TouchofaDom Page 5

  “It is who she is. How she is, Helen, you do not understand how it is for me.”

  He was right there. “So tell me.”

  “It is Adele, she is so young and sweet, almost shy and now, it seems, she is not.”

  As complaints from men went, it was a new one. “You mean you’re disappointed she likes sex.” And pretty enthusiastic, close to rough, sex at that.

  “No, no, no! It is just I did not think she would be so…”

  “So what? Sexy? Enthusiastic? Incredible? Wonderful?” Honestly. Why was she even trying to understand?

  “She is all those, but what am I to do now?”

  “Talk to her. She darn well wanted to talk to you earlier but who knows, she might have changed her mind by now.”

  “But she is not here!” Dear heaven, it was as good as a wail and while part of her rather enjoyed seeing self-confident, even arrogant at times, Branko go all to pieces, she had work to do.

  “Branko. You need to be having this conversation with Adele. Not me. And if she’s so pissed with you that she never wants you to touch her again, that’s your fault not hers. However, I got the distinct impression she had great sex last night and this morning, at least, was rather inclined to repeat the experience often and with variations. So, if you still have half a brain, send her a text or call her and tell her you need to talk. And meanwhile, if you don’t have any work, I most certainly do. So scram!”

  With a shrug and more scowls and plenty of mutterings in a language other than French, he left. Helen shut the door.

  She had to catalog and sort out a series of engravings and lithographs to form part of an exhibition at the Sex Museum in Amsterdam. And she really wanted to be done before Luc got back. Otherwise he might spank her. Now that was a prospect. Almost made her want to be deliberately slow.

  * * * * *

  Adele ignored his first two messages. He sent a third one and after that Branko gave up, although part of him didn’t. Just thinking of her and sending a text gave him an erection and that was ridiculous. No woman ever did that to him. Seemed Adele Royer was the exception.

  He was tempted to get into his car and drive off for a couple of days to sort out his mind but reluctantly conceded Helen was right. He did need to talk to Adele. Actually he needed to fuck and be fucked but that had to wait.

  Or did it?

  He finally got a reply to his third text, hours later. It simply said, “Okay. After dinner.”

  He had hours to wait.

  * * * * *

  A satisfying and satisfactory day—in some respects. Adele made herself known to the suppliers the household used and even had an introduction to a new charcutier who was the son-in-law of the butcher. After picking up enough supplies to keep her going a couple of days before the deliveries started arriving, she was left with enough time to look up the second address.

  The house in a side street near the port turned out to be a nightclub, Velours Noir. It was firmly closed for the day but her repeated bell-ringing got the attention of a doorman who snippily, and unnecessarily, informed her the club was closed and, as a parting shot before he slid the judas peephole closed, informed her admission was for members only.

  Walking away, Adele wished she’d had the presence of mind to ask if anyone knew a Monsieur Jules Royer but she’d missed the chance. Maybe she’d come back one evening and try her luck again.

  Trouble was, three solid weeks of web searches and Googling had produced nothing. She’d found several Jules Royers—neither was exactly an uncommon name after all—but between an eighteen-year-old student in Caen and an octogenarian living in a home in Strasbourg, none was the right age to be her father.

  Enough for today. She had weeks ahead. Months even and now she really should get back and cook a dinner to impress her new employer.

  And face Branko.

  She’d ignored two text messages but had replied to the third. He could wait. Might give her time to decide what she was going to say to him. Starting off with “Fuck me again, please” just might make her appear a bit too desperate.

  Chapter Six

  Branko was ready to burst. Luc, just back from a visit to his mother in Antibes, was in a chatty mood and lingered over dinner just when a quick meal would have suited admirably. True, he saw Adele repeatedly during the meal as she brought in dish after dish but the conversation he wanted wasn’t one he planned on having in front of Luc and Helen.

