The Pleasures of Autumn (27 page)

She obeyed, but kept one knee drawn up, so that his view was obscured. He didn’t care, what he really wanted was to see her face. She flicked a finger across her clit, and flinched. She continued, her face set, but he could see it wasn’t working for her.

She spat out the chain. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t. I thought I could but …’

‘That’s okay. We’ll just do something else.’ He would have loved to have seen her pleasuring herself, but it
wasn’t going to happen. There were so many things he wanted to do to her, and he would. He made a silent vow that sooner or later, he would do everything his fertile imagination could conjure up.

He pulled her to her feet and picked up a small flogger. The handle was mahogany but the strands were rubber. He trailed the fine strands over her neck and she purred, pleased by their softness. Lowering it along her body, he used it to caress her before flicking it against her thigh. Now there was a hint of sting in it. She made a tiny sound but stood her ground, even when he repeated it a little harder.

‘Since you won’t play for me, you’ll have to amuse me some other way.’ He pulled the chair around so that the back of it was facing her. ‘Lean over that.’

Now her back was to him, and he whisked the little flogger up and down. ‘Legs apart,’ he told her. When she had shuffled her feet apart, he flicked it up between her legs. She gasped, but didn’t shift position. He did it again, and this time the sound she made was harsher.

He continued to flog up and down her back and legs, with occasional strokes between those luscious thighs. She moaned in protest, but her hips rocked back, seeking more.

His erection was like granite, harder than he could ever remember being, but he would not stop now.

He put his hand on her waist, holding her still. He didn’t want to make any mistake. He struck a little harder, faster. And her voice rose, building up to a peak. The scent of her arousal was rich and deep, intoxicating. He dragged it into his lungs.

‘Don’t forget you have to ask.’

She gasped, then found words. ‘Please, please, please.’

‘Yes, you may come.’

She panted, twisted into the path of the flogger, trembling as he pushed her harder. He struck a little harder, again, again, and he flicked the nipple clamp.

With a wail, she climaxed, her whole body shaking and trembling.

Niall couldn’t wait any longer. He grabbed a condom from the bowl beside the bed, rolled it on and got ready. He gripped her hips, took aim and thrust himself into her.

She was scalding hot and still throbbing. He plunged forwards, without finesse or grace, but he was too far gone to care. Thank god, so was she.

Sinead lunged back onto his cock, impaling herself and meeting him stroke for stroke, thrust for thrust. He held on to her even more tightly and rocked himself deeper into her. He could not wait and he didn’t want it to end.

His vision went as he finally gave in to his climax and ejaculated in an endless stream. His roar of release was echoed by her high-pitched wail as she joined him.

Niall’s legs were shaking almost as hard as Sinead herself when he picked her up and carried her to the bed. Tomorrow they would talk. Tomorrow.

Sinead struggled out from underneath the weight of Niall’s arm and went to the bathroom. The mirror revealed the worst excesses of the night before. The side of her neck was coloured with the rasp of his beard. A bruise had already appeared on her right breast. Between her thighs she ached with the sensations of a woman who had been well used and well loved.

She climbed into the bath and turned on the overhead shower, allowing the water to find the other aches and pains that he had inflicted. Niall was a Dom. Why hadn’t she seen that before? She must have been blind. His sheer size and power and the natural air of command should have been a clue. How on earth had she thought that she could get away with making him submit to her in front of a crowd?

Payback was a bitch.

His domination of her had been merciless. He had demanded her submission and she had given it willingly. Gloried in it. Even now she blushed at the memory of wearing his collar.

You cannot do this. It’s completely impossible.

Her aching body told her otherwise. Part of her wanted to crawl back into bed and never leave it. She had known he was dangerous from the first moment she set eyes on him, but just not how much. And what about Lottie? Why
hadn’t she told him the truth when she had the chance? How could she explain her alter ego to him? Niall Moore wasn’t the type of man who would let his woman perform naked on stage. He might enjoy watching, but she was willing to bet that he would never share his woman with anyone else.

You are in so much trouble.

She turned the water to cold, letting the icy pinpricks lash against her skin until she was shivering. Climbing out of the bath, she pulled an over-sized fluffy towel around her and used some of the scented moisturizer that matched the shower gel. Hermione obviously believed in spoiling her guests.

When she returned to the bedroom, Niall was still sleeping. She couldn’t wait for him to wake up and, besides, he probably needed to rest. She dressed quickly and hurried downstairs. Following the sounds of cutlery against china, she located the sunny breakfast room. Apart from an older woman who was feeding her ‘pet’ from her plate, Hermione was alone.

