“I did, Maxine,” he agreed. “But how did it feel? Tell me the truth.”
“The truth is,” she began and brought his hand to her lips to kiss his knuckles, “I thoroughly enjoyed the new intensity—on all fronts. I think we’ve been preparing each other for quite some time now for this. I want to really develop a new tolerance level. And I think we can manage that—together.”
He adored how she was prepared to discuss their play so eloquently in the aftermath of their scene. She truly did know what she wanted and what she expected from him as her Dominant husband.
“That, we can do, little one,” he said while he zipped up his jeans and pulled her closer. “And I’m glad you now understand that you can’t have everything all at once.”
His hands continued to roam, and he could feel the weals rising on her ass. Not that she complained. In fact, arousal began to build again with the tenderness of his touch playing against the harsh evidence of their play. However, he really did need to get her back to their suite soon, and after kissing each temple, he pulled away from her to gather her lingerie, shoes, and robe.
“We’ll play here again?” she asked, her eyes widening with that playful gaze. “Before we go?”
“Of course, we will,” he said, handing her the heels she’d worn earlier. “You still have a full toybox for us to explore…”
“Oh, yay!” she cheered.
“You know, Maxine,” he said, taking her shoulders in his hands and giving them a gentle squeeze. “You really did so very well this evening. You even managed to surprise me. I’m glad you demanded a little more…”
“I wouldn’t have demanded anything if I didn’t love and trust you implicitly…”
“And for the same reasons, I’m so fucking cautious with you,” he said. “But you understand that.”
With a slow nod, she smiled. “I do.”
“And I just love you so damn much that it would seriously damage me if I ever hurt you,” he said. “Even unintentionally…”
“Drew,” she whispered, and placed a finger over his lips which he pulled into his mouth.
Then, with ease, he lifted her into his arms. “Time for some First Aid, little one,” he said. “Your breasts don’t look too bad, but I’m worried about that ass…”
“You’re always worried about my ass…”
“And it’s my pleasure,” he winked.
“You’re going to carry me up all those flights?” Maxine questioned, kicking her feet in the air.
“No, there’s an elevator down that dark and menacing hallway there,” he said with a nod and a chuckle.
“An elevator?” Maxine questioned. “Seriously?”
“They were apparently installed with the renovations,” he explained.
“So why did you walk me down here?” she questioned.
“To build the suspense,” he said. “Would it have been half as much fun if I’d just pressed the call button and we cruised down five stories?”
“Ah, it was all about the approach into your dangerous lair…” she cackled.
“Got your adrenaline pumping, didn’t it?”
“No, that was pumping long before we left our room…” she said. “And Drew? By the way…”
As he carried her along down aforementioned dark hallway, he laughed, wondering just what the hell she was about to say next. “Yes, little one?”
“You can press my call button any day…”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The crisp, sweet sounds trickling from the piano keys echoed softly in the distance down the long hallway, luring her away from her thoughts of breakfast that morning as a chilly spring rain began to fall.
They’d been staying at the chateau for six days, and while Drew promised yet another adventure on the horizon, Maxine truly didn’t want to leave this magical setting behind. Every day brought forth another surprise.
Drew wowed her with a guided tour of Chateau Chenonçeau—the inspiration for the castle in which they were staying. The drive through the completely wooded path, with a canopy of blooming trees that wove together overhead, left Maxine entranced. Her first glimpse of the grounds gave her reason to believe that their fairy tale honeymoon was beginning anew.
Constructed in the twelfth century, then rebuilt after fires and floods, Chenonçeau brimmed with stories of kings and queens, love and infidelities, joy and angst. The lavish rooms, set in early French Renaissance décor, upheld the secrets of centuries of nobility, offering a stark reality to the splendor surrounding them.
