AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You don’t believe me?” She pants and it looks as if her own reaction’s making her angry. I love the sensation of having her trapped like this. Her hands and feet shackled, my body cornering her. With strong, patient hands I massage her most sensitive spots and I feel her body tensing with need, with heat, and a desire for more.
“Nah.” I slip my fingers inside her pussy one by one. Immediately, a deliciously dirty moan falls from her lips as her eyes widen in surprise.
“That’s it, sugar. You feel so tight, so good. I love how you stretch all around my fingers.” My cock throbs inside my jeans and I need to fight the urge to pump myself. No. I’m enjoying this way too much, I’ll deal with my cock later.
“Please,” she begs, voice panting, eyes darkened with lust. “Mon Dieu—” Again she pulls on the chain and I watch how she’s losing the battle. It nearly makes me forget that all this is just a game. I take out my fingers and suck them in my mouth, moaning as I swirl my tongue around them.
“Hm, you taste so good.” I slide them back into her wet pussy, picking up the pace, brushing over her clit a little faster each time.
“Sshh, breathe in, breathe out. That’s it, you’re doing good, baby.” Her body starts to tremble as I hit her sensitive spots. My other hand massages her ass cheeks, slowly and attentively. Both hands pick up the same rhythm, rubbing faster and more compelling.
“Oh my God,” she gasps. She pulls on the chain again, but the movement lacks decisiveness this time. She blinks at me, and again. Her dark eyes sparkle with lust, her mouth half open.
“Yes baby, hmm yes, just like that. Come for me.” And then I watch as her entire body trembles and the orgasm hits her like a train. Her eyes flutter closed as her body goes limp again, a satisfied curl on her lips. I take her head in my arms and brush a kiss on her hair and we sit like this until I hear her breath become stable and relaxed. The sleeping pills have kicked in and when I’m sure she’s fast asleep I pull out my phone to instruct Samuel to take her back to the hotel.
CHAPTERSIX
SATURDAY MORNING - ANGÉLIQUE
Iwake up with a blank stare and a mild dizziness. Where the hell am I? I let my eyes roam around from the comfortable, fluffy bed I’m buried in. Thick, cream-colored curtains hang in front of the windows to keep out the rays of light, though it peeks through a little bit in the middle where the cream material meets. The bedside lamp gives off a dim light and I realize that I am in a hotel room. A desk with a minibar underneath, an uncomfortable-looking desk chair over which my coat is draped. I glance underneath my blanket only to see I’m still wearing the familiar dark blue dress. My red suitcase stands in the corner between the desk and the open bathroom door. I roll onto my side and find my charger and phone on the bedside table.
7:50 a.m.
It’s still early. I rub my eyes as my brain races, flicking through the pages of my memory like a thick, old book from the library. However, the pages come up empty. I don’t have the faintest idea when I checked in, how I’ve even crawled into bed. Why have I closed my suitcase after taking out my phone charger? And why am I not wearing my pajamas? I stretch my legs and after mentally preparing myself, pull off the blanket and get out of the divine bed. I go to the window and open the curtains. The cacophony of traffic and bustling people makes me gape in surprise.
New York.
I walk back to the bed, to my phone, and scroll through my messages. Of course, I took the plane yesterday. Memories come like shards scratching into my memory.
The ladies' weekend.
A sense of excitement sweeps through my body, and I pick up the suitcase, throw it on my bed and click it open.
I instantly recognize my neatly folded clothes and Bible that are tucked into the side. The photo, however, placed on top of my belongings, doesn’t ring any bells. It’s an image of a painting of the Eiffel Tower. I pick it up and stare at it. A beautiful palette of different colors—tones of black, white, and grey—giving the whole thing a nostalgic feeling. I’ve visited the Eiffel Tower before, so the artwork shouldn't have any effect on me. Yet strangely enough, it does. I run my fingers over the photo. I’ve seen this painting before. As soon as realization hits, my mind’s brought back to last night. To the man.Thatman.
Mon Dieu, I was in chains, pinned to the wall of his house. The painting, the wine. Did I get drunk? That’s not like me at all. Slowly but steadily, pieces of my memory begin to unblur and I feel my body more flushed with every single memory of the acts that reveal last night’s events.
In a desperate need to distract myself, I go to the bathroom. But even moments later, under the delicious hot jets of the shower, I’m still feeling flustered. No one has ever touched me before like he has. The memory makes my body feel even hotter. Sure, I’ve shared kisses, a few times even. But they’ve been insignificant compared to the way this man’s mouth lavished mine. Everything about the memory’s bad and screams non-consensual. However, just the thought of it makes my knees buckle and my body stir with need. Oh yes, it definitely was consensual. The guy was hot as hell, with bright piercing blue eyes, lush lips, thick, dark hair. And those fingers….
A giggle escapes my mouth. And another one. And then I’m hiccupping with laughter, uncontrollably, until tears are streaming down my face and my body is shaking like hell. Oh my God. I was wishing for something exciting to happen this weekend, but nothing like this…. No, I didn't quite anticipate a hot stranger who’s more suitable for a porn movie. Well, he’s certainly baptized my weekend.
My dirty, little secret.
I step out of the steamy shower, dry off my body with one of the soft towels and put on a dark green velvet blouse over a pair of black pants. I blow-dry my hair, run some product through it and brush some gloss over my lips. I softly press a kiss to the cross on my neck as I’m getting myself ready to meet the others in the downstairs restaurant. My girlfriends.Thereason I’m in New York. Theonlyreason. Full stop. A nervous flutter runs through my belly. I’m excited to meet them. But something about last night makes me feel tickly as well. It makes me feelsexy. I know that’s wrong, on so many levels, but it does. And I won’t tell anyone.
After one last look in the mirror, I put on my coat, grab my handbag and allow my fingers to linger briefly on the picture. Then I turn it over and my smile freezes. Written in firm, black handwriting I read:
Barely an hour later, I’m sitting at a cozy table with the girls in the lounge of our hotel in SoHo. They were all already in the lobby by the time I walked in.
“Please pinch me, because I still have the impression that I’m dreaming.” Prue looks around the table and lets out a content sigh. “I cannot believe that you all came over. This is like a dream come true. Honestly.”
Monika, who’s flown in from her home city of Berlin, pinches her in the waist, causing Prue to shriek and jump in her seat with a bark of laughter. “Nope, you’re not dreaming.” She turns her gaze to Emma, who’s sitting at her other side, and gives her the same treatment. “Just in case you were wondering.”
“Bloody hell!” The British woman jumps and bats her hand away, though she’s got a huge smile on her face. When I catch Monika’s gaze from across the table, I hold up my hands in mock defeat. “It’s okay, I believe you.” We’re all wearing that same goofy glow on our faces, which warms me to the core. Monika brushes a hand through her blonde hair. “Good, because really, the eighteen-hour journey was all too real for me.”
Prue’s right though. It’s a miracle that we’re all here; four strangers in New York. Four women who’ve never met before. Four women who don’t have much in common. In fact, so far, we’ve only come across one thing: we all want to be happier in life. Which is one hell of a thing to have in common, if you think about it.
“Well, you ain’t seen nothing yet ladies. You better buckle up and enjoy the ride.” While Prue’s rummaging through her bag and Monika tries to get the waiter’s attention, I take in our surroundings. I’ve never been so nervous before, unsettled really. The lobby feels strangelyblank, as if I’ve never seen it before in my life. But I have, because snapshots of two men carrying me through the lobby and into my hotel room torment me. Ironically, the one thing that terrified me most before setting foot on American soil, turned out to be crazily simple. These girls are everything I hoped for. We’re going to have such a blast.
