Submit to Desire (2 page)

“Hypocrite.” She nodded at his cocktail and tried to ignore how
desirable he looked in his embroidered vest with his crisp white shirtsleeves
rolled up to reveal muscular forearms and wrists.

“Everything in moderation,
ma
chérie
. Except orgasms. Have a seat.”

She didn’t see anywhere to sit other than the bed and not
wanting to seem too eager she sat on the floor. Kingsley gave her a strange look
as she waited at his feet—a look both hungry and self-congratulatory.

Kingsley pulled out a sleek black cell phone. In rapid French
he poured out what sounded like instructions and hung up.

“Pancakes forthcoming. Now this is all very interesting.” He
flipped another page in the file. “You had a four-point-oh at NYU before you
dropped out your freshman year.
Pourquoi?
”

Charlotte sat up straighter.

“That file’s about me?” she demanded.

“
Oui
. While I was waiting for you
emerge from your Amaretto-sour coma, I had my secretary cull your records. You
are a fascinating woman, Charlie.”

“And you’re such an asshole. I can’t believe you’re digging
around my past.”

“I intend to fuck you blind before you leave my home, Charlie.
Is penetrating your past more intimate than penetrating your body?”

Charlotte closed her mouth and sat blushing on the floor as
visions of Kingsley on top of her, inside her, raced through her mind.

“I think so,” she finally answered.

“So do I, actually.”

“That’s a pretty old-fashioned view of sex,” she said.
“Especially for a pimp.”

“I am not a pimp. My employees do not sell sex. If I’m
anything, it would be an agent. Or—”

“A talent scout,” she finished. “Yeah, Steele told me. So were
you scouting for talent at the club last night?”

“I was. And found a fire-breather. Not a particularly useful
talent but certainly interesting. As is this—your mother, she died when you were
nineteen.”

Charlotte swallowed. “Car accident. That’s not interesting.
Just horrible.”

“Horrible, très. But you dropped out of school to raise your
younger brother—that is interesting.”

“Simon and my father do not get along. He was terrified at the
prospect of living with my dad. We got a sympathetic judge, thank God.”

Kingsley smiled at her over the top of his glasses.

“Your father is not a good man?”

Charlotte pulled the robe tighter around her. “He’s strict,
conservative. I stayed out an hour after curfew when I was sixteen. I was at the
movies with a girlfriend and we got ice cream after. He assumed the worst and
called me a slut, a whore, everything. He and mom divorced that year finally. I
couldn’t let Simon move in with him. Especially since—”

“Your brother is gay.”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“He interned with gay rights groups while in college and law
school. You dropped out of university and started working so your gay brother
wouldn’t have to live with your conservative father. That’s rather noble of you,
Charlie.”

Charlotte stared at the floor.

“My dad would have destroyed Simon. It wasn’t noble. It was my
only choice.”

“It wasn’t, but it’s quite telling that you think that. Let’s
see,” he said and flipped a few more pages. “You worked as a receptionist at a
salon after you quit school and apprenticed there. You were a cocktail waitress
at
Le Cirque de Nuit
a few nights a week as well.
Must have been before I bought the club. I would have remembered a
fire-breather.”

“You got much better tips if you could do a stunt. The
bartender there before Steele taught me the fire-breathing thing.”

“Your brother is in law school now. Full scholarship, I see.
There’s no reason you can’t go back to school.”

“I’m a little too old. Besides, I like working. I’ve been out
in the real world taking care of myself and Simon since I was nineteen. Don’t
think I can go back.”

Kingsley closed the file and leaned forward. He started to open
his mouth but a knock on the door interrupted.

“Entréz,”
he called out. The butler
entered carrying a breakfast tray. He sat it on the floor in front of Charlotte
and quickly departed.

“So now you’ve had your shower and you are currently having
your breakfast. Let’s discuss the business opportunity you’ve already said no
to.”

“Discuss away,” she said after her first delicious bite of
pancake. “But it’s still a no.”

“Understandable.” Kingsley stood up and removed his wire-rim
glasses. “I’ll talk. You eat.”

“Happily.”

