TouchofaDom (7 page)

“No, I’ll be in Amsterdam ironing out the final details for
the exhibition. I’m a bit leery about their security arrangements. And I’m
taking Helen with me but haven’t mentioned it to her yet. The place is all
yours. If you want dinner, sort that out with the Rizzolis.”

“Thanks, boss.” Luc always liked that moniker.

“I’m assuming this is for our charming new cook’s
edification.”

“I though she might enjoy it.”

“Whilst you enjoy her, right? Go ahead. Enjoy her and the
weekend.”

“I expect to.”

“She’s eager, isn’t she?” Luc grinned. “She’s already
confirmed she had the weekend off. So enjoy yourselves. I’m glad things are
working out well.”

So was Branko.

But he rather wondered at Adele assuming they’d spend the
weekend together. On the other hand, why not? She was quite wonderful and he
would make darn sure she enjoyed every minute.

Luc and Helen were leaving Friday morning. Well and good,
he’d come in for lunch on Friday, have a nice heart-to-heart about her special
preferences, then whisk her off to Monaco to make her wishes come true and
enjoy her delectable body and sexy screams. Two days, that was all he, they, had
to wait. No problem there. A little abstinence only made the need stronger.

* * * * *

By Friday, when Helen and Luc left, Adele felt she was
getting into the routine of the household. A free weekend lay ahead. She needed
to prepare lunch for Branko since he was working but after that, her time was
her own.

In fact she was a trifle irked at Branko. After her second
attempt to talk to him had been brushed off for “later”, she decided she was
entitled to a minor snit. She was polite, cordial even to him but set her mind
on the coming weekend, not on what Branko wasn’t doing.

He surprised her Friday morning by suggesting he have lunch
in the kitchen. Helen frequented the kitchen, nipping in for coffee refills or
quick chats but never Branko, but since he asked… “Of course. Would an omelet
suit?”

He smiled his killer smile and she half-regretted that she
wasn’t staying in that evening, but night was the best time to try
Velours
Noir
again. “Perfect. Cheese?”

She made him an omelet with chives and fresh goat cheese and
served it with a green salad.

“Join me,” Branko insisted when he arrived for lunch, so she
made a second one and they sat down together.

It was vaguely domestic but felt oddly strange to be sitting
across the table when two days earlier she’d been over his lap getting spanked.
Especially considering they’d barely exchanged five words since.

Confusing was putting it mildly, but that was that. Now they
were face-to-face and seemed he was ready to talk.

“We need to compare our preferences,” he began.

Adele nodded. Hadn’t she been trying to do that for the past
forty-eight hours? “Good and yes. I’d be quite happy to get another spanking.
You are expert.”

She’d said the right thing there. He smiled. “I do my best
to please. What else do you enjoy? Bondage?”

“Yes, if I trust my Dominant. I don’t know you that well
yet.”

“Then I must earn your trust, Adele. I will.”

She hoped so. “What about you? What do you expect of me?”

“Your obedience, your submission to my will. That’s what
arouses and excites me. And I expect you to tell me if I go too far or impinge
on your limits.”

“Fair enough, I will. Will you tell me if my response is
what you expect? I don’t want to be punished unless I agree.”

“No? What if you deserve it?”

“This is about play and sex, not punishment.”

“But you submit to my discipline, or you did last time.”

“That’s because I wanted it.”

He grinned. “You did, didn’t you? What else would you like?
My belt? A cane? A flogger?”

“I’ve never had anything but hand spanking.”

“Really? Then let me introduce you to some delectable and
sensational instruments.”

Her throat tightened at the prospect. Was this really what
she wanted? Maybe. Perhaps. “One at a time. When I say so. And I have a
flogger.” Had that been wise to mention it?

“You have what?”

Given the light in his eyes she should, perhaps, have kept
that to herself. “Long story, I’ll tell you about it later.”

“When I’m ready to belabor your lovely body with it?”

“Before then.”

“We don’t have long. With Luc and Helen away, we have all
weekend to explore our preferences and desires and I have a surprise for you.”

“No.”

“What are you saying ‘no’ to?”

Talk about the horns of a dilemma. “Not this weekend,
Branko. I have the time off.”

“I know, that’s why I asked Luc if we could borrow his place
in Monaco. I thought you’d like seeing somewhere new.”

