La Brat (7 page)

Aaron got out and came round to open the door for her. She exited the car and took the hand he offered her. He led her up a couple of stone steps to the front door and let them both in. Eugenie hardly had time to glance around the wide hallway before Aaron turned and pressed her face first against the door. He was not rough, but she knew she was not to move.

“Put your hands on the door and lean forward, arse out.” He sounded different, curt, commanding. She was fast coming to recognize his Dom voice and knew she would obey whenever she heard that tone.

She did as instructed, clenching her buttocks as he lifted her skirt up around her waist.

“Hard and fast first. Slow comes later.”

He didn’t wait for her to agree or to comment. Eugenie had no expectation that he would. In accepting his invitation to come here at all, she handed control to her Dom. She was in Aaron’s hands now and wanted to be nowhere else.

He parted her buttocks and slid his fingers along her exposed pussy lips. She was wet, had been since she’d first caught sight of him through the door entry CCTV at her apartment. He inserted one long finger into her and swirled it around. Eugenie gasped, clenching her inner muscles.

“So wet. You are one dirty little slut. You want me to fuck you?” The snap of foil punctuated his words.

“Sir, please, I do. Yes, yes, oh…” Her words ended on a moan as he drove his cock full-length inside her, his hands on her hips to hold her still. He withdrew and set up a rhythm of short, rapid thrusts that drove Eugenie wild. She squeezed her pussy around him, trying to grip, gyrating her hips in an attempt to intensify the friction.

He slapped her arse cheek, hard. “Keep still. I’ll tell you if I want you to move.”

Gasping, Eugenie managed to comply. Her arousal spiking fast, she knew her orgasm was not far away. Recalling the consequences of coming without permission, she groaned. She had to ask.

“Sir, I need…”

“You are to come. Do it now.”

Thank God. “Thank you, Sir. I…oh, oh…”

Aaron reached around to pinch her clit between his thumb and fingers and she was gone, convulsing in helpless delight as her body shook with the pleasure of what he was doing to her. He lengthened his thrusts, fucking her hard as he chased his own climax. Moments later, the heat of his semen warmed her inner space. He drove his cock deep and held still, his arm wrapped around her waist to prevent her from moving. Eugenie could feel her heart racing. She panted, acutely conscious of Aaron pressed up close to her back.

He slid his cock from her and lifted his hand to tangle it in her hair. He dragged her head back and around so he could meet her eyes. “Good start, ma petite coquine. Upstairs. Now.”

Eugenie spent the next two hours in Aaron’s bed, or perhaps more accurately spread across it, naked, her wrists and ankles strapped to the posts. She writhed and screamed. She shrieked, begged, pleaded, swore and begged some more as he clamped her nipples, slapped every inch of her body with a suede flogger, spread honey on her pussy lips and proceeded to lick it from her—sloppily. And all the while telling her what the consequences would be if she allowed herself to orgasm again. He pointed out that he’d been kind and considerate enough to take the edge off for her by the front door, but now she could fucking well wait.

And wait she did. For what seemed like hours, he teased and tormented her, playing with her body, bringing her again and again to the very brink of release then hauling her back from the edge. Eugenie wept, she growled her frustration, but he was unmoved, this Dom with iron will and vise-like control.

She’d almost resigned herself to a self-induced climax back at her apartment before he finally allowed her the orgasm she craved. And it rocked her world. The waiting sucked, but Christ, the rush of the eventual release. Eugenie was not sure if she might have passed out at one stage, the intensity of the sensation was so deep, so moving it overwhelmed her. Aaron was inside her, his cock filling and stretching her as the waves of her climax washed over her like a tsunami.

She needed to hold him. Intuitive, he released her hands at the exact right moment and she clung to him as though he were the only solid entity in a world of shifting vapor.

Afterward, he freed her ankles too, and they lay together on his bed, his arms around her as she snuggled in as close as she could get without actually being a part of him. He murmured sweet, reassuring nonsense into her hair, and she knew a bone-deep sense of wellbeing.

