WET 2: London: A Steamy Holiday Romance

by Maggie Carpenter

  "A sex club?" Brittany whispered.

  "I believe that's how it began, but over time Andover Abbey has become something truly unique. They separated the wings, and now cater to many appetites, including Dominants. Rooms are available for getaways, but they also host parties and themed weekends. What do you think so far?"

  "I think it sounds fantastic!"

  "I thought you might feel that way," he said with a grin. " I was so sure you'd want to visit Andover Abbey I booked us a room, but you must be appropriately attired. When we leave here I'm taking you to a lingerie shop."

  "I am so, so, excited. What a wonderful surprise. When are we going? To Andover Abbey, I mean."

  "As long as you're sure you're up to it, tomorrow night."

  "Wow, this is incredible! I can't believe it."

  "One thing though," he warned. "Andover Abbey is where I plan to punish you for taking off like you did, and not returning my texts. I was frantic with worry. I understand the reasons behind your actions, but you need to be punished. You know that, don't you Brittany?"

  "Yes, Sir," she breathed, her butterflies bursting to life. "Um, can you tell me a little more about the Abbey."

  "I'll tell you about dinner. A few minutes after the plates have been cleared a gong sounds. The man at the head of the table stands up, raises his glass and says, and over."

  "The name!"

  "Yes, they've cleverly exploited it. The women must bend across the table. As a general rule, the head of the table gives each of the subs a decent swat to start things off," he said with a grin. "There's something else as well, but I don't want to spoil the surprise, and dinner is just one of the activities available."

  "Call me crazy, but I want to participate in everything."

  "Be careful what you wish for."

  "Have you taken other women there?"

  "Once or twice, and I've attended by myself as well. They have resident subs on the weekends."

  "Duncan, my head is spinning."

  "I know it's a lot to take in, but I'm very happy you're so enthusiastic."

  "I am. I truly am."

  He could see the sparkle in her eyes, and for a moment he was temped to tell her what he'd learned about the portrait, but decided to wait. He'd save that surprise until later.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The lingerie shop was a ten minute walk. Thinking she'd be trying on skimpy, sexy garments, Brittany had eaten only one small soufflé, and refused dessert and coffee. Standing in front of the window display, she was glad she'd resisted temptation.

  "They're so beautiful," she murmured, admiring the lacy outfits in the window.

  "Brittany," he said softly, putting his arm around her, "you're about to fulfill one of my long-held fantasies. We're here to buy you a corset."

  "We are? You mean you haven't done this before?"

  "Only in my dreams—and my books!"

  "That makes me so happy."

  "Me too. Very happy. Let's go in."

  Pushing open the door and walking inside, Brittany stared longingly at the array of elegant outfits.

  "Don't let me loose in here," she said softly. "I'll walk out a pauper."

  "We're going up those stairs," he said, guiding her past the sales clerks towards a wrought iron staircase.

  "How do you know about this place?"

  "Andover Abbey. Apparently it's very popular."

  "I can see why."

  Climbing the stairs and reaching the landing, they turned down a short hallway and found a door with a shining brass plaque.

  "Corsetry! This must be the place," he said, knocking lightly.

  The door was opened by a tall, stately woman wearing a black skirt and cream silk blouse, and her blond hair swept back into a bun.

  "Good afternoon."

  "We spoke on the phone. I'm Duncan Rhys-Davies, and this is Brittany Carter."

  "Delighted. My name is Mildred. Please come in. May I offer you refreshment? We have a selection of cakes, chilled champagne, fruit juice, coffee, tea, and cognac."

  "Perhaps in a few minutes," Duncan replied, glancing around as they entered.

  A blue and white sofa sat behind a coffee table, and a counter against a wall offered a variety of drinks and finger food.

  "We design and sew all our own garments," Mildred declared proudly. "There's a mistaken belief corsets are much the same, but you can see that is not the case. As I mentioned when we spoke, because your event is tomorrow you'll need to make your selection from our ready-made collection, but please be assured they still offer our exceptional quality. Do you have a particular color in mind?"