She would, or rather would have but… “Not this weekend,
Branko. I’m sorry but I have somewhere to go tonight and have more to do
Saturday.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just what I said. I’m busy this weekend.”

“But I planned this weekend for you.”

“Then you might have mentioned it before now instead of
announcing it at the last minute.” Should she change her plans? For two days
she’d yearned for this conversation. Had hoped for another session with him. But
darn it all, she did have plans and he was taking her for granted.

She’d let him spank her once and he acted as if he owned
her. “Perhaps another weekend?”

“The house may not be free another weekend.”

“Does it have to be in Monaco?” Did Luc really have a house
there too?

“It does and it should but since you are not available, I
will go on my own.” And with that, he stormed out.

Damn him and the horse he came in on. He
was
taking
her for granted. No two ways about it. Being nicely Dominant was all very well
and exciting but she was not here to come running when he crooked a little
finger. She had a life too. Well, a semi-life. But she did have something to do
this weekend and dammit, Branko was not ruining her plans.

Once evening came, Adele headed down the mountain and into
Nice to take a chance at
Velours Noir
again. Her mistake last time had
been trying to get into a nightclub during the day. Stupid of her really, but
now she would have better luck. There had to be a reason her mother had kept
that address all these years.

Walking up to the door last time in blue jeans probably
hadn’t helped either. Tonight she was wearing a long black dress and lacy shawl
and her hair hung loose around her shoulders. With luck the wizened door keeper
wouldn’t recognize her.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, a great long line of
hopeful partygoers waiting to get in? Red carpet? Mercedes dropping off
glamorous model types? Instead a small cluster of people waited at the door.

Adele joined the end of the queue just as an older couple
got in line behind her.

The first couple went in and then the next. They’d had no
trouble getting admitted. So far, so good.

It seemed the time of day had been her stumbling block
before. The final couple ahead exchanged words with the doorman and his burly
sidekick unhooked the velvet rope and let them in.

Adele took a deep breath and stepped up.

One look at her and the doorman shook his head. “Same answer
as last time, Duckie. Members only.”

Adele actually had her mouth open to argue when Branko put
his arm around her shoulders. “She’s with me, Arzhel.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” he asked, looking at Adele. “In you
both go then. Sorry about that, Monsieur Branko.”

“Not at all, Arzhel. It’s your job to be careful.”

They were inside and the door closed behind them before she
had a chance to ask Branko what the hell he was doing.

She got to that moments later.

“I’m getting you in here. Are you meeting someone? If so,
they did a damn poor job of explaining how this place works.”

“You seem to know.”

He grinned, a smug, self-satisfied, so full-of-himself grin.
“I do.” His hand in the small of her back propelled her to the right and a
small kiosk. He picked up two black velvet masks and handed her one. “You might
want to wear this. Most people do.”

So they went in masked. She understood why once they reached
the floor below.

Dungeon was the word, a vast space divided into several
areas. In one, a fair-haired man was strapped to a flogging bench and getting
well laid into by a tall, black-clothed woman. Soft but eerie music played.
Some stations were empty, others well occupied like the center stage where two
naked women were fastened to upright frames while a woman and man flogged them
alternately.

“Did you come to be a spectator or a participant?” Branko
asked, sounding a trifle piqued.

“Neither. I came to—” A scream from the corner interrupted
her. Branko waited, his hand still firmly in place in the small of her back.
She could move away from him, but did she want to? Having Branko at her side
would ensure she wasn’t approached by any hopeful would-be players but on the
other hand, maybe someone here might know something. Except she somehow doubted
casual conversation was uppermost on people’s minds.

“You came to do what?” Branko asked. “Get refused entrance
and end up at a loose end on a Friday night?”

“No.” This was becoming awkward but she owed him for getting
her in here. “Thanks for your help with that officious gnome at the door.”

“Arzhel? A gnome!” Why the hell did he have to have such a
sexy laugh? “Not a bad description but I wouldn’t say it to his face.” She had
no plans to. “But tell me, Adele, truly, why did you come? If you wanted this,
why not say so instead of turning me down flat?”

Had she actually done that? Yes. She had. “I’m sorry, I
would have liked to spend the weekend with you but I’d promised myself to…”

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

He was peeved. Understandable but still. “Branko, it’s not
straightforward.”

