The Chateau: An Erotic Thriller Read online

  He positioned the tip at the entrance and slowly lowered himself down onto her, allowing the shifting of his weight to push his cock into her without force or thrusting. He watched Colette closely as he entered her. Her fingers caught in the sheets and she pulled hard. Her eyes closed tight, and her hips shifted as if trying to make room inside herself for him.

  He tested a tentative thrust, and, while she didn’t protest or whimper in pain, she didn’t seem to like it much either.

  Kingsley started to pull out, but Colette said no to that.

  “It hurts,” Kingsley said. “Yes?”

  “Darling?” Madame said. “Does it hurt?”

  Colette glanced at Madame and then back at Kingsley. “It’s just…it’s so deep,” she said. Kingsley could see she was torn between wanting to push past the discomfort and wanting to push him out of her.

  “Too deep?” Kingsley asked.

  Colette looked embarrassed. “A little.”

  “Try her on top,” Madame said to Kingsley.

  “Are you in charge here?” Kingsley asked her.

  “Yes,” Madame said curtly. “Always, if you’ve forgotten. And I’m a woman. Put her on top.”

  “Do you want to be on top?” he asked Colette. Madame might have been in charge of the château, but only Colette was in charge of Colette.

  “Can we try something different?” she asked. “I don’t think I want that.”

  Kingsley turned to Madame. He found her smiling instead of scowling like he’d expected. Apparently, he’d passed another of her little tests.

  “We’ll play,” he said. “When you like something, tell me.” Kingsley pulled out, as ordered, and kissed Colette until she didn’t look quite so chagrined anymore. Poor thing. “You want to play?”

  “Let’s play,” she said, nodding.

  He put her legs on his shoulders and entered her again.

  “You’re in my chest cavity,” she said. “That is definitely bad for my cardiovascular health.”

  Kingsley laughed and pulled out. He put her on her hands and knees and entered her from behind.

  “No, no, now I just have to piss,” she said. Kingsley pulled out. “Wait, no I don’t.”

  Kingsley pushed her onto her side and knelt behind her, entered her again slowly.

  “Ohh…” she said.

  “Good ohh? Bad ohh?” he asked. He pulled out again and waited for her verdict.

  “Ohh ohh,” she said. “I think it could work.”

  Madame came to the bed and picked up a small pillow.

  “Lift your knee, darling,” Madame said. She fit it under Colette’s thigh.

  “I’ve never had an assistant before,” Kingsley said as Madame maneuvered Colette into a comfortable position on her side, but with her thighs still open enough he could get into her vagina from behind.

  “I told you,” Madame said. “I’m in charge. You’re the assistant.”

  She said that with a little smirk on her lips and even Colette giggled underneath him.

  “No laughing from you,” Kingsley said as he slid in behind her, covering her body with his. He kissed the back of her naked shoulder and caressed her thigh and hip and small soft bottom with the flat of his hand.

  “Are you ready to try again?”

  Colette smiled and nodded.

  “Ahem,” Madame said.

  Kingsley had to fight to not roll his eyes.

  “Yes?” he asked Madame. She held a small glass bottle of what was obviously a very pricey lubricant.

  “She’s already wet,” he said to Madame.

  “Do you have a vagina?” Madame asked him.

  Kingsley sighed and held out his hand. Madame poured a liberal amount of the viscous fluid onto his fingertips, which he massaged over and into Colette’s vulva and vagina. Madame even wiped his fingers off for him when he’d finished. Perhaps there was something to be said for having an assistant.

  Kingsley waited for her to return to her chair, but Madame stayed standing close by the bed.

  “You’re going to stand there?” Kingsley said.

  “For now. Carry on.”

  “You live in a strange house,” he said as he mounted Colette again.

  “Really?” Colette said. “I like it.”

  “Don’t tell Madame,” Kingsley said. “But I do, too.”

