Maison Plaisir

by Lizzie Lynn Lee

  Innocently.

  Madame Chabert had called it fate. Maybe she was right. Armand wouldn’t have met Belle if this wasn’t fate.

  He took Belle’s hand and led her through the sea of Maison Plaisir patrons. Her delicate hand felt so small. She was a petite woman. Young, too. Even by human standards. Armand usually disliked fragile looking woman, but there was something about her that drew him instantly. Even though her smile could stop a man’s heartbeat for a second, Belle had the perpetual sad eyes that elicited the protective urge in him. She reminded Armand of someone dear to him a long time ago—his dead fiancée, Minette.

  Belle followed him quietly as they ascended the stairs to the second floor. Armand stole another glance at her. Those eyes. Her beautiful eyes might have fooled everybody into thinking she was a free-spirited girl, but Armand had a knack of looking through a person’s windows to their soul. Belle looked to be someone who had been living her sorrow in silence for a long time. Who hurt you? What could you possibly have done to deserve it?

  “Where are we going?” Belle asked.

  “Showing you what Maison Plaisir has to offer.”

  “B-but I already told you what I wanted.”

  “Yes. But I haven’t told you what I want.” Armand tugged her hand. They walked into the heart of Maison Plaisir, where the most talented courtesans—or associates, as the management preferred to call them—entertained the wealthiest folks in Seventh Realm.

  Belle stalked nervously beside him, looking uncomfortable with her surroundings. Judging from her expression, she wasn’t accustomed to being in places like this. Armand became curious. Could she possibly be a virgin?

  They arrived in a spacious circular room with seven towering doors. Each of the doors was an entry to each level of Maison Plaisir. “We are now in the Eye of the Lounge,” Armand explained. “Nothing is forbidden in Maison Plaisir. All pleasures are meant to be explored and all taboos are meant to be broken.”

  “What has that to do with my request?”

  “You want a fake boyfriend and such engagement won’t come cheap. I’ll be your boyfriend, but in return, you have to pay me with one pleasure of your choosing.”

  Belle blanched. “You mean…I have to sleep with you?”

  “That’s my price.”

  “I…” She stepped back. Her face turned magenta. “Why can’t you just ask for money?”

  “I don’t need money.”

  “Then why do you work here if you’re so loaded?” Her accusing tone sounded desperate.

  “I’m not an associate, beauty. My uncle owns this place.”

  “Oh God.” Belle pondered. “I…I didn’t know about that.”

  “You want something from me and you’ve got something I want. I think that’s an even trade. I can be your boyfriend as long as you want.” Armand leant forward. “And I’m good at it. You won’t be disappointed.”

  Belle held her gaze on him evenly. “Your price is steep. I need to ask your other associates.”

  So predictable, Armand mused. Sad-eyed beauty, all I want is to please you and put the smile back on your face. “You may try, but I highly doubt they will make a pact with you. They’ve seen you with me, and they know better than to dally with the owner’s nephew’s lady.”

  Her lips thinned in an instant.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Belle. Pleasure and your companionship is all I want.” Armand steered her to the left side of the lounge, into door number one. “I’m not going to demand anything that you’re not comfortable with. Have a look. This is Level One, catering to our hetero guests who prefer traditional pleasures.” Armand gestured at the viewing glass on the door. Most activities in each level in Maison Plaisir could be observed through the rectangular enchanted mirror. Some patrons loved to share their pleasure with voyeurs and they had their kicks being watched while they engaged in intimate activities. Belle gasped when she saw men and women sprawled across the floor in various stages of pleasure, being serviced by two or three of Maison Plaisir’s associates.

  She threw him a dirty look. “You call this traditional pleasure?”

  “I believe this is what you call vanilla sex, is that what your people say?” Armand urged her to walk to door number two.

  Belle cringed as soon as she saw the action on the viewing panel. Her discomfiture was so obvious.

  Armand couldn’t help but cock a naughty smile. “Level Two caters for guests who prefer male to male interaction. But this is not what I had in mind with you. I just want to show it to you. Just in case you like to participate as a voyeur.”

  “I’ll pass.”

  “If you like women, you’re welcome to Level Three.”

  “I’ll pass that too.”