In the lush gardens, they’d picnicked à deux. They snacked on a selection of fresh cheeses and sipped wine made in the castle’s very own cellars. Afterward, a rather competitive game of “Catch Me If You Can” ensued in the circular maze that was the true highlight of the landscaping. Drew, of course, caught Maxine in one of the maze’s dead ends, then left her longing as he politely walked her along to the exit.
They’d toured several castles over the span of their first couple of days, often forgoing the map and allowing the Loire River to be their guide. Maxine particularly enjoyed their sojourn to Saumur, birthplace of one Gabrielle “Coco” Chanel. From a small precipice upon the hillside, Maxine gazed down upon the tiny center of town that perched directly on the wide breadth of the river. She pondered how one of the world’s most beloved fashion icons rose from her poor and tragic life on those very streets.
One of five children to an unmarried gypsy couple, Coco lost her mother as a small girl. In fact, her father passed her off to an orphanage where a group of nuns taught her the art of sewing. Those humble beginnings—and the level of greatness to which Chanel eventually rose—seemed come alive before the eyes of Maxine’s imagination as she studied the town from above.
Although she had struggled to find her own place in her own life, Maxine rediscovered her own sense of empowerment.
Their next journey began late the following morning with a chauffeur-driven ride to a tiny vineyard. Naturally, Drew wined and dined her, then swooped her away from the winemakers to make love to her, right up against an age-old tree off in the distance in the woods.
They’d passed their evenings back at the chateau, retreating to their own private dungeon for a bit of play. While Maxine did indeed want more, she also began to come to her own understanding of their lifestyle. Moderation was the core of their sexual practices. But tempting and imploring Drew was always so much fun.
On that rather dreary last morning of their stay, though, Maxine was quite content just staying in before their drive off to heaven only knew where.
Following the beat of that familiar melody, Maxine continued on down the hallway, chuckling all the while. Drew was a multi-talented man—a triple threat in the realm of legitimate theater—but he certainly had no rhythm when he sat down at the piano.
With his uncanny ability to always sense Maxine’s nearness, Drew looked up from the antique baby grand in the library and smiled, but his fingers never left the keys. And as she made her slow way closer to take the seat beside him on the piano bench, he still continued to play.
“I think I know that song, Kind Sir…” she whispered as she scooted closer. “I believe you sang that to me at our wedding…”
Drew stopped and turned completely to face her. “You’re so beautiful, little one…” he whispered, his fingers rippling through her auburn locks.
He could literally buy her anything that her heart could ever hope to have, but this gift of music, inspired by his love alone, was one of the greatest presents he could give her.
Nearly speechless, she could only nod toward the ivories, and mutter, “Will you sing for me now…please?”
Folding his hands together, he gave his knuckles a quick crack, his own smile broadening. “As you wish…”
Hearing those notes a second time around behind his sleep-worn tenor voice, Maxine absorbed the emotion of the powerhouse lyrics. She could actually visualize the progression of their relationship—from lighthearted giddiness
to turbulence to fear all pouring forth before circling back to joy.
Now, those early days in September seemed like a lifetime ago, and as he continued to sing to her, a calm like none other saturated the room. Sometimes, they both needed a reminder of their start.
“Again…” she whispered into his ear as he held on to that final note of the song.
But rather than acquiescing to her request, Drew turned and kissed her on the lips. “Little one, we have a long drive ahead of us.”
Maxine didn’t inquire where they were headed next—but she knew for certain that she wasn’t yet ready to leave.
“You’re sad…”As he moved closer, her lips met his again for one more lingering kiss.
“I can almost feel the clock ticking—like we’re losing seconds on the most beautiful days of my life so far,” she admitted.
Flattening his palms against her back, he pressed her against his chest just to hold her. “You make my every moment beautiful, you know? Doesn’t matter where we are…”
“Thank you for this time, Drew,” she whispered “And thank you for being you…”
The drizzle outside transcended into a downpour within mere seconds, and the heavy pellets of rain beat against the windows. As ugly and harsh as the weather seemed to become, Maxine always found safety in his arms.