Kingsley strolled leisurely about his bedroom.

“I told you I was no pimp and that’s true. There is a sexual
aspect to the work my employees do, but none of them have sexual intercourse for
money. At least not on my time clock. The clients we serve are an unusual lot
with unusual desires. If they wanted mere sex, they could get that from their
husbands and wives, boyfriends and girlfriends. What they want from us is more
complicated.”

“You’re talking about kink, right?”

Kingsley nodded. “
Oui
. Kink.
Bondage, domination and sadomasochism. I said I was a talent agent. It wouldn’t
be far off the mark to also call myself a matchmaker. I have clients with
specific desires, and I try to find a good match for those desires among my
coterie. I have a client now—a wealthy businessman, not unattractive—who has
found himself longing for a deeper connection than what he has experienced in
his recent short-lived relationships. He prefers a beautiful woman somewhere
between the age of twenty-five and thirty-five. No preference on race, height,
or religion. Strong preference on intelligence—i.e. she must have it. And she
must be very brave.”

At his last word he turned around and looked down at her.

“A woman who breathes fire while drunk and comes to my home
while sober is about as brave as this town has to offer. Wouldn’t you agree,
Charlie?”

Charlotte stared at him. She couldn’t believe what he was
asking her.

“Okay…I’m not saying yes or anything. I’m only asking out of
curiosity—what exactly would this whole arrangement entail?”

“This particular client enjoys S and M on occasion but is more
interested in absolute sexual dominance. He is particularly aroused by
fear.”

“So he’s a rapist?”

“Hardly. Dominants in the lifestyle, as we call it, find
submission erotic. Overpowering a woman and taking her by force is an act of
assault and violence. A dominant desires his submissive trust him enough to
allow him to take her even when she is afraid. Yes, he takes but she gives as
well. And you,
ma chérie,
have all the makings of a
world-class submissive.”

“This is bizarre.”

“Is it? Tell me, Charlie, those two blond Barbie dolls you were
with last night—that was Sasha Walsh and London Faber, yes?”

“Yes. We met at the salon. I cut their hair.”

“Their parents are worth roughly the state budget of Vermont.
They are vapid and dull and spoiled. They are your opposites. Why do you spend
time with them?”

“Rich people are easy to hang out with. They have all the
money. They make all the decisions.”

“And they left you alone passed out on the floor of my club.
Anything could have happened to you—you could have been robbed, assaulted,
raped…they are not your friends.”

“I know. That’s why I like hanging out with them. It’s easier
that way.”

“Easier to be with people who don’t care about you?”

“Easier to be with people I don’t have to care about. I
know—it’s stupid.”

“
Pas du tout
. It’s understandable.
Your mother died, you raised your brother and kept him safe from your
father….”

Charlotte toyed with the pancake left on her plate.

“Oui,”
she agreed.

“At a young age you had to take on enormous responsibilities.
What you must understand is that submissive women are not weak. They are often
much stronger than the men who dominate them. They have to be strong and brave
to submit without losing themselves. I believe you are both. And,” he said,
squatting down in front of her, “I think there’s a part of you that would very
much enjoy not being in control of everything for once.”

Charlotte looked up at him. No one that handsome should also be
that insightful.

“I’ve never done kink before,” she finally said.

“I can teach you everything you need to know.”

“You would teach me?”

Kingsley tapped her under her chin and grinned at her.
Something in his smile made her stomach clench. “Is that such a terrible
prospect?”

Charlotte stared at him. Never before had she seen a more
viscerally attractive man in her life. He seemed to read her reaction to him in
her eyes.

The sane rational part of Charlotte’s brain told her to get up
and get out. Unfortunately every other part of her body and mind overruled
her.

“Stand up,” Kingsley ordered and Charlotte came to her
feet.

He looked her up and down once before flashing her a dangerous
smile. Raising his hand, he caressed her lips with the soft pad of his thumb
while he reached out with his free hand and opened a drawer on the bedside
table. From it he pulled a pair of handcuffs.

“Hey, no way in Hell.” Charlotte took a quick step back.

Kingsley said nothing as he slapped the cuffs onto his own left
wrist.