  He started to push his cock into Colette again and this time he went as slow as possible. When he’d gone in a couple of inches, he began to move with short, slow shallow thrusts. He went into her body an inch at a time and then a thrust at time. Unable to resist, he glanced up once to see Madame watching him with avid interest. He hadn’t expected it to arouse him to be watched by this lady but it did, very much. He and Madame locked gazes as he worked his way deep into Colette’s body. Colette’s eyes were closed as he penetrated her fully, so she didn’t see Madame reach out and stroke Kingsley’s body from his lower back, over his hip, and down his thigh, like a jockey inspecting prize horseflesh. Madame gave him one last little wink before she returned to her chair to watch at a more respectful distance.

  “Good show,” Madame said as she sat back in her chair.

  Well, if he was going to have an audience, at least it was an appreciative one.

  26

  Kingsley turned his attention back to Colette. As erotic as it was to be watched while fucking, he did have a job to do and that job was to make Colette come. As he moved in her wetness, she made murmuring sounds of pleasure as he pressed into her deeper. She took him easily now, and after only a minute or two of thrusting, he was fully penetrating her. He shifted his weight onto his hands and braced himself over her, letting his lower back and hips do all the work as he thrust his cock into the panting moaning girl. His thighs were hard as steel bars by that point. His years of experience were the only thing keeping him from spilling inside her before he’d even gotten her close to orgasm. He lowered himself onto his side and held her back to his chest, spooning her while he fucked her.

  With his other hand he found her swollen clitoris. Colette cried out when he touched it. It was a beautiful cry. That little knot of tender flesh was hard and hot, and it throbbed against his fingertips as he kneaded it. He rubbed it in time with his thrusts. He could feel Colette’s vagina tightening around his cock as he pressed her toward climax. She was squirming against him, trying to take more of him inside her, feeling more of his touch on her. Every few thrusts she said his name or “please” or “yes.” Finally she said “more.”

  “Harder?” he asked into her ear. “Deeper?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Which one?”

  “Both. All. Everything. Just more.”

  If he hadn’t been so hard and ready to come, he might have laughed at her eagerness. He kneaded her clitoris as thoroughly, yet as gently as he could, until she was gone, far gone, over the edge and there was no going back.

  He pulled out of her and pushed her onto her back again. With a rough thrust he was back inside her. She arched underneath with shameless pleasure. That’s what she wanted. That’s what she needed. She needed to be taken and impaled and he was happy to do it. She threw her legs open wide in invitation and Kingsley pounded into her with powerful thrusts, ramming his full shaft into her before pulling out to the tip and ramming it in again. She was at that stage of arousal where he couldn’t begin to fuck her hard enough to suit her…but he would try. God, he would try.

  The room grew fragrant with the scent of her wetness and their sweat. A heady moment for Kingsley with this beautiful young girl spread out under him, his cock splitting her body open, and one of the more fascinating women he’d ever met watching their every movement from only a few feet away. Colette’s nipples were hard and he sucked them into his mouth, nipped and tugged on them until the girl was nearly out of her mind with need. She writhed under him, her hips hungrily bucking into his thrusts, eager to take as much or more than he could give. He covered her breast with his hands, holding and kneading them
while he rode her. When it seemed Colette had reached the very edge of her arousal, when she hovered there, poised on the brink of the cliff so that even the slightest breeze could send her tumbling over, that’s when Kingsley licked his two fingertips and pressed them against her burning clitoris again and rubbed.

  Colette arched back again, arched hard, arched so that her shoulders came off the bed. She didn’t make a sound when she came, but she didn’t need to. Kingsley could feel it happening. Her inner muscles clasped at his cock, clenching it and squeezing it tight. And as she came he pounded into her again and again, rapid-fire thrusts deep into the core of her as he raced toward his own orgasm.

  He’d fantasized briefly about pulling out and coming onto her lovely breasts, but the necessary self-control for that act was long gone. His own orgasm was unstoppable. As Colette’s body spasmed wildly around him, he released into her with a grunt he couldn’t suppress. With thrust after mindless merciless thrust, he pumped his semen deep inside her until he was spent and empty. He poured himself out and into her until he had nothing left to give and she had no will left to take.