“Sometime, Maxine,” Drew began, “I’d like to have you in the rain…”
“Now?” her small voice questioned.
“Not yet, little one…” His lips caressed over her scalp, rippling her desires with the most delicate of gestures. “I need to feed you—and dress you for this stormy day.”
She looked up, her melancholy eyes imploring. “Do we really have to leave?”
“We’re beginning another part of our journey,” he reminded her. “Look at it like that…”
“We always are, my love,” Maxine said, taking a tiny nibble at the tip of his nose. “And I look forward to each and every one with you...”
# # #
“Well, well, well…” Drew’s smug grin nearly filled the entire opulent foyer of that old chateau as he leaned against the front door, arms folded over his chest in wait for Maxine’s entrance down the spiraled staircase. “She heeded my advice and dressed for this rainy day…”
“I thought it was more of an order.” Maxine shoved her hands into the pockets of her tan raincoat, belted as tight as a corset around her waist while she scuffed her Burberry rain boots along the marble flooring. Stretching out her neck, she proudly donned her collar, and she wanted to make sure that Drew took notice, too.
Eyes dancing around quickly to determine that they were indeed alone, Drew pulled her close, slipping one hand inside the breast of her jacket and another beneath the hem. He found her skin silky and bare—just how he wanted her.
“You’ve followed direction well this morning—and your collar, as always, looks spectacular on you,” Drew said. “Penelope…”
Tongue traveling over her open lips, Maxine tugged on the belt, exhibiting an air of anxiousness. “I do try to obey, Mr. Mack,” she insisted. “Sometimes, though, I find myself…distracted…”
“Hopefully, we’ll have enough toys for you to play with in the car today to keep your idle hands—and other parts—occupied.”
“Toys?” She nearly jumped from her own excitement, then realized she just might pop one of her breasts from her coat if she didn’t settle down. “For the car ride?”
“Do I always take care of my submissive?” he retorted. “You know, I wouldn’t necessarily be so gleeful right now, Miss Merryweather. Four hours is a very long time to suffer…I mean…to wait out an orgasm. There will be no coming in the car.”
Stilled and stunned, she stiffened against him. “No coming, Mr. Mack? For four hours?”
He could hear the slight choke of her gasp, which only served to jolt his cock to attention. “Oh, at least four hours…”
Maxine shifted and straightened herself with her shoulders back. “Oh, fuckballs, Mr. Mack…”
His laughter, meant to be forced, sounded between them. “Funny—my submissive back home says the same thing when she’s frustrated. Fuckballs.”
“Multipurpose,” she muttered from the corner of her mouth. “Many uses for it, Mr. Mack. In fact, when you—”
“Monsieur, Madame McKenzie…” a familiar voice traveled throughout the echoing foyer.
Now, Maxine had to put everything Drew taught her to the test as she stood before the head butler, wearing nothing but a raincoat and rubber boots.
“Thank you again so very much for everything while we were here.” Drew shook his hand and slipped him what might be considered a week’s salary to some as a gesture for his meticulous service at the chateau. “You’ve been the perfect host here…”
“My pleasure, Monsieur,” the elderly gentleman with a shiny bald head and warm brown eyes said. The Mistress of the House employed him for both his extraordinary sense of detail and his ironclad discretion. “You have a wonderful continuation of your honeymoon.”
Their pleasantries, however, were cut short by the ring of Maxine’s phone.
“Yes, fuck,” those familiar words resounded through the hallway like the tolling of the fucking Liberty Bell. “You’re fucking your hairbrush, Maxine…”
“Fuck…more…now…cock…need your cock…”
Utter panic claimed them both as they collectively dove into Maxine’s handbag to find the damn thing. She’d forgotten to change her ringtone after her session with Naughty Sassy Siri.
“Merci, Monsieur…” Maxine nodded and crossed one leg in front of the other as she shut off her phone. And dammit, it was her father calling! Face a fire, she could have sworn that butler could see straight through her trench coat.