  “You’re so easy to predict.” Armand dragged her to door number four. “In here”—Armand tapped his finger to the mirror”—”we cater to our guests who crave discipline and pain.”

  “Er…being whipped as foreplay is not my idea of pleasure.”

  “So you agree to my terms?”

  “I didn’t say that!”

  Armand laughed. “Levels Five, Six and Seven cater to our guests who prefer unconventional pleasure. Edge play.”

  “Edge play? Wait, I don’t want to know.”

  “Well?”

  Belle looked torn. “I…I don’t know. I need to think.”

  “Why don’t you have a seat while I get you something to drink? You look as if you need more tea. Are you hungry?”

  “No.” Belle trudged to a nearby chair. She sank herself in it. Her green eyes looked lost. She threw her long hair onto her back and folded her hands in her lap with caution.

  She’s nervous.

  “Wait here. I’ll be back with your tea.” Armand strode from the Eye of the Lounge to fetch her some tea from the kitchen. When he came back, he found Belle wasn’t alone. He ground his teeth, irritated. Not again.

  Hervé.

  Chapter Two

  The man was blond.

  So blond that he was aesthetically golden all around, shimmering in an unsettling aura. A golden god. Belle was awed. He wore his hair long and wavy—it fell on his back like filaments of spun gold. His eyes were as light as morning sunshine. Sharp, intelligent and mysterious. One look and Belle felt naked and vulnerable under his wickedly luminous gaze.

  He had high cheekbones. A perfectly curved nose. Sensuous lips that quirked into a perpetual smile. His beauty was somewhat…inhuman. The man was tall and fit, oddly dressed all in black, like Armand. Belle found she couldn’t take her eyes off him. And he came out of nowhere. One second, Belle was studying her shoes and the next, he just loomed before her, stooping and watching her with fervent curiosity.

  “I thought I smelt human and I wasn’t wrong.” His voice was deep and pleasant. He had the same accent as Armand, too. He stuck out his hand. “My name is Hervé de Silvano, and you are…?”

  Belle shook his hand before her mind realised what she was doing. “Isabelle Beaumont. But everybody calls me Belle.”

  “The pretty name suits you well. Are you unattended?”

  “Oh. I’m with somebody. Kinda.”

  “Kinda?”

  “She’s with me.” Armand’s voice cut sharp from behind her.

  Belle turned around. Armand didn’t look happy with the newcomer. He gave the cup of tea to her, and then he placed a hand on her shoulder with possession.

  “What are you doing here?” Armand asked Hervé.

  “I should ask the same thing of you, cousin.” Hervé smiled at her. “I didn’t know you had a new plaything.”

  Cousin? So the two of them were related?

  “Now you know. If you don’t mind, we need our privacy.”

  “Unfortunately, I do mind. I didn’t smell your scent on her. You haven’t claimed her.”

  “Yet,” Armand replied brusquely.

  “You know the rule of the house, cousin. The lady is still free to choose others until she’s properly claimed.” Hervé turn
ed back to her. “What is your pleasure, Belle?”

  “What’s your price?” Belle seized the opportunity. If Maison Plaisir’s associates would hesitate in dealing with her because they’d seen her with Armand, his cousin probably wouldn’t.

  “What’s the engagement?”

  “I need a fake boyfriend, for several weeks.”

  “It won’t come cheap. I want you, for at least six months.”

  Damn. “Why can’t you just take money? I have fifty grand in my savings account. You can buy a new car.”

  “Well, I don’t need money or a new car.”

  Figures.

  Armand patted her shoulder. “And all I asked for was a night of pleasure.”

  “Wait, that’s not fair. Let’s talk about it,” Hervé said.

  “Your Highness.” Madame Chabert’s voice interrupted him. She stood at the entrance of the lounge. “You have visitors.”

  Belle blinked. Your Highness? Hervé’s royalty?

  Hervé waved his hand, dismissing the hostess. “They can wait. I’m busy.”

  “It’s important,” Chabert insisted.

  Hervé cursed. “I’ll be back, Belle. Stay put.” He gave Armand a cross look and stalked off towards the hostess.

  Belle watched Hervé leaving with awe. She wasn’t surprised he was a blue-blood. Everything about him was so refined. She wondered which country he came from. Somewhere in Europe? She couldn’t identify his accent.

