The Parlour (VDB #1) (16 page)

“You have no clothes, my dear. How would you not know what to wear?” he eventually replied, blowing out some smoke and stabbing his cigarette into the ashtray beside him.

“Well, I thought maybe you’d have some trousers and a shirt I could… It doesn’t matter. It was a silly idea. You’re too tall anyway.”

“I’m too tall? How short would you prefer I was?”

“No, you’re not too... I mean you’re fine, perfect. It’s just that…” He raised a brow and smirked at her babbling. It was quite adorable really. “You know what I mean. I was looking through your clothes, and they’re too big for me. You’re too big.”

“Too big and too tall. This list of grievances is becoming exhaustive.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll shut up,” she said, fidgeting with her robe and trying to cover her knees. “You do have some very nice clothes, though. Do you have them made for you?”

“I do,” he replied, leaning forward to pour her a cup of coffee. “I trust you slept well?”

“I did, thank you. I feel very well rested, and not in too much pain. What can I do for you today?”

“Have some coffee and we’ll discuss it.”

“Okay,” she replied, reaching for the cup.

“You forgot your cream, my dear,” he said, pushing the pot at her.

“I don’t take cream. I have milk.”

“You will take this cream. You will pour it, stir it and then swallow it down your gullet.”

She picked the pot up and frowned at it

“What is it? It doesn’t look like cream?”

“It is my very own creation. I have been cooking it up for you all night. I believe the last time you tasted it you were panting around my cock, lapping at it like a bitch in heat.” Her eyes flew up to his in shock.

“You want me to put that in my coffee?”

“I want you to prove your loyalty to your word. I am tired of dealing with deceitful workers. I require trust and dependability.”

“And by swallowing your come in my coffee, I’m proving that? Really? That’s hardly an arduous task. I seem to like your come down my throat, as proved by the fact that I did it ten minutes after we met, which you reminded me of only yesterday. Please tell me there is something more intelligent than that in your brain,” she replied, screwing the top off and spooning the liquid into her drink. She stirred and took a small sip to test it. “It actually does the job quite well.” If he wasn’t so amused by her answer, he may have gaped as she sipped again and held the cup tightly in her hands. She was most definitely going to be an interesting experience. “If you want me to prove that you can trust me, give me access to all these files and let me run your business more efficiently. I’m tactical in legal manoeuvring, I have huge experience in managing complex structuring, and I can outperform just about anyone when it comes to research. I’m a smart cookie. Use that if you want a declaration of trust. Swallowing your come is easy in comparison.” She took another mouthful of her coffee and swallowed loudly, then licked her lips for added effect. It worked. His cock hardened almost instantly. Intelligent women were not rare in his world, but ones with no understanding of how they should behave were. He leant forward and clasped his hands to his lips as he studied her movements. She was less nervy now. There was no babbling coming from her mouth now she was discussing her element, which was very clearly business.

“My dear, you are near perfection. Would you like to walk with me?”

“Where? How is that helping me train? And, unless you missed the point of my earlier statement, I still have no clothes,” she clipped, raising an authoritative brow at him and taking another sip of her coffee.

“Emanuelle will be back shortly with those, and you will learn a great deal if you are prepared to listen, my dear. By the time we return, you should be fully versed in my world and have the full vocabulary firmly imprinted. I will not have you accosted again because you are so unfamiliar with our ways. Tonight, you will work the club, and therefore will need to understand the rules.”

“Work the club? You don’t expect me to have sex with everyone, do you?”

“I expect you to do anything I ask of you, if you still desire your fifty thousand dollars, that is. Hmm? What will it be? The door is still over there.”

“Right.”

“Did you choose a safeword?”

“Yes, pickles.”

“Pickles?”

“I detest pickles, and I’m thinking that when I’m at a point that makes me want to hit you, I’ll remember how much I hate you, ergo, pickles.”

“You hate me? This is a strong word, my dear. Why would you hate someone who has offered you an option such as I have?”

“Pickles.”

“I asked you a question?”

“And I used my safeword, which means I don’t have to answer, right?”

“Yes. Although…”

“Pickles.”

“Are you going to say anything other than pickles?”

“Not on this matter, no. I’m here for a job, yes? None of which involves an emotional response to anything, including how I might feel about you. Train me, use me, and then let me go on my way, or back to Roxanne. As you say, fifty thousand is a lot of money. Can I suggest you get on with me earning it rather than concerning yourself with what might be going on in my mind? I’m not your concern regarding anything other than how to speak, act, and behave to get my month’s worth of work done.” He’d never been spoken to in such a way before. Where had she suddenly erupted from? Minx.

“Do you intend to be difficult constantly, or is this a calculated misjudgement on your part?”

She sighed and stood from the chair. He watched her as she wandered around the space with interest, fingering binders and folders and tutting to herself about something.

“Where’s the really interesting stuff?”

“What?”

“You can’t tell me that you run a place like this and do the things you do without having a thousand documents that need, shall we say, writing up delicately. That’s what I do, Pascal. All this bending over and being spanked is easy, and I’m sure I’ll learn all about your world in the space of a few days. Who knows? I might even learn to enjoy it, but what I’m really good at is dealing with things that need thorough examination. I can assume that a man like yourself needs thoroughly examining,” she said as she fiddled with the keypad on the safe that she had found behind the door. He stared at her collar bones and considered a thorough examination. Alexander should employ her thought process more readily. “Nice suit today, by the way. You look good in green.”

“Why thank you, I’m glad you approve. Do not call me Pascal again.” She chuckled.