  And then it was done.

  Underneath him, Colette had gone so still he thought she might have passed out. She only moved again when he slowly pulled out of her. Fluid, his and hers, poured from her and onto the already dampened sheets underneath her hips. He had just enough wherewithal to examine her body, his, and the wetness on the bed to make sure none of it was blood. It wasn’t. Then he collapsed next to her onto his side.

  Colette slowly opened her sleepy eyes, turned her head and looked at him.

  “Six,” she whispered. Her voice was hoarse and hollow. She had no more energy than he did.

  “What’s six?” he asked. “How many children we’re going to have?”

  “No,” she said, smiling. “Six is how many times I want you to do that to me tonight.”

  He’d just ravished her into near-unconsciousness and she was already asking for more. When they wanted him to leave this house, they would have to drag him out kicking and screaming.

  “Six?” he said. “That could take a while. Best get started…”

  He kissed her lips. They were dry from panting, but a girl who’d just had a man in her for the first time needed kissing and lots of it. It might have turned to more than kissing quickly if Madame hadn’t interrupted with another one of her “Ahems.”

  “Drink,” Madame said, offering Kingsley and Colette each a champagne flute.

  Kingsley helped Colette straighten her nightgown and sit up. She winced, but she didn’t complain of any pain. Even he might be feeling a twinge of soreness tomorrow after how hard he’d rode her. He looked forward to feeling his muscles talking to him, reminding him of this night and every little thing he did to this delicious girl.

  “Thank you,” Colette said as she took her first sip of the chilled champagne. Her nose wriggled from the bubbles. It was adorable enough that Kingsley thought six might be the low estimate.

  Parched as he was, he emptied his champagne flute in two swallows and didn’t even taste it going down. He lay back on the bed and pulled Colette to his chest. She came willingly, smilingly, and brought many kisses for him with her.

  “I hope you approve of my performance,” he said to Madame.

  “If Colette approves, I approve,” Madame said. She placed both empty glasses onto a side table and returned to her chair.

  “When can we do that again?” Colette asked.

  “I just came out my ears,” Kingsley said. “I’m going to need a long time to recover. Ten minutes, bare minimum.”

  Madame pointed at Colette. “You rest. And you,” she said, pointing at Kingsley, “come with me.”

  “Me?” Kingsley pointed at himself.

  Madame didn’t answer. She merely gave him the look that brooked no opposition.

  “Stay,” he said to Colette, giving her a quick kiss on her pouting lips. “I’ll be back. Promise.”

  Kingsley climbed out of bed and pulled on his clothes quickly and haphazardly. Trousers, shirt barely buttoned. He skipped the shoes and walked barefoot with Madame out of the bedroom and into the hallway.

  “Where are we going?” he asked Madame.

  “I want Colette to rest a while,” she said. “It’s not good for her to get too attached too quickly. Recipe for disaster, as they say.”

  “What about me?” Kingsley asked. “What if I’m too attached?”

  Madame waved her hand, a gesture to show she was flinging his question aside. “You just made love to a pretty young virgin. Your head’s in the clouds. In two days you’ll have forgotten all about her and don’t pretend otherwise.”

  Kingsley’s steps slowed. “In two days, I hope I’m still in bed with her,” he said, blinking. A sudden headache hit him between the eyes and he fought the urge to lie down again.

  They were outside another room and Madame opened the door to a simple white bedroom, a guest room, and though there was nothing sinister about it, he didn’t want to go in. Madame pushed lightly on his lower back and he felt too weak to resist.

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Madame said. “You look tired. You should sleep.”

  Sleep was exactly what he wanted. Kingsley wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep and sleep and sleep. But it wasn’t much after midnight. Why was he this exhausted?

  “You…” he breathed and raised a heavy hand to his head. “What did you give me?”

  “Nothing that won’t wear off by tomorrow afternoon. Until then…” Madame said. “Lie down. Don’t make it difficult for yourself. There’s no reason to.”

