Lovers and Other Strangers Box Set: The Boston Stories (43 page)

    "So beautiful." The words were like a caress against her skin. "You must not move." His voice was quiet but commanding, she had never heard him speak to her like that.

    "Oui Monsieur."

    "Good girl. Are you comfortable enough?" He soothed the clenched muscles in her back. One of his hands was always there to steady and support her.

    "Oui, Merci Monsieur."

    "Good, you must tell me if you are uncomfortable. Now do as I say and open your mouth." She startled at the command but she was sitting on top of him so there wasn't a lot he could do. She opened her mouth tentatively and felt him reach behind her and then he placed something cool on her lips. "Bite it." She did as she was told and the taste was peppery and earthy, the texture was crisp. "What do you taste?"

    "Radish, but it is delicious, usually I do not like them. Are you going to kiss me again?"

    "Not yet, I am afraid you make me more vulnerable than I am comfortable with. Besides, I was invited for dinner and the chef has prepared such good food. Still I may have to steal a few kisses." She felt his breath before the kiss. The heat of it on her sternum made her whimper. When she did, he chuckled against the sensitive skin and she knew he was tormenting her. Bon, she would have her turn eventually. She gasped when she felt his lips push aside her shirt.

    "You had a taste, now it is my turn." He traced the curve of her breast with his tongue and then placed a chaste kiss on the fullest part. It was all she could do not to scream in frustration.

    "Monsieur, May I move to be more comfortable?"

    "Of couse, my sweet." Now she would inflict her own little torture. She slid forward and canted her hips back so that she was pressed firmly along the ridge of his erection. Her breath caught. He was more than she had expected but now when he bent forward to tease her he would grind against her sex. With nothing but a few bits of cloth between them he would be tormenting himself as much as her.

    "Ah much better, less strain on my back. Merci, Monsieur" She almost laughed when he tried to answer and it came out in a strangled voice. "Pardon Monsieur, am I 'urting you?"

    "No. Not hurting."

    "Bon, are you going to feed me something else?" She heard him take a deep breath.

    "Yes, Yes, of course." He reached around her to cut something on the plate behind her and they both warmed with the contact between them. This was going to be a battle of wills, at least there wouldn't be any loser in the fight. He fed her small morsels of steak au poivre. It was cooked to perfection or at least what she considered perfection. Most people would consider the meat undercooked.

    "Parfaite, the cook should be rewarded."

    "I will... tell Allyn."

    "Bon, will I get to feed you monsieur? You 'aven't eaten anything."

    "You can't feed me with your blindfold on."

    "I can be creative, look." She turned slightly and lightly brushed some of the serving dishes with her fingers. She found mashed potatoes and put a finger full in her mouth. The cook had made them with cream and roasted garlic. She scooped another large finger full out and turned back to him. She paused for a second to make sure he was watching, then she slowly smeared the rich, savory food down her neck. "There, now you can taste it."

    She felt him hesitate before he reached forward again, tormenting them both, licking and sucking the food from her neck. When he was done she was on the verge of climax.

    "Monsieur Smith, please make love to me." came out as a whisper. He hesitated again and then she felt his hands on her thighs. When she moved before, her skirt rode up high on her thighs. Now he skimmed her inner thighs with his thumbs. His hands were so warm, his touch both sensual and comforting. Her hands were still on his knees and she used her position to lift her hips to him. The stroking stopped.

    Allyn steeled himself for what he was about to do. He had dreamed of a moment like this for far too long and to deny himself of it hurt physically, not in his groin, though that was definitely causing him pain. No, it hurt in his chest like his heart was tearing. He wanted her, needed her but not like this, erotic though this had been he would not have the first time he made love to her be on a table during dinner. He smiled ruefully, better to save that for the honeymoon or surprise her some Saturday night after they were married a while. Still he'd started this and she needed release.