“I’d pretty much worked that out for myself. Do you want to
explain or not?”

Habit told her to refuse but deep inside she wanted to share
this with someone. “It’s complicated.”

“For God’s sake, Adele! I can’t hang around and be put off
like this. If you want to stay and play on your own, go ahead.” He turned to
leave but she grabbed his arm.

“No, I’ll tell you but not here.” Not with the
ever-increasing tempo of the floggers and now something far noisier starting up
in the far corner.

“Is this place a bit too much for you?”

She halfway deserved that and she did owe him for getting
her this far. “To talk, yes.”

“I can take care of that, come on.” He grabbed her hand.

At the far end of the room, another bouncer stood before a
dark curtain.

“Monsieur?” the bouncer asked.

Branko angled his head toward the curtain. “Do you have a
space for me, Jean?”

“For you, yes, of course, Monsieur.” He looked at a small
handheld computer. “Room six is free and ready.”

“Thank you, Jean.” And before she could ask the whys, hows
and wherefores, they were through the curtain and the door behind and into a
bright corridor with stairs going up in both directions. Branko obviously knew
where to go, so she followed him up the farthest staircase and down a hallway
past a couple of closed doors to one that stood ajar.

“It’s quiet here and we’ll be undisturbed,” Branko said, as
he closed the door and she looked around.

No mistaking what this room was for. There was a large bed
with brass head and foot rails and manacle hooks already attached for ease and
convenience, an upholstered chair, an assortment of toys and flagellation
instruments laid out on a table and, bang in the middle of the room, a large
whipping bench.

“We can play later if you like,” he said, “but first let’s
talk.”

She looked around for somewhere to sit. It was either the
bed, the single chair that was obviously not designed for comfort or
relaxation, or the bench. She settled for the bench.

“Want a drink?” Branko asked. “They do a pretty reasonable
champagne here.”

“Thanks, it might help.” But would one glass be enough?
She’d kept this bottled up inside for so long she wasn’t sure she could talk
about it. Why so hesitant? Looking for a father wasn’t that unusual a thing to
do. Not compared with some of the goings-on downstairs.

He bought her over a glass and propped himself at the other
end of the bed. “To secrets shared?” he asked and raised his glass.

She returned the toast and they both drank. Silence. It was
up to her. “What I’m about to tell you may sound silly.”

“Can’t be that silly if you were willing to forgo a weekend
of wild and wonderful sex with me to accomplish it.”

He had a point, aside from being so full of himself that she
had to smile.

“I’m looking for my father.” There, it was out, and she
hoped
Maman
wasn’t turning in her grave.

“You think he’s here? In this club? What’s his name?”

“His name is Jules Royer and as for being here, I found two
addresses in my mother’s papers after she died. Both in Nice. One was an
apartment building that has been completely renovated and was a dead end. The
other was here or this street address at least.”

“You expected him to be here?”

“I don’t know. It was all I had.”

“You want to find him?”

She nodded. “It sort of became a goal. After my mother died,
I had no one and my only clues were these addresses, so I applied for every
likely job I could find down here. I couldn’t believe my luck when I got hired
but I’m beginning to think I’m chasing after the impossible. For all I know
he’s as dead as my mother.”

His arm came around her shoulders. The sudden, kind touch had
her sniffing back tears.

“Need to cry?” Branko asked. “Scream, kick the walls, rail
to the heavens? You can do all or any of them, these rooms are soundproofed.”

She had to smile at that thought. “No, that would waste
energy. I had some silly dream that I’d walk in here, recognize him immediately
or find someone who remembered him and it would all be storybook perfect.
Stupid of me.”

“It’s not stupid to have dreams or hopes.”

“What about wishing for the impossible?”

“Impossible things happen. I met you.”

He wasn’t being flirty or flippant. He was serious. Or
seemed to be. “And I take you on a wild goose chase.”

“You could say that. I certainly wasn’t expecting you’d come
here.”

“Thanks for getting me in anyway.”

“My pleasure. I’d suggest we stay for a pleasant encounter
but perhaps you’re not so inclined?”

In her mind, no. She’d dedicated the evening—the weekend,
come to that—to her search but now she was sitting thigh to thigh with Branko,
her shoulder brushing against his arm. “I shouldn’t let myself get distracted
by you.”

