10 Shades of Seduction, Page 2

  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 set 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 stepp
ed 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.”

  Charlotte took a slow, deep breath.

  “Okay, I’ll stay for a few days. Maybe a month. I’ve been trying to take a vacation for two years.”

  Kingsley turned his head and smiled at her with a cocked eyebrow.

  “Ma chérie...this will be no vacation.”

  And then he laughed and something in that laugh caused her toes to curl and dig into the rug under her feet. The laugh rippled up her body and wrapped around her hips and dug like fingers into her stomach.

  “Right...” she said, suddenly very aware of her nakedness under the bathrobe. Knowing Kingsley still had the handcuffs on his wrists came as both a relief and a disappointment. “I should go and let you get to work, I guess.”

  Charlotte started for the door but stopped before she leaving.

  “I should probably take those off you,” she said, remembering the handcuffs.

  Gasping, Charlotte found herself with her back pressed to the door and Kingsley’s arms imprisoning her on either side. The handcuffs dangled impotently off his right wrist.

  “Pas de problème, Charlie. Anything that needs taking off...I will do it.”

  At first fear alone kept Charlotte frozen to the door. She sensed the iron strength in Kingsley’s arms, in his body, that had her trapped in place. Kingsley pushed forward until his hips pressed into her hips, his chest into her breasts, and the fear turned to another feeling equally powerful but no less terrifying.

  “Let me go,” she whispered.

  “Non. Not yet.” Kingsley caressed the right side of her face with his fingertips. “You’re here to learn. This is your first lesson. The man I’ll train you for enjoys games like this...games of passion and fear. He will want you ready for him always. In the middle of the night he might wake you with his hunger. He may find you reading in the evening and without a word take your book from you and your clothes. You will try to pass him in the hallway, and he will stop you with his arms, turn you around, press you to the wall and force himself inside you. Comprende?”

  Charlotte swallowed hard.

  “So this is the lesson? Learning to keep my mouth shut while he does whatever he wants to me?”

  Kingsley shook his head. He slid his hand from her face and down the front of her body. She inhaled as Kingsley cupped her left breast and gently kneaded her nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

  “The lesson is that you must learn to speak when he does something you do not want him to do. Do you know what a safe word is, Charlie? We use them in my world.”

  “No...” she breathed as liquid need began to gather in her hips.

  “It’s a word, any word, that the two parties involved agree upon. It is the word that you must use to stop whatever is happening to you that you don’t want.”

  “I can’t say no?”

  “No. For this man I will train you for,” Kingsley said as he moved his hand lower over her quivering stomach, “the word no gasped in fear, in protest, will only stoke his passion further. It is a game, you see. The more you resist the more he will desire you. Say ‘no’ and he will carry on. Say ‘stop’ and he will not stop. Say ‘don’t’ if you wish but he will do whatever he will do. Tell me to stop. I dare you.”

  Kingsley shifted his hand from her stomach to between her legs.

  “Stop it,” she whispered although she didn’t mean it.

  “Stop what? This?” Kingsley’s middle finger slipped inside her. Closing her eyes tight, Charlotte thrust her hips out and into Kingsley’s hand.

  “Yes,” she replied, panting the word. “Stop that.”

  “Should I stop this, too?” He pushed a second finger into her and began to move his hand, thrusting in and out of her with his fingers.

  Charlotte nodded, unable to speak from the sheer pleasure of his touch.

  She sensed Kingsley’s mouth at her ear.

  “Non,” he said again. “I’m enjoying myself too much to stop. You feel exquisite inside. So warm, so wet...did you know if you touch right here—” Kingsley twisted his hand and pressed the tip of his finger hard and deep into a spot one inch inside her “—I can feel your pulse?”

  “Kingsley...” His name was the only word Charlotte could push past her lips. He apparently took it as an encouragement because a third finger joined the second a
nd Charlotte had to open her legs wider to take it.

  “Now pretend for a moment that you aren’t actually enjoying this as much as we both know you are,” Kingsley said, making lazy circles with his hand inside her. “Shocking thought, oui?”

  “Oui,” Charlotte agreed. She truly couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt anything so erotic. The expertise of his technique, the pressure, the movements were beyond pleasurable, but far more so was the power of the man who held her pressed to the door and refused to let her go even as she said “no” and “stop” and “don’t.”

  “Let us say you really did want me to stop, but I love that word, love your protests, far too much to heed it. And we both know when you say ‘stop’ you don’t really mean it. Not with me. So you should have a word that truly means stop and to that alone will I listen. That is your safe word. Do you understand?”

  “I think so.” Charlotte grasped his left forearm and held onto him as she felt her climax building. Hung over...scared...in a stranger’s house...and yet she could scarcely breathe for her desire. “So what’s my safe word?”

  The muscles deep inside her tightened around Kingsley’s hand. She felt a rush of wetness between her thighs.

  “As you are my little redheaded fire-breather, your safe word should be ‘dragon.’ You must say it whenever you truly wish me to stop whatever I’m doing. No other word, no amount of struggling will do it.”

  Charlotte’s breathing turned hard and heavy as Kingsley’s hand moved faster and deeper into her. His thumb massaged her clitoris. Never before had she been with a man who knew how to manipulate a woman’s body so well.

  With his lips Kingsley traced a path from Charlotte’s ear to her shoulder. Charlotte dug her fingernails into the fabric of his jacket.

  “So if you truly wish me to stop what I’m doing, Charlie, you will say...?”

  “Dragon.”

  Kingsley pulled his hand abruptly out of her body and took a step back. Charlotte nearly collapsed from the sudden shock of his departure as her vaginal muscles fluttered in protest.

  “C’est ça,” Kingsley said. “It’s like magic.”

  Kingsley stepped forward, took her hand and kissed the back of it.