  And to crown it all, Adele was deliberately avoiding him. When he’d tried to catch her the minute he realized she was back, she’d as good as thrown him out of the kitchen, telling him she was not going to let him ruin the first meal she prepared for her new employer.

  She scored there. Luc was duly impressed with the veal Marengo and the onion tarts that had started the meal and the fondant au chocolat was suitably mouthwatering. Not that Adele’s prowess in the kitchen was foremost in Branko’s mind.

  He was darn well holding her to talking to him after dinner if he had to corner her in the pantry to do it.

  Once dinner was over and Adele brought in their espressos, Luc praised the meal, welcomed her to Les Santons and told her she wouldn’t be needed any more that night.

  Luc might not need her but he damn well did. Branko was tempted to follow her but Luc obviously had questions.

  “Well?” Luc asked, once Adele was well beyond earshot. “Was there any reaction to the scene you played out last night?”

  Helen almost choked on her coffee.

  He was not going to. “It was—” Branko began, before Helen rudely interrupted.

  “Quite fantastic,” she said with a grin. “You’ll be sorry you missed it. She jumped right in halfway through and demanded Branko screw her.”

  Luc had the audacity to roar with laughter. “What on earth?” he asked, still chuckling.

  Helen told him. Damn, she was enjoying this. Luc thought it positively hilarious. Seemed he, Branko, was the only one not amused. Damnation! He needed to be sorting this out with Adele, not sitting watching the pair of them revel in mirth and merriment.

  “So,” Luc finally managed after an unnecessarily long period of inane chuckles, “she demanded your body, did she?”

  “She demanded it.” No point it denying it, was there? “And got it and had every reason to be satisfied with the outcome.”

  “And what about you, Helen? Were you abandoned and neglected? Most unchivalrous of our Branko.”

  “I was quite satisfied. It’s called self-service.”

  Luc was in a jovial mood this evening and how in hades she had the nerve to call it “self service” when her hands were tied down beat Branko. No point in saying so. “It wasn’t as planned but highly pleasurable. I think she will be a fine addition to the household.”

  “And given her skills in the kitchen, Branko, we must do all we can to ensure she wants to stay.” Luc smiled. “Don’t you agree?”

  He’d ignore the uncalled-for amusement in Helen’s eyes. “I will make every effort.”

  “I bet you will!”

  “I believe we can rely on you, Branko,” Luc said. The smirk was totally unnecessary.

  “With that thought in mind, I will wish you both bonsoir,” Branko said and stood.

  Luc told him, “Bonsoir.” Still smiling, Helen wished him “Bon chance.” He’d take it. He needed all the luck he could get.

  Determined not to let Adele slip away, Branko went straight to the kitchen where she was scraping plates and loading the dishwasher.

  She looked up as he came in but didn’t quite smile.

  “Hello,” was all he got.

  “We need to talk. You agreed.”

  “After I’ve cleaned up and finished here. I’ve got to get all this put away plus get things set for breakfast and that will be in the dining room. So scram, unless you’re prepared to help.”

  And why not? He grabbed an apron off the door and asked as he tied it around his waist, “What do you want me to do?”

 
She stared as if suspecting she was dreaming. No surprise there, he couldn’t quite believe he’d actually asked it. “Best start with the plates and glasses. Once the dishwasher is loaded I’ll have more space.”

  They got it loaded and he even had the thrill of going out with Adele to Pipo’s compost heap with a bucket of kitchen scraps.

  Coming back, he grabbed her hand and stopped her just outside the door. Once inside she’d get busy again but now he had her for a moment. “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  She didn’t pull her hand away. That was something. “Not exactly. I’m not sure about last night.”

  “Why? I thought it was incredible. You’re incredible.”

  “I went rather wild. I don’t usually act like that.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “I messed up your scene.”

  “Trust me, you improved on it.”

  She smiled. “Helen said you’d staged it for my benefit.”

  Helen should hold her tongue. “We wanted to get your attention.”

