The Hidden Mistress - An Erotica and Romance Paranormal/Historical Novelette (6 page)

Marie, who had been prepared to be slapped, whipped and deported, hardly believed her ears. “That would be wonderful,” she said faintly.

“Excellent.” The baroness stood up on her knees. “Then turn around.”

Marie turned around as fast as she could, most of all to hide her open mouth. When the baroness stood up, water and soap ran off her body and outlined it in all its perfection. Her breasts were less full than Sophie’s and her lips slightly broader, but there was a chiselled beauty to her body that made Marie recall statues of old Greek divinities. Perhaps the baroness was a former ballet dancer; that would explain her graceful arms, her strong legs and the relaxed elegance of her movements.

Without warning, the baroness emptied a pitcher of water over Marie. Marie shouted out in surprise; the water was so hot it zinged her skin.

“My apologies,” the baroness said in an amused tone. “I should have prepared you. Now hold still while I comb your hair.”

Lost for words, Marie raised her head so that the baroness could reach her hair. A few minutes ago, she had been ready to fight for her life; now she was bathing together with a painfully attractive woman. The many quick turns left her dazed.

“I am jealous,” the baroness said. “If only I had had hair like this. Thick, rich and golden. I am doomed to this hopeless tangle.”

“You are too kind – ” Marie sucked in air as she felt the baroness brush against her. It had been only a moment’s contact, but enough to send images of the baroness’s body racing through her mind.

“Nonsense.” With long, measured movements, the baroness teased out every hint at a snarl. “I’ll use a conditioner to highlight its sheen.”

“Thank you,” Marie said.

 “It’s from Peloponnese, in Greece. Made from olive oil and herbs from a...yard. A true rarity in France.”

“Then I’m doubly grateful.” Marie felt the cool liquid on her scalp and heard the baroness put the bottle away. Using her fingers, the baroness massaged the conditioner into Marie’s hair, and Marie closed her eyes in bliss. She was both faint and excited. The baroness had used too much conditioner; it was running freely down her back and over her buttocks. If the baroness noticed, she said nothing.

But Marie did not mind. Feeling the slick oil on her skin was pleasant, so it only added to the magic of the moment. This bath would sustain her fantasies for months. Perhaps years. Maybe she could recreate this occasion with Anna, back in her own bathroom.

Silent, the baroness worked the conditioner into Marie’s hair. After a few minutes she let her hands rest on Marie’s shoulders. “Your travels have left you stiff,” the baroness said softly and ran her fingers over Marie’s back. “Those carriages are awful. They always made my back hurt.”

Marie’s mind was reeling. Having her hair washed had been a glorious experience; this was a much more intimate touch. “That is true,” she managed to say. “So you don’t use carriages then, my lady?”

“Pardon?” The baroness sounded distracted. “No, I do not.” Her fingers travelled up to Marie’s neck, where they rested against her skin just below her ears. “I believe I can do something about this.”

 “About what?” Marie asked and swallowed hard. It was a struggle not to tremble under the baroness’s gentle strokes. Whatever the woman meant, Marie hoped she would not stop what she was doing.

“Your stiffness,” the baroness said quietly. “I can treat it.”

Marie could not resist smiling. Just as she had hoped earlier that night, this would be a visit to remember for the rest of her life. “You have many skills,
Madame,
” she said.

“I should hope so.” The baroness laughed softly, pressed her thumbs into Marie’s back and made small circles with her fingers. “How does this feel?”

Marie’s eyes almost rolled back into her head. Once, when she had strained a muscle in her shoulder, a nurse had kneaded her arms to help the healing. That had felt good, but compared to this, the nurse’s treatment had been a punishment. This massage made her whole body weak. Unless she was careful, she would start to moan with pleasure.

“It is –
oh, mon Dieu.
” Marie laughed and sighed.  “It’s very nice, my lady.”

“Perfect.” The baroness moved closer. “Do not move.”

Marie felt the baroness’s hip press into her own backside. Her eyes flew open and she forced herself to keep still, but it was hard. No, it was torture. The sensation of the baroness body against her own was wonderful, and she felt her pulse race. Not pushing back against the baroness was almost impossible.

But Marie did not move. She was the master of her own body. She
was.

A thought came to her, and she wondered if the baroness toying with her. No, that was impossible; noblewomen did not trick their guests into games. Especially not games of this kind.

Still, it was becoming too hard to stay still. Knowing the other woman was right behind her was unbearable, and by now Marie was blushing from more than embarrassment. She
wanted
the baroness. All of her being demanded that she turned around and kissed the woman. One long and passionate kiss, then Marie would show the baroness how one woman pleased another. Not that Marie would be so bold, but she would toy with the idea in secret.

“Would you mind if I made use of the rest of the conditioner?” the baroness asked quietly. “It would be a pity to waste it, and it is an excellent lotion.”

“Of course,” Marie answered, not entirely sure what the baroness meant and too delirious to care.

“Brilliant.” The baroness voice was so low the wind almost drowned it out. She moved closer so that her breasts touched Marie’s back, then moved her hands around Marie and in under Marie’s breasts.

Marie gasped but kept still. As the baroness ran her hands over Marie’s belly, working the oily conditioner into her skin, all her concerns melted away. She felt the other woman’s nipples rub gently against her skin. The baroness’s breath was slow and cool, but Marie could tell there was excitement in it.