‘Come sit with me, Red. Isn’t it a wonderful morning?’

Sinead took the seat beside her and a waiter hurried to bring her coffee. She inhaled the aroma and sipped the strong liquid gratefully.

‘I see you had a good night.’ Hermione eyed the bruise on her neck with amusement.

‘Yes, he’s quite something when aroused.’ That was a serious understatement.

The waiter returned, carrying a basket of warm croissants and rolls. The scent made her mouth water. She tried to calculate how many calories she had used up the
night before. If the ache in her muscles was anything to go by, more than in a full stage performance.

‘Help yourself to breakfast.’ Hermione gestured to the side table where a selection of covered dishes awaited.

Sinead piled her plate with scrambled eggs and smoked salmon and returned to the table where Hermione was picking at a small dish of exotic fruits. She gazed enviously at Sinead’s plate and sighed. ‘Oh, to be twenty-five again.’

They ate in companionable silence, Hermione greeting her guests as they gradually arrived for breakfast. Some sported bruises that were not covered by clothing; most looked tired from their exertions of the night before. Memories rushed through her head: Niall spanking her, Niall pinning her down, Niall taking her as if he owned her, branding her with his mouth.

‘You got my email?’ Hermione’s question interrupted her reverie.

‘Which one?’ Sinead asked, startled.

‘The party on Tuesday at the St Pierre? Surely you haven’t forgotten? Mr Takahashi wants you to double-Domme him with Mimi. You agreed months ago.’

‘Sorry, it slipped my mind.’

Hermione gave her a puzzled look. ‘It’s 10k for a couple of hours’ work. Hardly to be sniffed at.’

‘Ten?’ Sinead almost spat out her coffee.

‘Each.’ Hermione snapped. ‘That was the fee agreed. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately. You used to be so organized.’

Christ!
Roisin wasn’t just into the BDSM scene. She was a high-class dominatrix.

‘I’m sorry, things have been a little difficult …’

Hermione’s suspicious expression softened. ‘I didn’t want to say last night, but you really should be careful. Falling in love with your submissive is never a good idea.’

In love? In love with Niall Moore? No, she couldn’t be. She wouldn’t.

‘I’ve seen it before. A possessive sub is almost impossible to control. Best to un-collar him, my dear. Several of the other mistresses have already expressed their interest in taking him on.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ Sinead agreed – anything to end this conversation. And she was still getting her head around the information that her sister was a professional Domme.

‘Mimi, darling.’ Hermione was distracted by Mimi and Frederic’s arrival and Sinead sighed with relief. She saw the opportunity to make her escape and wished them a polite good morning as she got up from the table. She was surprised by the change in Frederic. All the energy of the night before had disappeared and he looked like a different man. Before she could ask, Mimi rustled in her bag until she found a dark red card that she pressed into Sinead’s hand, saying that they really must see each other more often. And then she laughed, winked and said, ‘But I’m forgetting. I’ll see you Tuesday,
chérie
.’

Sinead did a double take. And then she remembered – they would be ‘working’ together.

With each step on the plush carpet her heart lightened. She knew how to find her sister. In a few days’ time, somehow, she would get her life back. Whatever this was with
Niall would have to end, but until then she would savour every second of it.

Niall struggled up from the depths of sleep. The combination of an intense scene, pain pills and a glass of wine had wiped him out, and he had slept until mid-morning. When he opened his eyes, the sun was high in the sky and he was starving.

Sinead was sitting on the other side of the room, reading her Kindle. He must have made a noise that disturbed her concentration. She raised her head and smiled at him.

She looked damn good. His cock rose in response.

He moved to throw back the covers and grunted as pain hit him from all directions. He flopped back into the soft bed before he gathered himself to move carefully. It took a good five minutes before he could get out of bed.

Sinead put down her Kindle. ‘You know,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘I think we should skip the entertainment today and the ball tonight.’

Niall itched to investigate everyone in the Château but had to admit she was right. He was definitely not back to full strength. And having Sinead here like this was not something he wanted to give up. ‘Maybe we’ll take it easy for a while. Get something to eat and enjoy the show.’

Grinning, she agreed, but couldn’t resist giving him a push back into the bed. ‘This is so tempting. I have you at my mercy.’ She climbed on top of him.

He gave her his best evil grin. ‘That’s what you think, little girl.’