  “Oh, you got it all right.” She paused and shook her head. “Look, we can’t stand out here talking. I really do need to clean up inside.”

  “Fair enough. We go back in and I’ll help finish off, then we talk.”

  “Only talk?”

  He tightened his hold on her hand. “What else might you want to do?”

  She met his eyes in the twilight. “What about some more wild, up-against-the-pergola sex?”

  His cock hardened at the prospect. “You ignored two texts I sent you. Maybe I should spank you for that.”

  She stood on tiptoe and dropped a quick kiss on his cheek. “Maybe you should.”

  He spun around so she was backed against the wall and plastered his mouth on hers, pressing his body into hers, making sure she could feel his erection against her belly, and opened her mouth with his.

  She gave a little shiver, then met his tongue. Dear heavens, she knew how to kiss. Her tongue caressed his, teased him, all the while she pressed her body against his as she let out a series of muffled whimpers.

  He resisted the desire to stroke her breasts. He intended to leave her wanting and needy, just as he’d been all day. But he did indulge in pressing his knee between her thighs until she rode him, rubbing herself against him as she moaned with desire.

  Time to stop this, for now, at least. He stepped back and released her, sort of. She was still backed against the wall, only their bodies no longer touched. “I will spank you, Adele,” he told her. “I must for your own good so you learn not to ignore my texts but if you take your punishment like a good girl, then I will fuck you. I’ll fuck you until you scream with pleasure.”

  She met his eyes and moaned. “Branko, I still have to clean up.”

  “I know. I hope you will be in torment while you do the dishes. Torment that only I will release you from.”

  That earned him an impatient scowl but her eyes were bright with wanting. Good.

  He pitched in to help her finish. The sooner she was done, the sooner he’d get to wallop that pert and lovely bottom. It had felt wonderful in his hands last night. Tonight it would be warm and red as well. Meanwhile they got busy. Dishes and pans cleared away, uneaten food to the fridge or freezer.

  That done, she still wasn’t ready, there were plates and bowls to be set out for the morning. He even obliged by fetching jam from the pantry and filling the coffeemaker with water.

  She was clearly on edge but stayed focused on her responsibilities. If only she’d transfer that sort of focus to sex play. A man could only dream.

  When she was finally satisfied that all that could be done for the morning was done, she untied her apron, took his from him and hung them both on the hooks by the door. She washed and dried her hands for a final time and came over to him and knelt at his feet.

  His throat went dry as she lowered her head and said, “I am now ready to receive my punishment.”

  He rested his hand on her head. “My dear Adele, tonight you will receive a good and thorough spanking. I might even make you cry, but that will be all.”

  “No toys?” she asked, sounding disappointed.

  “Not this time, you must earn the privilege of a good flogging or bondage or a plug up your tight arsehole. But if you accept your discipline as I think you should, I will reward you with a nice, hard fuck.” To let her know what waited, he pressed the side of her face against his crotch. In response, she rubbed her face against his erection. A little cheeky that, but he let it go. It felt damn good on his side. “Now, my dear, stand up and off we go.”

  “Where?” she asked.

  Good question. Not to his place, it would be late when he brought her back and she had an early start in the morning, and not her bedroom—too intimate that. “Would you give me permission to use your sitting room as a place of discipline?”

  She looked up, her eyes wide and bright, her face flushed and so sexy. “You may.”

  “Perfect.” He helped her back to her feet. “Listen carefully. You are to go up to your room. I will follow in a little while. Before you go, take off your panties.”

  “What?”

  “Was that so hard to understand?” He put an edge in his voice. “Give me your panties.”

  “I’m wearing tights.”

  Slight logistical snag there but it wasn’t going to stop anything. “Then take them off and give them to me.”

  She did that, quite quickly too, and handed them to him. “Here you are.”