    "I can't do that darlin'" He felt her flinch at the accent. She made a noise that was half moan, half sob. He slid her further down his thighs and reached down for her ankle. He folded her leg up and over him so she now sat on his lap but across him. He lay her back across his arm cradling her against his chest. His erection was pinned against her hip. If nothing else she now knew the effect she had on him, even if it was by another man's name. He nibbled her neck then moved to her ear. She groaned.

    "Monsieur, you will not make love to me or you can't make love to me because..."

    "Oh, I think you can tell I can. I won't, not here, not yet. I want the first time I make love to you to last hours, that is not going to happen tonight." He slid his hand slowly up the inside of her thigh. "But I wouldn't be a gentleman to leave you in this state either." His voice had become a growl in her ear and part of him thrilled at the shiver that ran through her at his words. His thumb found the edge of her panties. He followed the satin down and found it soaked. Even with her blindfolded he buried his smile in her shoulder, pressing his face under the collar of the shirt to reach her flushed skin. He followed the satin edge down further to where the cording slipped between her cheeks. When she gasped he bit gently on the crook of her neck to keep from laughing. He swept his thumb up and under the lace that made up the front of the G-string.

    Such a silly little garment, it seemed to serve no real purpose beyond decoration of that portion of the female anatomy. It represented everything he loved about her. She had been teasing him by rocking against him, now he wanted to return the favor. He stroked his thumb slowly up and down her outer labia. Of course she had waxed herself bare. His mouth watered at the thought of tasting her. Not now, next time when he wasn't so needy himself. Tonight was about introducing her to what he could give her, just a taste so she would want more. His lips found one of her breasts and she hiss at the contact.

    "Merde! You are teasing me!" His only answer was to use his teeth on her pearled nipple. She arched against his lips and hand to try to increase the contact.

    "Patience sweetheart, all in good time. You take things too fast." When she settled down he finally slipped his fingers past her outer labia to her inner folds. She was so wet. He circled her vagina with first one finger then another. She was shaking with the effort to hold still. He moved to her ear. "Relax, enjoy this. I want to give you the attention you deserve." He felt her slump against him, her head grew heavy and she slid one arm around him.

    "Good girl, let me take care of you." She murmured something in French he couldn't tell if it was an endearment or curse but she kept her body relaxed. He slowly slid one finger inside her. It wasn't nearly enough contact, he was sure, but it seemed to appease her. He rubbed the pad of his thumb across her clit and she jumped.

    "I'm sorry Monsieur."

    "It is fine, try to ignore what I am doing. The longer you let the sensations build the better it will be."

    "Oui, I will try, mais it is difficile."

    "Shh now." He kissed her to distract her from what he was doing with his hand. When she had gotten used to his touches he added another finger to the first. Now she could feel the fullness. She was young and while he knew she wasn't a virgin, she would need a little preparation to manage him comfortably. The thought of being inside her made him ache worse than he had been. As much as he was telling her to slow things down, he needed a reminder too. He found her breast again and started sucking in time to the slide of his fingers. After a minute he added a third finger and heard her hiss in her breath.

    "Too much, sweetheart?"

    "Non, mais... I want to...

    "I know. Not just yet. Soon, I promise." She settled again. He slowed his movements letting her muscles get used to the new intrusion. After a minute he heard her sigh and knew that now she was ready. He stilled fingers and made sure he wasn't stoking too hard on her clitoris. He could tell she wasn't sure what to make of the change. He concentrated his stroking on one spot. Trying to make sure that he was using the lightest touch possible. Within minutes she came undone in his arms. Her head snapped back, she gripped his fingers inside her like a vise. She dug her nails in to his back. She was magnificent to watch, primitive, goddess-ike. He kept up the gentle stroking, knowing that she would be able to prolong her orgasm the more he did. After the initial surge she lay trembling, floating on the deeper pulses too overcome to even cry out. As much as he would have liked to continue, he was aware that she was not used to such intense love-making and after ten minutes he stopped. She curled up in his arms as he lifted her and carried her into the study. She was almost asleep by the time he laid her on the couch. He covered her with a blanket and kissed her on the forehead.

    "Sleep, my sweet." She murmured and nuzzled the hand stroking her cheek, drifting off with a smile on her face.