“That’s what I call punishment,” Drew muttered with an evil chuckle.
“Safe travels,” the butler wished them. Maxine couldn’t tell if he was just so oblivious from the raunchy adventures of his Mistress or if he was hurrying them off. “We’ll see you again?”
“You will most certainly see us again….” Drew smiled.
On their first anniversary, they would return to visit his dear friend and to thank her in person for her generosity. Maxine and Drew would both, however, politely decline her invitation to play after the dinner party hosted in their honor. Madame would always understand that Drew was a one-woman-man—and exceedingly protective of his little one. In fact, Madame would tell him that she couldn’t have found a more perfect life partner than Maxine for Drew if she’d selected one herself.
Their rented BMW had been loaded down with their luggage, but as Maxine settled into the passenger seat, she was quick to take notice of one major detail. For the first time since she met him, Drew neglected to buckle her seatbelt!
Certainly, that man wasn’t off his game. This step was a calculated one, devised in the devious thoughts of one “Mr. Mack.”
“Some music?” he asked, fidgeting with his iPod. “How about a little Bowie?”
Scrolling through his library, those skilled fingers rolled habitually to his favorite, “Young Americans,” and the entire little car filled with the soulful song.
Fingers wrapping around the door handle, Maxine knew she had to get a grip quickly. Already enticing her with his lack of information, he ensnared her in with his avoidance. “Bowie is a fine choice, Sir…”
And suddenly, over the smooth saxophone crooning throughout the song, Drew’s laughter resounded above the music.
“You know, Miss Merryweather,” he finally managed to say, “I think we’ll keep Naughty Sassy Siri for a little while longer…”
“That bitch…”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing, Sir…” she said as she flipped through her phone to reset her ringtone. “There. ‘Rebel Rebel’ just for you, Sir…”
“So…” Drew turned sharply toward the backseat to haul out his magical Vuitton travel bag of goodies. Digging through its contents, he held up Z
iploc bags of granola treats, nuts, and dried fruits. “I brought snacks and juice for you. It’s going to be an awfully long drive, and I know you’ll need some energy.”
Skip the fucking almonds, Maxine thought, and get to the sex…
“Nice,” she bared her teeth in her false appraisal, “Mr. Mack…”
Grabbing a handful of craisins and scooping them into his mouth, he chewed as he spoke. “You should really try some. You didn’t eat much at breakfast…”
It suddenly dawned on Maxine that she was wearing absolutely nothing but a silk trench, sweaty rubber boots, and over a hundred thousand dollars in diamonds and gems between her collar and her rings. With a drive that promised to take up the entire afternoon if they didn’t hit too much traffic, Maxine just sighed.
Penelope was in shitloads of trouble at the hands of Mr. Mack.
“This little ditty is quite appropriate for our journey,” he said and gestured toward the speakers. “You don’t like it?”
“Oh, no, it’s wonderful, Mr. Mack,” she answered. “I love Bowie. I’m just…”
“What is it?” he took her hand and filled it with yogurt chips. “Talk to me…”
“My Master always taught me not to ask questions,” she thought quickly. “So I shall refrain from further comment.”
Gently sliding his fingers beneath her thighs, he ignored her comment and said, “Lift and hold yourself. I’ll give you a taste of what’s coming for you to savor…”
Back into his bag he foraged like a scavenger. “Ah, yes…”
In the palm of his hand, he held a device that looked similar to a computer mouse, only Maxine didn’t believe for a second that it had anything to do with his laptop.
“Bet you’d like to know more about this,” he taunted.
“I’m sure you’ll tell me, Sir…?”
Plunking the mystery gadget down right between her legs, he told her, “Sit on it…”
“Si-whaaaa—?”
“Sit down, Miss Merryweather. You’re wasting time here. We have places to go.”
KNOTTED: The Manhattan Bound Series, Book Three Page 41