She giggled as he proved her wrong …

It was lunchtime the next day when he got a chance to chat to the other guests. He dodged a well-known political figure and a television presenter, and headed for a familiar face. Frederic Killy. He was perusing the selection on the buffet, still wearing a collar and an outfit that consisted of little more than straps. He looked way too much at home in it. Hard to believe he was one of the most respected scientists in Europe.

He looked up with a smile when Niall approached. ‘Fantastic show you two put on the other night. You make an amazing pair.’

‘Thank you.’ Niall selected a devilled prawn and popped it into his mouth. ‘I can say the same for you and your lady.’ He deliberately kept his tone casual. Interrogation always went better when the subject didn’t know he was being questioned.

Frederic chuckled. ‘Go on, you can say it.’

‘How the fuck did you end up as a sub?’ Niall couldn’t get his head around that. He had worked with him.

The other man shrugged. ‘Just got lucky and met the amazing Ms Mimi.’ He picked up a snail and used a tiny fork to extract the garlicky meat. ‘I was always the top. I didn’t bottom even for a play session. But I met her and we were messing about, and one day she said, “Enough of this, bring me that paddle.” And that was that. Just like you and Red, eh?’

Niall paused with a prawn halfway to his mouth. ‘You know her?’

‘Well, sure. I met her here last year, when I was still a top. Even made a play for her, but she was in full Domme mode and wasn’t interested.’

‘You’re certain it was her?’

Frederic’s eyebrows lowered. ‘I’m hardly likely to mistake someone I got that close to. Even if she wasn’t famous on the scene as “
La Petite Anglaise Rousse
”, she’s very distinctive. How many women have hair and skin like that?’

‘Maybe she’s got an identical twin?’ Niall fought to keep his face politely interested.

Frederic laughed. ‘As if there could be two like her!’

Damn. Niall hadn’t realized how much he had been counting on people here confirming Sinead’s story. He didn’t give up, but circulated, asking casual questions and getting the same answer from everyone. Little Red was a well-known feature on the French scene. She had a reputation as a formidable Domme.

What the hell was going on? Despite everything, he had really hoped that they would get here and find Sinead’s twin. Or at least that he’d get to watch Sinead flounder as she was surrounded by some of the kinkiest people in Europe. After all, she was an innocent Irish girl who should be way out of her depth. Instead, she had slipped into place with ease, and everyone knew and accepted her as one of them.

He was a trained investigator. His instincts might scream that she was telling the truth, but the fact was that she was way too much at home here.

What was up with him? Sinead risked a sideways glance from beneath her lashes as Andy drove them to Gabriel’s home in Montparnasse. En route, they stopped so she could pick up pastries at Bogato and some fresh flowers.

Andy dropped them off and she announced herself at the intercom at the gate. It was buzzed open, and Niall closed it carefully behind them. The shiny new lock on the door was more evidence of improved security at the house. The downstairs shutters also looked as if they had been repaired.

Gabriel waited on the step. The bruises had faded a little, but the white dressing above his eye was stark against his tanned skin. Although she had seen him only a few days before, tears welled up in her eyes. She ran the last few steps and flung herself into his arms, kissing him on the mouth and cheeks.

‘Hey,’ he cautioned her.

Sinead pulled back. How had she forgotten his damaged ribs? ‘Did I hurt you?’

‘
Mais non
, but I’ve spent an age ironing this shirt. I don’t want you crying all over it.’

‘Idiot. I’ve a good mind to eat all the pastries myself. I hope you have coffee?’

‘For you, always.’ He winked at her. ‘Come inside.’ He hobbled into the hallway and through to the sitting room. A rumpled blanket and an open copy of
L’Équipe
lay on the sofa.

‘I’ll make the coffee. You rest.’

Gabriel looked as if he was about to protest but demurred gracefully. ‘You know where everything is.’

Niall followed her into the kitchen and watched as she found a glass vase for the flowers and set a tray with cups and plates while they waited for the water to boil.

‘Can you fetch me the ceramic jar from the top shelf?’

Niall took down the unmarked jar and she opened it and put some of the beans it contained into an electric grinder. Gabriel wouldn’t drink coffee unless it was freshly ground. He’d been disgusted by the horrible instant stuff they served in the theatre. She had almost converted him to tea.

‘You do know where everything is,’ Niall observed.

‘Of course I do, I’ve been here a lot.’ She regretted the words when she saw his mouth tighten. She had visited Gabriel’s home when Lottie was working in Paris, and had even stayed overnight sometimes, but she couldn’t tell him that.