Safely facing away from the baroness, Marie grinned to herself. Perhaps the baroness was playing a game after all. That did not matter; there were two people to a game. Marie was generous, so she would let the baroness have her way. At least for a little longer. If Marie became convinced that the baroness was teasing her, she would turn the tables and show the baroness what real passion was.

But doing that was dangerous. What if this treatment really
was
an old ritual? She could not advance on the baroness until she was absolutely sure. If Marie insulted the woman, her social career would be over almost as soon as it had started.

As if the baroness was reading her mind, she moved her hands higher, cupped Marie’s breasts, and used her fingers to caressing them with slow and measured strokes. Marie stifled a gasp, and bit her lip. There was no doubt; the baroness was definitely doing her best to drive her insane. Every time the woman’s fingers neared Marie’s nipples, Marie shivered hard. This was not a massage; this was glorious, prolonged and cruel torment. Still, she hoped it never would end.

“Do you enjoy this?” The baroness’s spoke close to Marie’s ear.

Marie’s eyes flew open. “I do,” she answered.

“I know.” The baroness ran her hands down Marie’s belly, continued down the front of her thighs, then back up until she held Marie’s nipples between her firm fingers. “I can tell you want more.”

Marie swallowed and held back a groan. Goosebumps formed wherever the woman touched her. “I shouldn’t,” she said, but it was useless. The baroness’s touches and hushed voice was dissolving Marie’s resistance.

“This is not the first time a woman is close to you.” The baroness did not ask; she was stating a fact. Her finders moved slowly around Marie’s nipples as she spoke.

“I mustn’t tell,” Marie said weakly. “It’s – it’s a secret.”

“Oh, please,” the baroness scoffed, brushing away Marie’s protest. “I can tell that there is a woman who shares your sheets. Am I correct?” The baroness’s caress became closer to a pinch.

“Anna,” Marie breathed, then pressed her lips together. Why had she said her maid’s name out loud? Having the baroness’s hands around her breasts was making her both deranged and careless. Unless she watched herself, she might let slip all kinds of secrets.

“Ah, yes.” The baroness mumbled softly into the nape of Marie’s neck. “Your pretty servant.”

“She is – ” Marie took a deep breath and tried again. “We have private games,” she finished. “But no one must know.”

“I understand,” the baroness replied. “I suppose she is a tantalizing woman?”

“Why do you ask this?” Marie asked, desperate to try to find a foothold. At this rate, she would turn into a lump of submissive clay in the baroness’s hands, and that was
not
according to plan. Not that she had a plan, but that was not the point.

“Because I want to know how much you know,” the baroness said, “and how much you have left to learn.” Her hands slid down to Marie’s buttocks. “My guess,” she whispered in Marie’s ear, “is that you have many sights to see.”

“I don’t understand,” Marie breathed.

“Do not move.”

Forcing herself to hold still, Marie clung to the edge of the tub. When one of her hands slipped on the porcelain, she moved it to the sideboard and gripped one of its wooden ledges. Her knuckles whitened with the effort. Why the baroness wanted her to keep still, she had no idea, but she did not dare to move. If the baroness stopped, Marie would burst apart with desire.

With agonizing patience, the baroness used her fingertips to explore Marie’s backside, stroking and pressing
just so
to
making Marie shudder and breathe hard. After endless teasing, the hands continued down between Marie’s thighs and stayed there, one finger resting against her cleft.

There was no force or pressure, only the ghost of a touch – but the knowledge of whose finger it was, and the idea what might happen next, were enough to make Marie tremble almost uncontrollably.

“Say it.” The whisper was a cool breeze in Marie’s ear. “I can sense your desires,” the baroness demanded. “They are written on your face. But I want you to say them out loud.”

“I – ”

“You want this.”

“Yes,” Marie whispered.

“Restraint is for the weak,” the baroness hissed. “For fools who believe in second chances.”

 “I’m – I can’t – ” Marie moaned. She was shaking  so hard that she soon would slip and fall.

“Yield to your lust,” the baroness ordered her. “
Do it.
”

And with that, Marie gave in. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back, and drew a shuddering breath. “Take me,” she breathed. “Please.”

With a soft laugh, the baroness gently pressed her fingertips around Marie’s most sensitive spot, then parted her fingers and stroked her. Marie’s hands made a screeching noise as the clasped the porcelain. Her arms were shaking. Only with an effort did she stop herself from crying out.

While Anna knew how to satisfy her, she was always submissive and never took advantage. The baroness, however, had no such scruples; her touch was knowing and careful but firm and demanding. If she would try to move away, she was sure that the baroness would hold her still. It was frightening, but it also stirred a deep hunger in Marie. Never had she given in completely to her cravings. Now it seemed she had no choice.

But letting go of her need for self-control was hard. Until now, only Anna had known about Marie’s needs, and Anna was a servant whose stories easily could be dismissed. This was different. The baroness could destroy Marie’s reputation at a whim. How Marie had ended up in this situation was a mystery to her.

Still, there was nothing she could do. The baroness had already vaporized Marie’s willpower. Her body wanted this, and it would not be denied. Even if she had tried to hold back, for the sake of prolonging the act or for sheer dignity, it would have been impossible. By skill or luck, the baroness knew her body’s every secret. Whimpering, Marie held on to the bathtub as hard as she could while her body racked.