  "I'd like you to choose the corset, Duncan," Brittany said, speaking for the first time, silently adding, this is your fantasy, and I want it to be perfect.

  Duncan read the unspoken message in her eyes. His heart swelled, and he had to fight the desire to pull her into his arms and hug her.

  "Why don't you take a wander?" Mildred suggested.

  "I will. Thank you."

  As he began moving through the room, Mildred hovered nearby, while Brittany settled on the couch. He stopped only once, to study a cream corset covered in pearls.

  "No, none of these are right," he said, turning to Mildred. "Do you have anything else?"

  "There might be something already made in our Primrose collection, I'll check for you, but I need to take Miss Carter's measurements."

  As Mildred and Brittany disappeared behind a mirrored door, Duncan wandered towards the refreshments, but as he reached for a glass of water his eye caught sight of a mannequin tucked away in a corner. Intrigued, he moved towards it, but as he neared a sudden shiver pricked his skin. Gold beadwork flamed upwards from the waist, the tapered ends ending halfway around the cups, as though holding them up. Black sequins dancing haphazardly near the beads brought the sparkling pattern to life. The garment took his breath away.

  "Excuse me," he said, walking quickly to Mildred and she and Brittany reappeared. "I'm interested in the corset in that corner."

  "Isn't it simply divine?" Mildred remarked with a smile. "We found it at an estate sale. It was damaged, but it was too unique to pass up. We just completed its restoration, that's why it's not yet on display."

  "May Brittany try it?"

  "Certainly."

  "You think you found the one?" Brittany asked excitedly as Mildred left to fetch it.

  "I believe so. I just hope it fits."

  "Here we are" Mildred declared, returning with the corset over her arm. "Miss Carter and I won't be long."

  As they moved into the fitting room, Duncan ambled to the refreshment bar and splashed a small amount of brandy into a snifter. The rich liquid glided across his tongue and slid down his throat, He let out a breath. The corset had mesmerized him. It was almost unnerving.

  "Sir? We're ready for you," Mildred said, snapping him from the moment. "You'd think it was tailored just for her."

  Turning around, Duncan found himself dazzled.

  "I think it's absolutely wonderful," Brittany murmured, walking towards him with her eyes sparkling. "More wonderful than I can say. Do you like it?"

  "Absolutely," he managed, trying to curb the thrill in his trousers. "Thank you, Mildred."

  "Please join us in the dressing room. I'll show you how to lace."

  "Thank you, but I must have a private word with Brittany first."

  "Of course. I'll wait for you in there."

  The moment the door closed, he took her hand and moved her around so he could view her from the back. The sight was even more alluring.

  "Duncan, I feel weak at the knees," she said as she faced him again.

  "I'm having a similar reaction, in my own way, of course. You look exquisite."

  "You're making a fantasy of mine come true as well, except it's a fantasy I didn't know I had."

  "Brittany, I asked Mildred to leave us because I have to tell you this," he began, holding b
oth her hands. "When I found that corset I experienced a very odd sensation, and just now, when I saw you come out of the fitting room, I was overcome with a sense of déjà vu."

  "Oh, my gosh. Me too. The moment I looked in the mirror I felt almost dizzy. It was the strangest thing."

  "I'm a facts and figures man. This is throwing me for a loop."

  "What do you think it means?"

  "I don't know."

  "We shouldn't keep Mildred waiting, but, Duncan, this is one of those special moments we'll never forget."

  "Brittany, I believe you're right."

  * * * * * * * * * *

  Arriving home just in time to receive the delivery from Harrods, Duncan suggested Brittany take possession of the guest room. While she enjoyed a busy afternoon sorting through her new clothes, Duncan reviewed his many files, making notes and emailing his clerk. When the late afternoon became early evening, they met up in the living room dressed for dinner.

  "Duncan, you look so handsome. I missed you."