  He stuffed them into his pocket. Her tights were the springy, support sort, ideal for bondage if he felt so inclined. “Listen to me, Adele. You will walk across the drive, naked under your clothes, knowing full well that soon your arse will be hot and stinging from my chastisement. Once inside, you will take off everything but your skirt and stand in the middle of the room and wait for me. Is that understood?”

  She nodded. “May I stop to pee? I really need to.”

  He wasn’t ready to try that sort of torture on her. Not yet. “You may but be ready when I arrive or you will feel my belt as well.”

  She left and he wondered if she’d be late on purpose. He hoped not. He wanted her to feel his belt but another time.

  He’d give her fifteen minutes.

  * * * * *

  Adele had had lovers who demanded she strip naked and ones who wanted her to wear costumes. Others had liked boots or fuck-me shoes but wearing just a skirt was new. Hers was longish, utilitarian really but it didn’t restrict movement or his access. She could just imagine Branko whisking her over his knee with her skirt over her head. Or would he make her bend over a chair or have her touching her toes, her hands braced against her thighs?

  She’d soon find out.

  The exact center of the room was a bit hard to measure precisely. The room wasn’t square for a start and a coffee table stood in the rough midpoint. Maybe he’d position her on that. It would be hard on the knees. His lap or the chair would be more comfortable.

  Not that anything would feel that comfortable once her arse started throbbing. Her pussy clenched and she was sopping wet with anticipation. He’d promised this would be better than last night. She trusted him on that. He knew just how to spark her arousal with fear and promises but right now she was finding the middle of the room. She was not ready for a belting tonight.

  She moved the coffee table and took up position where it had been just as she heard footsteps on the stairs. He was coming. Unsure what to do with her hands—other lovers had been more explicit in detail—she clasped them behind her back and, as the door opened, lowered her head. Heart thumping, she waited for Branko to come close.

  Chapter Seven

  Adele swore she heard every single footstep as he crossed the floor to pause, just an arm’s length away.

  She took a slow, deep breath, did her utmost to relax and opened her eyes to see the toes of his polished shoes against the tiled floor.

  “Adele,” he said, his voice slow and al
most caressing. “You did exactly as I asked. Very, very soon I will do exactly as I promised.”

  His feet moved to one side and then out of her line of vision. Was he walking around her? Seemed so. She wanted to turn and watch but standing and waiting, head lowered, added to her sense of submission and that was what she yearned for.

  His shoes reappeared, just to one side. His hand rested on her shoulder. She shivered.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “No, not really. Just anxious.”

  “Why so anxious?” He stroked her shoulder, then eased his hand up the back of her neck.

  She took a breath before replying, “I want to please you and I’m not too certain what exactly you want.”

  “Look at me.”

  Their eyes met. His were dark and glittering. He smiled. “Adele, you please me by being here, naked-breasted and willing. It takes time to learn what two people desire. We will take that time and begin right now. Kiss me, like you did out in the garden last night.”

  That was easy enough.

  Adele wrapped her arms around him and he pulled her close. Her breasts pressed against his chest as she stood on tiptoe and lifted her face to his. Since he’d specified “kiss me”, she pressed her lips to his and parted them. His mouth opened under hers and he kissed back, his tongue teasing as the heat rose between them. Was it possible for a kiss to be so hot? Yes, yes and yes! His arms came around her and she felt his hand on her breast.

  She whimpered as he squeezed her nipple, and they kissed on. Her need rose as his hand worked her breast and she moaned. This was so good, so wonderful and so what she’d missed the past weeks.

  Gently he pulled away but kept his arms around her. “Are you wet between your legs?” he whispered.

  “I was wet back in the kitchen.”

  “Good,” he replied. “I want you to be wet for me. Makes the fucking of you even more fun.”

  She wouldn’t argue with that.

  “What,” he asked, his voice low and teasing, “must I do before I fuck you soundly? How much do you deserve and need? You definitely must get something for ignoring my texts and being so sexy and wanton.”