“You’re welcome. Is it all in here, Sir?”

Having pondered her reaction to the fact that being spanked was easy, he wondered how bothered she might be by a more forceful interpretation of the word.

“Does the thought of undiluted pain not bother you in the slightest, my dear?” She turned and made her way back to the table, then sat herself on the desk in front of him. She twitched her lips in amusement at him for some inexplicable reason and then put her feet into his lap.

“The only real pain you can ever cause someone is emotional. And as I don’t intend to let you anywhere near my head, you’re not capable of that. You may be a big bad wolf with very sharp teeth, Sir, but I have a legal brain. It’s dispassionate about anything remotely linked to torment. I decipher analytics for a living. I shut out any emotional thoughts regarding the task at hand. If I need to take pain to achieve my goal then that’s what I’ll do.”

“Hmm. Stimulating indeed.”

“Very.”

“A winter hearted bitch.”

“For you, yes. Did you need something more?”

He did not need anything more than that. Never had he needed anything more than that. To take and use was exactly what he needed, regardless of the odd sentimentality that was intrinsically linked to his rose’s manipulation around his chest area. Alexander may have been a different matter, but Lilah was offering exactly what was required of her.

“The significant documents are in Rome, where they cannot be extracted without my irises,” he replied, snatching his hands away from her feet, which he had found himself rubbing for some extraordinary reason.

“Mmm. Shame. I’ll have to deal with unimportant shit then. You could keep doing that, you know. I really don’t mind. Not like it’s linked to my brain,” she said with a wide grin as she pushed her toes into his thigh and braced her hands on the table behind her with a sigh. The robe slipped from covering her legs and draped back towards her waist, exposing her entirely as she continued to pad her feet in his crotch.

He narrowed his eyes at her intelligent mouth and manoeuvrings. He should fuck her, immediately. Then beat her, or perhaps chain her somewhere until she got the point that she wasn’t in charge, and that she should have a little more respect for the Dominants she would have to play under. That thought sent an instant wave of irritation over his skin. Others? It was very clearly proved that no one else would be playing with Lilah James for quite some time when, beyond his control, his hands found her feet once more. He snatched them away again and fought the need to discipline her dramatically. For whatever reason, he enjoyed her mouth the way it was. Perhaps his time with Elizabeth had forged this need for a confident woman, someone he could discuss matters with other than Alexander. Play with. Or perhaps she was turning him soft, something that was entirely unacceptable.

“When were you last in Europe?”

“Five years ago,” she replied, moving her toes towards his stomach and rubbing them into his shirt. Irritation bit at him as he pictured all the other shirts ruined lately.

“This is Italian silk,” he snapped, assuming this would halt her progress. It didn’t.

“Mmm, it feels wonderful on my skin. Thank you.” His brow shot up at her complete disregard for the finery as she smiled again. Attempting banter with his mind was one thing. His clothes were quite another.

“Do you wish to be fucked?” Perhaps that would stop her.

“Mmm…That would be wonderful,” she mused, still rubbing her feet and relaxing more by the second. “You could do just about anything now and I’d more than likely beg for it. Is this normal around you? Roxanne said it was, Vixon too.” His cock deflated the moment his wife was mentioned.

“It is entirely normal for women to throw themselves at me, often.”

“Not surprising,” she said as she closed her eyes and tipped her head back. “You have this thing you do with your body. You glide. It’s quite ethereal really. I bet when you fuck it’s extraordinary. Do you talk all the time you’re doing it? Your voice is astounding.”

“In several languages.”

“Mmm… Use Italian. I understand that one.”

He’d use several expletives in several languages the moment he felt he was in control of the woman who was currently completely in charge of this situation. He pushed her feet from his lap and stood immediately. A walk – he should go for a walk, probably without Lilah James. Unfortunately, the thought disturbed him and he found himself glancing at her wrist and pondering the possibility of some diamonds on it, just to prove she wasn’t to be touched. Obviously, it would be for her benefit, not his. Again, this caused him to huff out an irritated breath to himself and circumnavigate the space away from her.

“Where is Emanuelle?” he snapped to no one in particular.

“How would I know?” she said smoothly, swinging her body around on the desk to face him. She closed the front of her robe again and slid her frame down to the floor, then crossed the space toward him. As much as he tried to avoid looking at her, he couldn’t help but watch the swing of her hips as she silently covered the ground, or the sway of her deep brown hair gently caressing the sides of her sharp features. She was entirely captivating and irritatingly appealing. “Why are you annoyed with yourself?”

“I am not. I am in fine fettle. I am simply considering why your clothes are not yet here.”

“Oh, and here I was thinking you were wound up about something.”

“I do not get
wound up
for any reason, other than him on occasion. You do yourself a disservice by presuming to know that which you do not,” he replied, flicking the contradicting thought away with his hand and reaching to pour another coffee.

“Why are you clenching your fist then?”

“I am n –” He looked at his other hand reaching for the cream and chuckled. He most definitely was. The woman was far too intelligent, and he should dispense with her services forthwith. Which he most definitely would. The moment he fucked her, and let her organise his business more successfully. He eased open his hand and poured the cream into lukewarm coffee.

“Why do you need pain? From him?”

He pulled in a breath and turn back to face her.

“Why do you ask so many questions of me?” Not that she had asked that many. It was more the fact that she asked the more emotional ones – the ones he did not quite understand the answers to himself. She took a step towards him and tilted her head.

“Why do you not like me asking them?”

“It is incessant, annoying.” She opened her mouth and abruptly closed it, then tilted her head the other way with a look of utter contempt radiating across her brow.