  "I missed you too," he said with a grin, softly kissing her, "but I liked knowing you were pottering around upstairs."

  "It was fun getting organized. Thanks for letting me use that bedroom for my things."

  "You need your own space, but let me look at you. I love that dress. Come with me."

  "Where? The taxi will be arriving any minute."

  "This won't take long."

  Leading her to the sofa, he sat down and abruptly jerked her across his lap.

  "What are you doing?"

  "What do you think?" he replied, pulling up her skirt. "What do we have here? A thong and suspenders! Excellent."

  "That was supposed to be a surprise for later!"

  "It's a surprise now, and something I'll enjoy thinking about during our meal, along with the hot bottom I know you'll be sitting on."

  "Why?" she whimpered with a wriggle.

  "I don't need a why, but in case you forgot, you followed me through the streets of London."

  "I thought you were saving that for Andover Abbey."

  "Consider this a deposit," he declared, raising his hand and landing a volley of hot slaps across the center of her backside.

  "Ow! Are you done? Can I get up?"

  "Of course not," he said sternly, instantly peppering her sit spot.

  "Ow, ow, ow, sorry! I shouldn't have asked."

  "No, you shouldn't have," he exclaimed, returning to the center of her backside to rain several hard swats, "and you just paid the price."

  "Ouch, oh, Sir, those hurt."

  "I should hope so, but now you can have your cuddle. You needed that," he remarked as she curled into his lap.

  "I know."

  "Once a week, I think. You'll be back over my knee next Friday night."

  "Even if I'm perfect all week?"

  "What do you think?" he retorted, helping her off his lap as the doorbell chimed. "That's our cab."

  Hurrying outside, a chilly gust of wind swirled around them, and when the taxi deposited them in front of the restaurant, they were met with light rain, but once inside the inclement weather was forgotten. A rich aroma filled the air, and Brittany fell in love with the intimate dining room.

  "This is gorgeous," she murmured as they settled at their table.

  "Are you sitting comfortably?"

  "Not exactly."

  "Excellent," he said with a wicked grin, then becoming more serious he reached for her hand. "This is the perfect place to tell you about the portrait, and after what happened today, it's the perfect time."

  "I'm dying to hear."

  "While you were busy getting mugged," he said, raising his eyebrows, "I researched the painter. The young woman was the love of his life, and he referred to her as Fille Précieuse. In English, that's precious girl."

  "Duncan! That's what you call me."

  "I've never used that term before, not with anyone."

  "Ooh, I just got goose bumps."

  "There's more. He met her on a ship."

  "He did not!"

  "He did, traveling across the English channel."

  "I can't believe this," she breathed, her eyes widening. "My goosebumps just got goosebumps."

  "And the last piece of information is even more startling. It's still difficult for me to comprehend."

  "Okay, I'm ready."

  "Her name was Babetta Babineaux, and she was a direct descendant from a noble family in Brittany."

  "My name! How weird is this?"

  "I've never been particularly religious or delved into spiritual things," he said, shaking his head, "but this is truly bizarre."

  "Duncan, when I saw you walking up that gangplank, I felt something," she said, squeezing his hands. "Every minute I was on that ship, before we met in the dining room, you haunted me."

  "I felt the same."

  "So…do you think this means we knew each other in another life? Could I have been Babetta, and you the artist who painted her portrait?"

  "I find that hard to accept, but I do want to find out where they lived and visit there. There's something else, something you don't know about me. I love to draw. I have illustrated many of my books. I wanted to become a graphic designer, but family encouraged me to take up law."

  "Wow! Yes, we have to find where they lived. I'll do the digging," she said excitedly.

  "The artist began his career painting scenes of the French countryside. At the very least I fancy a weekend away with you in a Chateau."

  "That would be fantastic!"

  "Then we'll plan on it."

  * * * * * * * * * *

  After a delicious meal and a bottle of Cabernet, they settled into the back of a taxi for the trip home. As it wound through the dark streets, Duncan whispered his fingertips along the inside of her thigh. Deciding to reciprocate, Brittany placed her hand over his crotch.