That first day at his house set the pattern. They would go out, usually to eat, occasionally to see a film or to the theater then back to his home or sometimes hers for hours of sensual play. They occasionally went to clubs together, fetish clubs like The Basement, where he insisted she wear a collar for the evening to mark her as his.

He hurt her, he spanked her, and she loved it. He whipped her breasts and she begged for more. He clamped her nipples then teased them with ice or hot wax until she pleaded with him never to stop. Aaron tapped reserves of sensuality Eugenie had no inkling she even possessed. He found them all with his voice, his touch, his wicked imagination. At a word, a look, a tilt of his eyebrow, she dropped to her knees at his feet. She was his, utterly.

She’d known, she supposed, that he met needs of hers that went far beyond the sensual. Eugenie was ambitious, driven in her work as well as her personal life. She often came home exhausted, her head buzzing with tomorrow’s issues, problems she had to solve, obstacles to find ways around, difficult people or situations she somehow had to manage. She had lain awake on occasions planning, analyzing and, as often as not, just plain worrying.

Aaron put a stop to that with his hands, his flogger and occasionally his whip across her shoulders. Each shuddering climax, each screaming orgasm was a release of her pressure valve, as though he’d unscrewed her lid to allow her inner tensions to fizzle out and cascade harmlessly away. He relaxed her. He grounded her. He kept her sane.

He, too, had a stressful job. He was a police officer, a chief inspector no less. She’d been astonished at that when he’d first told her. He couldn’t be more than thirty-two. How had he reached such an exalted rank so quickly? Aaron explained to her that he was in fact thirty-four and went on to fill her in on the police graduate entry system and the accelerated promotion it offered. He had a degree in international law and he’d joined the police straight from university. He was an inspector by the time he was thirty and had just been promoted again. It seemed he was destined for great things.

And still he had time for her.

Eugenie’s feelings were hopelessly conflicted as far as Aaron was concerned. At the time, she just felt confused as she hurtled from the heady extremes of passion to the bitter resentment of his discipline.

He was exacting and quite implacable on some things. He insisted on punctuality and the courteous obedience that was the hallmark of a D/s relationship. Without fail, she called him Sir in private—several severe spankings had drilled that into her. She would strip and kneel on command—no argument there. When they were together, he expected her to slip into the submissive mindset, and she invariably did. She had only to step through his door or slide into his car, and her mind shifted into that space where she could do anything—would do anything—he commanded. Pleasing him became all-important. She craved his approval.

In fairness, while she would have willingly allowed her life to revolve around him, he was considerate of her wider responsibilities. He knew her work meant a lot to her, he never expected her to compromise on that. He encouraged her to prioritize her career when she needed to, which might mean days spent away from him on training courses or at conferences. He wanted her to socialize with others, to spend time with friends and colleagues as well as with him. He accompanied her to corporate events on occasion and was able to blend in seamlessly. She knew he cut an impressive figure and that did her embryonic career no harm at all. She appreciated him at the same time that she resented his easy charm around others, which contrasted so sharply with the stern demeanor that he reserved just for her.

His own job meant he kept erratic hours, often working nights and weekends. His routine was unpredictable, and he often had to contact her to reschedule their time together if some emergency called him away. He headed up the Special Operations division, which meant he was in charge of the police dog handling section, underwater search and rescue, the helicopter and the mounted section. He laughingly referred to his domain as the police equivalent of Toys R Us, but the work he was involved in was deadly serious. His teams were called out whenever a child went missing or a body needed to be recovered. He dealt with major crowd control incidents and natural disasters. Eugenie was in awe of him for more reasons than just his whip hand.

His relaxed approach and natural confidence meant that he could hardly be described as possessive but even that wasn’t enough. She wanted to be possessed, she wanted to feel he cared, that he craved her even a fraction as much as she lusted after him. His control irritated her. His unflappable calm perplexed her. He could make her scream, whereas she couldn’t seem to ruffle his composure at all.

