“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
She looked down at her perfect pantsuit. “I’m wearing cashmere!”
“I don’t care.” Even as he spoke, he slowly drew the belt out of its loops. “Get down.” After a moment’s thought, he added, “If you know what’s good for you.”
Sienna must have known what was good for her, because slowly, she got to her knees on the plush carpet, eyes flashing at him as she did so.
In truth, he did feel alittlesorry for her cashmere.
He could have continued playing this game of giving her orders and telling her what to do, but as her small, soft, deft hands reached for him, slipping into the fold of his fly, he realized that he didn’t have to.
It was as if Sienna, out of an innate stubbornness, had decided that she’d rather die than allow him to take charge, and was taking charge herself.
Which turned him on to no end.
When she took him into her mouth, he cursed himself for not starting this game in a sitting position, because immediately his legs went weak. He could have sworn he heard her chuckle, despite the fact that her mouth was gloriously full.
She worked on him with a vengeance, mouth wet and hot, shielding her teeth one moment and then allowing them to scrape at his delicate skin the next, as if trying to keep him off balance, to use pain as an instrument of pleasure.
“Sienna, please.” He wasn’t sure if he was begging her to stop or to continue. He was just aware that he was begging, and that meant she was winning.
His excitement mounted so fast that he knew he had to do something, anything, to take his mind off the explosion that threatened, lest she mock him again about the folly of expending his ‘energies’.
He began to recite in his mind the kings of France, and their houses, backwards, starting with Louis the Sixteenth, who had lost his head to an unruly mob. When he had worked his way back to Charles the Second, in the ninth century, he switched to enumerating the arrondissements of Paris, moving clockwise.
And still, Sienna persisted in her attempts to murder him.
Eventually, he cried Uncle, pulling away, staggering back and onto the bed. She followed him, face split in a wretched, triumphant grin. “Oh? Is my apology not adequate?”
Maxim wanted to say something offhand, or cool, or snide, anything that wouldn’t make him sound like the quivering wreck she’d turned him into, but not enough of his brain cells were firing. He watched in awe as she stripped out of the cashmere suit—which looked surprisingly none the worse for wear—and then removed her panties.
Hooking them on one curved fingertip, she dangled it before him. “If I remember correctly, you stole the last one of these you removed from me.”
His body began to heat up all over again. “It’s now become one of my most treasured possessions.”
“Well,” she said, grinning as she straddled him, delicately draping the panties across his eyes as a poor excuse for a blindfold. He felt her settle over him, wrap herself around him, and begin to move. “If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll let you take this pair home as well.”
He promised to be a very,verygood boy.
∞∞∞
By the time they were ready to eat, the hotel’s kitchen was already closed, but Max managed to sweet-talk one of the kitchen attendants into sending up a platter of cold cuts, cheeses, crackers and wine. It was as good as a feast.
Sienna tucked in voraciously, and Max even stopped in the middle of his own meal to admire her gusto. She was a curvy girl and loved it, not caring whether anyone gave a tinker’s damn about what she put in her mouth.
She looked up, noticed he was staring, and froze with her fingers in her mouth, partially inserting a morsel of Pave d’Affinois cheese. “What?”
“Nothing… No, not nothing. You’re beautiful.”
Rolling her eyes at him, she declared, “Dude, it is way too late and I am way too hungry for you to go sappy on me.”
He laughed, relieved her of the hunk of cheese she held in her other hand, and ate it himself. “Fair enough. But getting to know you… that’s not sappy, is it?”
“Oh,” she said coquettishly, “you know me, all right. You knew me on the bed, knew me on the carpet, knew me on the armchair….”
“Très drôle,funny girl.”