“Why not? Do you plan to keep on searching? Are you going to
ask everyone here if they know your father?”

“Not everyone but surely the man at the door might know, or
there must be a manager or someone like that.” Did she sound as desperate to
him as she did to herself?

“Best not ask Arzhel when he’s working. I’ll ask him
tomorrow, if you like. I can also have a word with Stephane, he’s what you
could call a manager. They’ve both been here for years. If you father ever was
here, they might remember.”

“If you could ask, I’ve be so grateful.”

“How grateful?” he asked.

She looked at Branko. Just meeting his eyes, feeling his
thigh against hers and his arm around her shoulders stirred her need and
brought back vivid memories of the night in her sitting room.

Her breasts ached but she reminded herself why she was
really here. “Promise me you will ask them.”

“You have my word, Adele. I wouldn’t lie about this, nor
would I make that sort of promise just to get you naked and helpless.”

“Who says I’m going to be naked and helpless?”

“I do and, most of all, so do you. You want that, don’t you,
my dear?”

He was right. She was in need and he could ease that need.
She reached out for his hand and he grasped hers. “I want to find him, Branko.
Or at least know if he’s alive or dead. And I want to know why he left us.”

“I will do everything in my power to see that happens,
Adele. Luc has resources and contacts that can help us too. Together we can do
more than you can on your own.”

She didn’t doubt it. “Branko, I hate to pile my worries on
you.”

“My dear, what I can do, I will do. It will be my pleasure.”

She leaned into him, feeling his strength and the hastening
of his heartbeat. “I’m glad I came here and met you.”

“Glad enough to play?”

This was not how she’d planned the evening or the weekend
but she trusted his word that he’d help, and she wanted him, wanted the
security of putting him in charge. She lowered her eyes. “How do you want to
play?”

She could picture his face with a wide, sexy smile of triumph.
She had agreed to submit to him and he would play her body for their mutual
joy.

“Get off the bench and sit at my feet and I will tell you.”

She was at his feet in an instant, resting her head against
his knee as he stroked her hair. “Good girl, now listen carefully. I will tell
you what I plan. You agree or refuse. If you refuse, we negotiate something
else, understood?”

“Yes, Branko, but…”

“No ‘buts’ yet. Listen. I remember what you said about
bondage and about belts. I will do nothing you don’t agree to in advance. Is
that okay with you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, Adele, we will stay here, in this room. When I
finish, you will stand in front of me and strip naked while I watch. Once you
are naked, I will examine you. You will permit me to and make no attempt to
resist my inspection. I will not hurt you. When I am satisfied, you will kneel
at my feet and fellate me. I will spank you a little, since you need that so
very much and because you caused me so much anxiety. I want to tie you to the
bed. Will you concede me this?”

Adele shut her eyes to think. Would she? She hardly knew
him. Could she trust him that much? She was alone with him, in a room that was
soundproofed. Once he made her helpless, he could do anything he wanted. But
he’d promised that it would only be what she agreed to. Did she trust him?
Damn, he was the only living person who knew about her father and her search.
She’d felt safe enough to share that.

“Being helpless scares me, Branko.”

He caressed the back of her neck. “A little fear excites, my
dear. Will you do this for me? Let me make you helpless before I fuck you? You
will not regret it and if you like we can have a safeword. I will respect that
if you say it.”

She was already alone with him in a closed room over a kinky
dungeon. A step further wouldn’t hurt. Or rather it might hurt but it would be
wonderful. “Yes, then I agree.”

His hand went motionless and she’d swear his heart beat
faster and louder in the quiet. “What safeword?”

“My name, Adele Royer.”

“Good. So you agree to let me tie your arms down?”

“I do.” Her throat was dry but she got the words out.

“And then do I have your permission, when and how it pleases
me, to take your legs, put straps around your ankles and spread-eagle you and
tie down your legs, so you will be open, exposed and available to me and unable
to resist me, whatever I may choose to inflict on you?”

He had some way with words. She had to take a breath to be
able to reply. “Yes, Branko, you have my permission to do all that.”

“Are you aroused by my talking to you like this?”

Who was he kidding? “Yes, my nipples hurt and…”

“And what, Adele?”

“I’m aroused. I’m wet.”

“Wet? Without my permission? Oh Adele, that does deserve a
spanking. And you will get one very soon.”