    Now he needed to change back into his "Allyn" clothes. He also needed to take care of his own needs but first he had to make sure she was okay. He raced to change into his dress shirt and suit pants. He grabbed the newspaper to hide the evidence of his arousal. When he walked back in to the study she was sitting up rubbing her eyes, the blindfold on the couch beside her.

    "Oh Allyn, What 'appened to Monsieur Smith?"

    "He left a minute ago, said you were sleeping. Are you alright?"

    "Oh, Oui, I am fine. I need a shower." When she stood up her legs buckled but he caught her, trying hard not to grin in triumph. It wasn't everyday he made a beautiful woman go weak at the knees. She curled her body against him and he desperately wished he could just lift her in his arms as he had done just minutes ago.

    "Do you need help up the stairs?"

    "Non, I will be fine now."

    "I'll follow you up." At the top of the stairs she turned to Violet's wing and he went to his. Standing under the torrent of water in his shower he felt like a teenaged boy reduced to getting off there because he couldn't approach the pretty girl. He replayed the evening in his head as he stroked up and down his length. She was so beautiful, playful, sensual. Her skin tasted of honey butter. He loved how she trembled in his arms, how her breath caught when he worried her nipples. She was so untutored but willing to learn. It would be heaven to meld his body to hers. Take her to the heights he had tonight with his cock. Feel her body arch against his, skin to skin. He could almost hear her call out his name as she came. That thought sent him into the void, almost bringing him to his knees. As he came back to his senses, he did hear her calling to him from the other side of the door. Damn! Had he yelled out her name? Did she know what he was doing or worse, why?

    "I'll be right there Marie." He dried himself off and threw on pajama pants and the thickest terrycloth robe he could find. As soon as he opened the door she threw herself at him. With her arms around his waist she held him tight.

    "Allain, Monsieur Smith was wonderful." Allyn was confused, did she know?

    "I'm glad you liked him, he liked you very much too." Now she looked up at him and wrinkled her nose.

    "I... when will I get to see him again?"

    "I don't know. I thought he would talk to you." He felt like an ass for not having figured something out but she wasn't in any shape to make plans when he'd left her. "I suppose he'll be in touch, maybe he has a surprise planned?"

    "Hmm, that must be it."

    "So you enjoyed his company that much?" He was having trouble thinking since she hadn't let go of his waist yet and was leaning into him like a lover. If she kept this up with his bed right there, her in just a robe, he was in big trouble.

    "Oh, oui, he was very good at -conversation." Then she burst out laughing. They hadn't exactly talked about anything had they.

    "You should go to bed. Oh and I'll take you tomorrow to replace your shirt."

    "What was wrong with my shirt?"

    "Oh nothing, I just thought I saw a stain on it. Maybe it was just the light?" Damn, he almost tripped himself up.

    "What was Monsieur Smith like when he left?"

    "I don't know, we just sort of nodded at each other. Why?"

    "Just wondering if 'e found the conversation as exciting as I did?"

    "No idea." The conversation no, watching her in the throws of ecstasy, very exciting indeed. "La Reine, I am tired and need to get some sleep. We can talk about your date tomorrow."

    "D'accord, bonne nuit." then she kissed him, it was almost sisterly and he was both thrilled and disappointed. When she was at the door she turned around and stared at him with an unmistakeable look of desire.

    "Allain, I really like this Monsieur Smith of yours." Allyn just stood transfixed.  

    Marie-Hélène loved visiting his tailor. His poor tailor might never recover. Enzo was an older somewhat conservative classic Italian tailor. He did not take well to having Marie intrude on what, in Enzo's opinion, was one of the last great male rituals of privilege. If she had just been visiting to give an opinion on color or cut that would have been bad enough. But the woman wanted a shirt, and like a good French woman she had very exacting requirements that seemed to have nothing to do with actual fabric. When it was time for Enzo to finally measure the girl, he turned varying shades of red through to purple. Allyn couldn't remember the last time he'd had as much fun buying anything for himself.