  "Cheeky girl."

  "What's good for the goose," she quipped, squeezing his member.

  "Move your fingers now, young lady," he warned, his lips at her ear, but it was too late. His cock had surged to full attention. "Sit on your hands, and don't move them until we get home."

  He tickled the gusset of her knickers for the remainder of the short trip, sending a flush to her face and a flood between her legs, and weak with need as they entered the house, she leaned against him. Immediately sweeping her off her feet, he carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom.

  "You are a naughty girl," he declared, hastily undressing her. "On the bed, hands and knees!"

  Striding to his dresser, he opened the bottom drawer to retrieve a length of cord and a blindfold, but as he turned to walk back to her, he discovered she was touching her sex.

  "What do you think you're doing?"

  "I couldn't help myself," she whimpered, dropping her fingers away. "Don't be mad."

  "Naughtier and naughtier," he scolded, placing the blindfold over her eyes. "Head on the pillow, and put your hands behind your back."

  Deftly tying her wrists, he landed several hard slaps across her perfectly poised posterior, then deliberately making her wait, he slowly peeled of his clothes.

  "Sir…?"

  "Yes, naughty girl?" he replied, kneeling on the bed behind her.

  "I need you, Sir, I need you so badly."

  As he separated her pussy lips, she whimpered and wiggled, and when he placed his cock against her soaked entrance, her body tensed in anticipation. He thrust forward, landing a hard slap on each cheek. She let out a yelp, then groaned as he began to pump.

  As he fell into a thrilling pattern of fucking and spanking, she found herself lost in a dark sky of sparkling sensations.

  "Please, Sir? May I come? I'm so close."

  "Do naughty girls deserve to climax?"

  "Yes, Sir, if that naughty girl loves you. Please, Sir, fuck me hard!"

  She heard a long, deep groan, then he abruptly pummeled her pussy. A wail rose up from dee
p within her, and crying out as the spasm hit, his fingers unexpectedly explored between her cheeks. But the lewd attention only served to heighten her moment. The convulsions sent sparkling currents pulsing through her limbs, until the glorious waves began to wane, and she sank into the afterglow.

  His flaccid member slipping from her depths, Duncan quickly untied her wrists and removed the blindfold, then dropping beside her, he wrapped himself around her limp body.

  "Fille précieuse" he whispered.

  "Mmmm, Bonne nuit mon amour," she replied, and drifted into sleep.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  It was a clear, brisk afternoon. After cruising the motorway for almost an hour, Duncan exited and drove down a road that led them deep into the countryside. Rolling to a stop in front of imposing wrought iron gates, he leaned out his window and entered a code on the entry pad.

  "This is so exciting I can't stand it," Brittany said as the gates swung open.

  "You're going to love this," Duncan replied, driving down the curved gravel driveway. "There it is." As the magnificent manor came into view, she caught her breath and clutched his arm. "I told you it was impressive."

  "Impressive? That's like saying a lion is a big kitten. You weren't kidding when you said it looked like Downtown Abbey. Good Grief!"

  As they neared the front of the house, two nattily dressed young men stepped forward. One opened Brittany's door, while the other greeted Duncan and gave him a ticket for his car.

  "Name, Sir?"

  "Rhys-Davies."

  "Would you care to have your cases delivered to your room?"

  "No, thank you. I'll be taking them myself."

  "Very good, sir, enjoy your stay."

  Popping the trunk, Duncan collected their bags, and as they walked toward the front door, their feet crunching the gravel, Brittany tugged at Duncan's sleeve.

  "You didn't tip him."

  "The privilege of rewarding and punishing the staff stays with the owners."

  Walking through the immense wooden doors held open by a liveried butler, Brittany gazed in wonder at the magnificent reception area. Tapestries and portraits graced the walls, and everywhere she looked was a bronze, an oversized floral display vase, or some other work of fine art.