A Chamber of Delights (7 page)

‘What are we going to do about Flanders?’ Gael asked, almost casually between sips of her coffee.

Sophie studied her over her own cup. ‘What do you mean, “do” about him, miss?’

‘I think he needs a lesson in humility.’ Gael fixed Sophie’s eyes, intent on seeing if she agreed or not.

A wide smile told her that she did. ‘Tie him up and whip him, do you mean? I’d like that. But only if I can have him afterwards.’

‘That would only encourage him. He needs depriving for a while. Let him stew.’

‘I could touch him up and shut him out for a couple of days,’ Sophie said brightly. ‘That would get him mad. He’s marvellous when he’s mad.’

Gael thought seriously. ‘You just shut him out. If he comes on strong with you, just slap his face. That should put him off.’

‘So he’ll come on to you, you mean?’ Sophie frowned. ‘No way.’ She pulled her T-shirt over her breasts and closed her arms across them.

‘But don’t you want to punish him for last night?’

Sophie frowned again. ‘I was a bit slow, that’s all. Sometimes I come like a bomb as soon as he slips it in me.’

Gael could see that this was getting her nowhere. She was determined to teach the man a lesson, whether the housemaid approved or not. She got up from the table. ‘If you’ve finished breakfast, you have work to do, Sophie, my dear. I want this house shining like a new pin. The caterers will bring table settings, but I’ll cut some flowers and do some general arrangements.’

‘Cut the flowers at your peril,’ Sophie pouted. ‘Todd hates people messing about with his herbaceous borders.’

Gael soon found out that Sophie was right. Soon after she set foot on the border in the sunken garden, secateurs in hand, Flanders appeared through the gateway leading from the stable yard.

‘What do you think you’re doing, miss?’ He closed on her.

She gave him a stony glare. ‘I’m cutting flowers for the house.’

He moved nearer, his shirt open to the navel. She could smell him and it made her thrill again. Why did men do this to her? She stiffened her resolve against it and snipped at a blue delphinium spike.

He took her wrist. ‘These flowers aren’t for cutting, miss. They’re for colour in the garden.’ His lips came close to hers.

‘I’ll cut them if I want to.’ She tried to pull away. Too conscious of his moist mouth, she began to tremble. His grip on her wrist was hard but she shook it off. ‘Now get out of my way or find another job.’

He frowned down at her. With the top buttons of her
blouse undone, it gaped wide open to show the cleavage of her breasts. She wore no bra as usual and the dusky pink of her nipples showed plainly through the silk.

He stood back and watched her angrily as she snipped, amassing a great pile of colourful blooms on the short grass at his feet.

‘Bring them to the scullery for me, will you,’ she snapped as she turned her back on him.

As she strode away, Gael saw him bend and pick up an armful of flowers, his complexion white with anger. She quickly told Sophie to do the upstairs work and had already prepared several vases when he arrived in the scullery. He laid the blooms on the large, pine table and folded his arms. Magnificent now that he was angry, she recalled images of his nakedness and his potency. Angry men had such a stimulating effect on her.

She worked quickly and deftly, well practised in arranging flowers. Flanders made her nervous as he stood close beside her, his arms crossed, the veins of his temple pumping. She wondered what other veins were pumping too. He had sworn to Sophie that he would ‘have Miss Goody-goody’. Was he biding his time? Was he waiting for a chance opportunity?

Gael decided that she needed another vase. A terracotta ewer sat on a high shelf. She took a step ladder and climbed. Flanders didn’t offer his help so she snapped, ‘If you’re going to stay and watch, you could at least hold the steps for me.’

He just stepped back and folded his arms, watching every movement as she climbed.

With her bottom above the level of his head, she was conscious that he might be looking up her skirt. When she stretched for the ewer, she thought he might see that she wore no knickers. As she set her legs apart, the ladder wobbled. She tried to steady it but the floor was uneven. When the ewer crashed to the ground, she cried out, ‘Help me, Todd.’

He darted forward as she toppled, one hand yoking her under the arm, the fingers touching her breast. As she fell towards him his other hand snaked inside her skirt and gripped her thigh. She had no time to tell if the intimate grip was intentional or not. All she knew was that his hand was between her legs, only inches from her cleft, and that she was hot there from the excitement of his presence.