She started to act up, just to get a rise from him. She would arrive late, having spent ten minutes sitting in her car outside his house. He’d know—he had eyes and windows. Occasionally, he’d spank her for it, but usually he didn’t, as he knew that was what she was wanting. He wouldn’t be manipulated.

She might drink too much on her occasional nights out with her friends, despite his clear instructions that she not do that. Afterward, he always asked her, and she always told him the truth. Then he did spank her, hard. Her personal safety was important to him. He wouldn’t compromise that or permit such carelessness from her. On one occasion, she drove home after four glasses of wine. Of course, she confessed to it, and he was livid. He made her wait for nearly thirty-six hours until his anger cooled sufficiently before he was prepared to lay a hand on her. Then he bent her over a chair, tied her in place and thrashed her naked bottom with his belt while she screamed and writhed and begged him to stop. He did stop, eventually. Eugenie was uncertain as to whether she’d ever be able to sit again. Her ass felt to be on fire, her every muscle stiff from her desperate struggles and her throat ached from screaming. She hadn’t used her safe word, though.

Her face was wet with tears, and she shivered uncontrollably as he finally released her. Then he carried her to his bed and lay with her, holding her until she stopped crying and her body was still again. He laid her face down and massaged cream into her flaming buttocks, his fingers cool and gentle as they touched her tender skin. She apologized, cried some more and swore never to drink and drive again. He kissed her, then made slow, leisurely love to her. The matter was closed.

Eugenie knew she’d never drive after having so much as one glass of wine again.

Chapter Five

Now

Eugenie woke, feeling remarkably refreshed. She stretched and opened her eyes, blinking at the unfamiliar room that greeted her.

Totally Five Star Paris. She was here in a guest suite, enjoying the understated luxury as she prepared to be interviewed for the job of a lifetime. She sat up, planning her day even before she was fully awake. Shower, dress, breakfast, then perhaps spend an hour or two prowling the lounges and public areas. She could learn a lot from watching the other guests, listening, observing their reactions to the hotel, their needs, the attentive staff. She could use these remaining hours to deepen her understanding of how this place ticked, which would be all to the good later.

The afternoon she would spend back here in her room. Maybe she would shower again before dressing for the interview. She’d apply her makeup, subtle of course, since she was going for the natural look. She would arrange her hair in a neat, businesslike coil at the back of her head, fastened with a wooden claw she’d bought just for this occasion. She may have had only a few days’ notice, but she’d used the time well. Her planning had been meticulous.

She was realistic enough to know that she may not succeed today, that there might be other candidates more impressive than she. But Eugenie was determined that she would not look back on this and berate herself that there was anything more she could have done. She would review her notes then probably run through her presentation a couple more times in front of the mirror.

Practice makes perfect, and perfect was what might—just might—get her this job.

* * * *

At precisely three twenty-three, Eugenie presented herself at the entrance to the hotel’s executive management suite. The door was marked Staff Only with a button to gain admittance. She pressed and waited.

A buzzer sounded, followed by a smooth female voice. “
Bonjour, puis je vous aider
?”

“
Bonjour, madame. Je suis Eugenie d’André…”

“
Ah oui, nous vous entenderons. Entre, s’il vous plait
.”

The buzzer sounded again, followed by a quiet click. Eugenie pushed the door. It opened and she stepped inside.

She stood in an empty, carpeted corridor. Double doors ran all down one side. The other side sported a series of prints. She thought she recognized one or two of the artists, Lowry certainly, perhaps Monet. Constable’s The Hay Wain was unmistakable.

As she contemplated which direction to head in, a middle-aged woman appeared from a door about halfway down the hallway and bustled in her direction.

“Mademoiselle d’André, how nice to meet you.” She spoke in English so Eugenie answered in like manner, accepting the proffered hand for a brief shake.

“Thank you, it is lovely to be here.”

“You are welcome, very welcome. My name is Elise Rougin. I am the general manager here at the Totally Five Star Paris. I am chairing the interview panel today. I will introduce you to my colleagues in a few minutes, but first, may I offer you some refreshment?”