at his comment. He definitely has a thing for shoes.
I’m going to give him a show he’s never going to forget.
I lie on my stomach with my knees folded underneath me, allowing him to have a full view of my ass as I play with my wetness. With each stroke, I grind my butt in exaggerated circles while I peek to the side to see if he’s as turned on as I am. In good Bryce fashion, it’s nearly impossible to read him, but I know that if I’m turned on as much as I am now, so is he. When I flip on my back to massage my clit the way Bryce massaged it so well earlier this morning, I read the yearning in his intense blue eyes. I cup my breast with my other hand, squeeze my stiff nipple and grunt with pleasure.
“Bryce, I want you inside me so badly.” I implore him to come here, but he simply shakes his head in refusal as he folds his legs. “You know what?”
“What?”
“Your cock is the only one I want inside me.”
“Is that right?”
“Your cock fits perfectly inside my mouth and I love playing with your sweet-tasting pre-cum, but when you’re inside me, it’s like you fill a void.”
Masturbating in front of him while talking dirty brings me far more pleasure than I expected and I have to ease up the pressure and the speed as soon as I feel I’m about to come.
I open my eyes and Bryce is still sitting on the wooden table, but he’s completely naked and stroking his massive erection.
“Don’t stop. I’ll make you come again later,” he commands in a deep raspy voice.
“I have a better idea.” Without waiting for him to reply, I’m already on my feet dragging a chair and settling it right in front of his hard cock. I drop my knees on the chair in front of him and bend towards his cock while adjusting my breasts over the back of the chair so he can have easy access to them while I suck him. I grab his hard penis with one hand and fold my lips around him while I play with my throbbing clit.
“Take me in deep, Amanda.”
Bryce tilts his head with pleasure as I take his cock deeper into my mouth. He holds my head firmly down with one hand while squeezing my nipple with the other. Being on my knees in front of him makes it easy to get his cock to hit the back of my throat. The more excited I get, the faster I devour the length of his shaft and the more pressure I apply against my clit.
“You suck my cock so well,” he whispers, as I lick his pre-cum from the head of his penis like a sweet cherry lollipop.
To avoid coming too fast, I move the hand that was massaging my clit to the base of his balls and squeeze them tightly. He grunts under the pressure and folds his body on top of mine to slap my naked ass.
“Seeing your naked ass wiggle in the air like that is a massive turn-on,” he says, as my eyes meet his.
As if he knows I’m about to climax, he extracts his hard cock from my mouth, lifts my head and commands, “Don’t move.”
Bryce moves behind me, places his cock on top of my ass and proceeds to spank my butt cheeks.
“You never confirmed with me you could walk around Paris without underwear. That’s simply not part of our agreement. How dare you change the terms without my consent?” His tone is domineering.
With each sentence, he administers harder and harder slaps. Finally, he grabs my ass and part my cheeks with his hands and enters me with force. I part my legs a little bit more, fold my body on top of the back of the chair, and stretch out my arms on top of the table to support myself better as Bryce pounds me with great speed and even greater force.
“Keep breaking the terms of our agreement and I’ll have to find more ways of punishing you.”
He drops his muscular body on top of mine and enters me even deeper as he massages my clit with more intensity. This feels so sinfully pleasurable, it’s as if a volcano raging to burst consumes my entire body.
“Oh, my God! Don’t stop! I’m going to come!”
My legs tremble as Bryce feathers my clit with more speed. I scream aloud with sheer ecstasy as my body quivers.
“Oh, God, Bryce,” I shout.
He pulls my shoulders and forces me closer to him as our skin slaps louder with each thrust.
“Christ,” he groans as he climaxes.
He gently
lifts me into his arms, walks me to the bed and pulls me close into his body as he folds the covers to shield our naked bodies. His warm breath inhales and exhales near my ear and I can stay like this forever wrapped in his arms.
“You’re still trembling. Was that too intense for you?” He brushes away my damp hair from my face.
“Is that all you’ve got, Mr. Van Der Linden?” I ask jokingly.
“Do you want more? I’ve got a lot more, but I don’t know if you can handle it,” he replies, as he trails the back of my neck with sweet kisses.
Chapter 4
The rest of the week in Paris is a whirlwind of meetings, facts, figures, translation and deals. Bryce is extremely pleased with my performance. He appreciates the expertise I bring to the table in helping him sway these French tech-kings to his side and persuading them to do business with his corporation.
“I’ve made more progress in securing big clients during this last week in Paris with you by my side than in the last six months on my own,” Bryce says over dinner one evening. “I thought I was going to have to give up on the French market.”
Bryce surprises me each morning with a sexy lingerie selection and a brand-new designer suit. He buys me so many new clothes, shoes, handbags and accessories that I have to buy a second suitcase to fit it all. No matter how much I probe him, he remains tight-lipped and refuses to share how he finds time to shop since we spend the entire day together. Secretly, I know he’s made arrangements with a personal shopper in Paris. I’ve come back to Paris enough to know this city gives New Yorkers fashion envy, because Parisians live for fashion, even more so than inhabitants of the Big Apple. Finding a trendy stylist who has connections with the top boutiques isn’t that complicated. Bryce has impeccable taste, but my body is hard to dress. I’m sure this stylist knows every inch of my body and yet I’ll never know who they are.