He steadied her, taking the whole of her weight, bracing the ladder with his leg, just holding her and feeling her.

‘Now what does Miss want me to do?’ he asked cynically.

‘LET ME DOWN,’
Gael snapped, trembling with the sensation of Flanders’ hand between her legs as he stopped her falling from the ladder.

He pushed the ladder upright, still supporting her, and his hand slid further up her leg as she leant on him. His fingertips touched the fringes of her sex just fleetingly as he guided her down and set her on her feet.

She turned to him angrily but quenched her rage when she saw that he was genuinely concerned about her. When she began to tremble with the shock, he put his arms around her shoulders and held her closely.

He kissed her head. ‘Are you all right, miss?’

Her breasts against his chest felt hot. His heart was beating fast as he yoked her neck and kissed her temple. She pulled away. Damn it, was he trying to seduce her?

Her rebuff seemed to make him angry. ‘You might at least say thank you. I could have let you fall.’

She threw her head back haughtily. ‘But then you wouldn’t have been able to put your hand where it had no business to be, would you.’

He pulled her close again. ‘But you liked it. You’re moist where a woman only gets moist when she wants a man. Don’t pretend you don’t want me. I can see it in your eyes, miss.’ She felt that he added the ‘miss’ out of habit, not because he felt subservient to her.

She snapped, ‘Firstly, Mr Flanders, a woman might become moist without craving for a pig like you. Secondly, I don’t want you, except to do the gardens.’

‘But I think you do.’ He held her so gently as he whispered the words that she was beginning to soften to him.

She stiffened. ‘Then you think wrong. Let go of me.’

As he defied her, she began to feel vulnerable but she was determined not to let him get the better of her.

His breath was hot upon her face as he put his lips to hers. ‘Did you enjoy watching me and Sophie last night, miss?’

That took Gael by surprise. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She whispered it meekly, realising that she was losing control of the situation as well as her reactions to the man.

‘You know full well what I mean. I heard a twig snap and saw you dart behind a tree.’

Gael’s solar plexus heaved. So the show had been for her benefit. He had purposely made remarks about having ‘Miss Goody-goody’ just to goad her. And he had probably put on his display with Sophie in the belief that it would stimulate the watcher.

The veins in his neck pulsed as he looked down at her. ‘Did you enjoy watching me fuck her?’

‘There’s no need to use language like –’ She stopped abruptly as he bit her ear.

‘But that’s what it was. I wasn’t making love to her. I was fucking her. That’s what she wanted. It’s all she ever wants.’

Gael snorted. ‘That’s what you think she wants.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘And how would you know what the little hell-cat wants or doesn’t want from me?’

Gael flicked her hair back angrily. ‘Because she told me – that’s how!’

Now he came in close again, whispering in her ear, ‘And what did she tell you, miss? Did she say how much
she likes me to tie her to the bed and lick her armpits, down her flanks and up between her legs while she cries out for my cock?’

Gael didn’t answer. He was too close and she was too excited by him for her mind to reason properly.

‘Or did she tell you how she likes me to hang her by the ankles in the hay loft with her legs splayed wide apart while I stroke her fanny with a feather duster?’

Gael brought herself up tall. ‘No – she did not. And I think you have a very vivid imagination, Mr Flanders.’

He closed on her again. ‘Then what did she say she wanted, miss? How does she want me to fuck her in the future?’

‘If you must know, she wants to be loved. She wants to be kissed passionately and taken very slowly until she climaxes.’

He stood back, set his head back and laughed loudly, his large hands spread on his hips, his belly pumping. Gael could see that his bulge was swollen inside his shorts but he didn’t try to disguise the fact.

She glowered. ‘And what’s so unusual about a woman wanting to be loved like that?’

He grinned. ‘I think young Sophie’s been stringing you along, miss. If I know anything about her, all she ever wants is a good whipping before I fuck her.’

Gael was in a spin. She sensed that he was right. And even though he used the F word liberally, it was the only word to use for the way he’d taken the girl. Sophie had clearly loved every second of it.

She tried to move away but he took her chin again and pulled her face towards his own. She trembled as his lips closed upon hers.

He whispered, ‘Would you like me to fuck you, miss?’