“S’il vous plaît,”
he said and
turned around, indicating he wanted her to cuff his hands behind his back.

Charlotte took the cuffs in her hand and nervously clapped them
onto Kingsley’s other wrist.

He turned around to face her.

“Do you feel safe with me now?” he asked.

Slowly she nodded. What could he really do to her with his
hands cuffed, after all?

“Now,” he said, “drop the robe.”

Immediately Charlotte pulled the robe tighter around her
body.

“Charlie…take off the robe. Now.”

Something in Kingsley’s voice, some hard edge of authority,
spoke to something deep within her. Slowly she untied the cord and let the robe
fall to the floor. Kingsley ran his eyes up and down her body with an appraising
air as she stood naked and blushing before him.

He stepped forward and she fought the urge to step back.
Instead she stood her ground as he made a circuit around her body.

“You have exquisite breasts,” he said. “The perfect size to fit
in the palm of a large hand. I’m sure other lovers have told you that.”

One old boyfriend had said she had “great tits” but that had
been the extent of it.

“Not in so many words.”

“Pity. Also, lovely full hips. Well-rounded but with
definition. Oh,” he said pausing at her back. “You have a birthmark.”

Every muscle in Charlotte’s body tensed as Kingsley dropped to
his knees behind her.

“Just a little one.”

“It looks like—” Kingsley’s voice dropped to a low whisper
“—the Eiffel Tower.”

Charlotte laughed but the laugh turned to a gasp when
Kingsley’s lips touched the birthmark that graced the back of her left hip. The
heat from his mouth on her skin spread through her entire pelvic region and sunk
deep into her stomach. Just as the gasp started to turn to a low moan, Kingsley
stood back up again.

“Long legs but not excessively so. Not too thin. Beautiful
Celtic skin. Exquisite Roman nose.”

“Roman? Is that a synonym for hooked?”

“
Oui
. You, Charlie, will do
nicely.”

“Um…
merci?
” she said, remembering
one other French word.

“
De rien
. Now tell me…would you
care to stay with me? One month. Let me train you to be the perfect sexual
submissive.”

“I have a job, you know.” She grabbed the robe and pulled it
around her again.

“I’ll pay you twice what you made in your best month last year.
Cash. Of course.”

“Of course.” Charlotte swallowed. Good Lord, he really meant
it. This drop-dead gorgeous rich weird Frenchman wanted her to stay with him for
a month. And not just stay with him, he wanted to teach her how to submit
sexually to some rich client of his. Insanity. And yet, the thought of walking
away from this offer… No, not the offer, from Kingsley…

She couldn’t quite bring herself to walk away from
Kingsley.

“I’m not agreeing to anything,” she finally said. “I haven’t
even met this guy.”

“I won’t ask you to agree to anything until you meet him. Nor
will he agree to anything until he’s met you. We’ll spend the next few weeks in
training. When you’re ready, I’ll arrange a meeting. If you like each other and
decide to give a relationship a try, he’ll pay me my rather exorbitant finder’s
fee and you and he can work out whatever financial arrangement best suits you
both. Knowing him he’ll offer you a room in his rather impressive home and the
freedom to come and go as you please as long as you are at his disposal three to
five evenings a week. He’ll have a partner who is his sexual equal and you’ll
have someone who is quite happy to make most or all of the decisions so you, for
once in your life, won’t have to.”

“My feminist friends would kill me.”

“Those of us in the lifestyle are too busy having very good sex
to worry about the gender wars. True, most submissives are women and most
dominants are men. But I have several male submissives on my payroll, and I know
every dominatrix in this town. I assure you the vast majority of my clients are
men who want to be dominated by women. So you needn’t worry that you’re giving
up your right to vote or right to equal pay. You’re only giving up boring
vanilla sex, and I promise you, you won’t miss it. Say yes, Charlie. We know you
want to.”

“Okay…yes. Fine. I want to.”

“Beautiful, brave, and honest—I may have to keep you. You can
stay in the room next to mine. I’ll send my secretary to see you have everything
you need. In the meantime, I’m afraid I have to behave myself and get some
actual work done today.”