  He could have made it difficult. The urge to throttle the woman and flee was almost as overwhelming as the urge to lie down and sleep. Almost.

  “What did I do…” was the last thing he said as he collapsed onto the bed.

  Madame put a pillow under his head as he fell to his side. “It’s not personal, dear,” she said, patting his cheek. A tender touch, almost motherly. “I like you very much.”

  “Then why—” he tried to ask again.

  Madame touched his eyelids, lowering them closed.

  “Shh…” she said, a mother to a son. “It’s just our way.”

  Kingsley’s head swam, and his brain danced. He forced his eyes open, and he saw a door in the middle of a forest, and a beautiful boy with hair like June and eyes like January stepping through the door and visiting him where he lay on the bed. The boy touched his face, gently.

  “Oh, there you are,” Kingsley said. “You found me.”

  “I’ll always find you,” the boy said and smiled.

  “I don’t like this anymore,” Kingsley said to the boy. “I want to go home.”

  The boy picked Kingsley up off the bed as if he weighed no more than a feather, threw him over his shoulder, and carried him home.

  27

  “And that’s it?” the colonel asked. “You drank some champagne and fifteen minutes later, you were asleep?”

  “Benzo,” Kingsley said. “And maybe something else. They’re not sure what yet. Knocked me on my ass for twelve hours straight.”

  Kingsley had told this story already, but Colonel Masson apparently wanted to hear it again. The colonel was in his late fifties or early sixties, but even with his iron gray hair and mustache, he still carried himself with the power and bearing of a man half his age. A military man to the bone—disciplined, perceptive, tight-lipped and tough as nails. Kingsley didn’t like the man, but he respected him…which is why this whole incident with his nephew was so puzzling and annoying. Surely the man had better things to do than police the sex lives of his relatives.

  “What else do you remember of that night?” the colonel asked. “Tell me anything you can recall.”

  Kingsley sighed as he dug through his already-fading memories.

  “Not much,” he said. “There was the party, the ceremony. Madame took me to a room. Things happened that do not need to be discussed in detail
, and after, lights out.”

  Kingsley was sitting on a boring brown chair in a boring brown office in a boring brown office building that was doing everything it could to shout out its incredible boringness to the world so no one would take a second look and discover it was the Paris HQ for the military intelligence agency Kingsley had been assigned to for the past two years.

  “I woke up in a room at The Opulent,” Kingsley continued. “Same hotel room I met Madame in the day before. I called Bernie to come get me and that was it. Do we need to go over this a third time?”

  “Yes,” said Captain Huet, who, despite his superior rank and even more superior attitude, was only three years older than Kingsley. “I have questions.”

  Kingsley sat back in this chair, stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles.

  “The answer is yes,” Kingsley said. “The sex was very good.”

  The colonel, who’d been pacing the office, lightly slapped Kingsley on the back of the head. Kingsley sat up straight again. He’d been called out for insubordination more than once in his career.

  “Apologies,” Kingsley said. “The sex was very good, Captain.”

  “Another question,” Huet said. “I passed the phone call test. I made it to a hotel room and met this ‘Madame,’ same as you. Why did she pick you and not me?”

  “I’m prettier?” Kingsley suggested.

  Huet, with his bright blue eyes and Gallic good looks, didn’t take that well. He loomed over Kingsley’s chair, glaring down at him.

  “She asked me if I was willing to let her kill me,” Huet said. “But you, you get to go and play Hide the Saber for two nights.”

  “Did you tell her ‘yes’?” Kingsley asked.

  “What?”

  “Did you tell her that she could kill you?” Kingsley asked.

  Huet furrowed his brow. “Of course not.”

  Kingsley pointed at him and shook his finger. “That’s the difference. When she asked me, I said ‘yes.’ ”

  Huet threw up his hand in disgust and turned his back on Kingsley.

  “Why would you agree to something like that?” the colonel asked, his tone more thoughtful than Huet’s.