Gael tried to look away but he raised her chin and kissed her lips again. It was a tender kiss and it made her resolve melt. Perhaps he was romantic after all. Perhaps his hardness with Sophie had only been for
show. Or perhaps he’d only been rough with the girl because that had been what she’d wanted.

‘Have you ever felt a man, miss?’ It was whispered into her mouth as she held her lips apart, breathing deeply to relieve her tension.

She shook her head and swallowed.

He took her hand and ran her fingers down the long bulge in his shorts. As the fingers flexed and rubbed him, a sigh of pleasure passed his lips. Now she knew that he was sure he had her under his spell.

‘So – what did you see by the lake, miss?’ His gaze was fixed upon her face now, not missing a flicker.

Feeling more confident, she smiled demurely. ‘I saw you naked, teasing Sophie.’ She palmed his bulge and held it, her fingers curving around his testes. He was so strong inside his shorts. She wanted to bare him and hold his hot flesh in her hand.

‘Did you see me lick between her legs?’ He whispered it as he pushed his bulge forward.

Gael nodded with her eyes half closed.

‘And did watching her being licked there make the place between your own legs moist?’ He kissed her lips again.

This time she remained silent.

He took her chin and lifted her face to his. ‘And what else did you see me do?’

She turned her head away but he turned it back. ‘I think you saw how I spread her on the grass and drove this into her.’ He pushed himself into Gael’s palm again. ‘Do you know how it feels as a man opens you out with the hardness of his cock, then spurts inside you, miss?’

She shook her head again, her eyes cast down. ‘I only saw you at a distance. I’ve never seen . . .’ She gulped. ‘I’ve never seen a man in great detail.’

He made her look up into his eyes, a knowing smirk on his face. ‘Yes. I thought you were naïve.’ He pushed into her hand with little rhythmic motions of his hips,
the bulge hard and long now. ‘Would you like to feel it in the flesh? There’s nothing to be afraid of.’

She lowered her eyes once more, keeping up the pretence of innocence.

Without waiting for her consent, he pulled his zip down and undid his leather belt – the same belt that he’d used to tie Sophie to the bough. Then he peeled his fly apart.

Gael’s hand was trembling as she touched the warmness of his penis. It was huge. She wanted it. Here. Now. On the table. On the floor. My God, any way at all. But she knew she must not. She’d sworn to teach him a lesson for the way he’d taken Sophie and the way he assumed he was going to have herself.

As the shaft sprang out, he made her take it, wrapping her fingers tightly about its girth. The musky scent of it made her reel. Her nipples swelled and her solar plexus trembled.

‘My God,’ she whispered, looking up innocently into his eyes. ‘I’m sure that it’s too big for . . .’

‘For that tight little slit between your legs with its fringe of curly hair?’ Then he made her work his foreskin. The glans was engorged, its profile strongly defined. Its scent welled up again.

‘You can make it even bigger by stroking it like this.’

He made her stroke the web in the cleft of the glans with the tip of her forefinger. The light touch caused the whole shaft to swell and stiffen.

‘Why does it do that?’ She gave him a doe-eyed look as she fingered the web gently.

He put his mouth to her ear. ‘So that when it pushes up the slippery, hot and pulsing, squirming, yearning slit between your lovely legs, it can fill it fully, miss.’ A hiss of a smile accompanied his words.

She pushed him back against the table and drew aside his shirt so she could see him in all his potent glory. Now that she had him horny and exposed she felt
elated. So far, so good. But she knew that he could take control of her at any second and have her in any way he liked – he was too strong for her.

‘What do I do now?’ She looked at him with such innocence that she almost believed it herself.

‘Make a tube with your hand like this.’ He made her masturbate him slowly, his large hand curling over her fingers. ‘Now move it up and down. That’s perfect. You’ve got a natural touch.’

She smiled demurely. ‘I suppose I should be flattered. What now?’

He kissed her tenderly on the mouth, and brushed her hair with his fingertips, whispering, ‘Suck it. It likes to feel the heat of a woman’s mouth.’ He kissed her lips again and smiled. ‘When she wets it, it slides so easily between the lips of her cunt that it’s up to the hilt before she realises it’s in.’ His tone was so romantic it took the edge off the graphic reality of his words. But the reality set her senses alight all the same. Immediately, her body conjured up the feelings of what it would be like as the whole nine inches slipped inside her.