  “Well?” Armand tugged her face up. “Would you rather make a pact with my cousin, or with me?”

  “I…”

  “I won’t disappoint you. I’ll be there for you every time you need me. Night and day. Hail or sunshine.”

  Whoa. Even a real boyfriend didn’t come with a weather-proof guarantee. “You sure you don’t want cash?”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “I’m not good in bed.”

  “I’ll teach you a few tricks.”

  She bit her lower lip. The nervousness returned. Why couldn’t he be like a regular escort who’d be happy to take cash for the service he rendered? After Trent had dumped her she’d promised herself to never give her body to any man ever again. It took her a long time to get over the humiliation. Every now and then, when she thought about that jerk, she still couldn’t shed off the regret for being so stupid. Armand was an extremely good-looking man. She was afraid she might fall for him if she allowed him a night of intimacy. Heartache was something she didn’t want to go through ever again.

  Being dumped sucked.

  Armand furrowed his lush eyebrows. “Stop doing that.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Biting your lip. You’re bleeding.”

  “Really?” Belle wanted to wipe it.

  Armand halted her. “Allow me.” He lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers.

  Belle stiffened. What is he doing? She tried to push him away but suddenly she felt his large hands firmly planted on the back of her head, anchoring her to stay still as he kissed her deeply. The salty, coppery taste of her own blood flooded her palate when Armand pried open her mouth with his tongue. She wanted to protest, but her attempt evaporated in her throat. Armand kissed like he meant it. Demanding. Passionate. “Armand…”

  He muffled her with his kiss.

  Heat surged through her veins. Heart pounded. Nipples hardened. Before long, she burned with arousal. It shocked her. She’d been frigid since the night Trent dumped her. But this man, a stranger she barely knew, swept her into a brimstone of lust with just a simple kiss. She felt lightheaded when he finally gave her the chance to catch a breath.

  “There,” he murmured. His eyes fixed on her lips. “Don’t bite your lip.”

  “O-okay,” she slurred like a drunk.

  Armand held her face steadily. His thumbs brushed over her lips. “Will you make a pact with me?”

  Her common sense urged her to think this over carefully, but her body demanded otherwise. Belle wanted to ask for more time to think, but the word that came from her mouth was, “Yes.”

  “Good.” He beamed. “You won’t be disappointed, Belle.”

  What the hell am I doing?

  “Come.” Armand grabbed her hand. “Let’s find privacy.”

  Is it too late to cancel this? Belle unconsciously touched her lips. They still burned from Armand’s kiss. That scorching, hot, mind-numbing kiss that made her panties wet. How could this be possible? Her libido had been permanently on vacation ever since that fateful night. She hadn’t been called ‘Ice Queen’ all these years for nothing.

  Armand took her out from the Eye of the Lounge through an unmarked door and into a dark corridor. She trudged beside him, battling the decision she’d made. The prospect of spending the night with a stranger scared her. It felt like treading into unfamiliar water. Who knew what would happen? If she backed out now, she knew she’d be safe in her own solitary fortress where no one could hurt her.

  But that kiss…

  God. A kiss that could melt bones and make her blood boil.

  What else can he do besides giving someone a hot scorching kiss?

  “Armand…”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “You’ve said yes. A deal is a deal,” he told her, as if he could read her mind.

  Crap.

  “You’re mine tonight, Belle,” he reminded her. “Mine and mine alone.”

  She released a slow breath. Guess it’s too late to chicken out. But do I really want to? She unconsciously touched where his kiss had branded her lips. A jolt of thrill surged through her. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want him.

  They walked through a maze of dark, plush carpeted corridors until they reached another lounge area marked as ‘Private.’ Belle counted six doors in this lounge, each one facing across the small sitting area. The place was empty. Armand pushed open the last door from the left and motioned for her to go in.

  Her heart pounded even harder as she stepped inside. She felt vulnerable. Yet, strangely excited at the same time. What is wrong with me? I barely know him…

  Armand closed the door and locked it. He spread his hands. “What do you think?”

  Belle looked around. The bedroom wasn’t that big, but it felt very cosy and inviting. Beside a huge sleigh bed with crisp, white linen, the room was only furnished with a nightstand, a large mirror and a wingback chair near the door. The old-world charm theme carried to the décor. The walls were covered with fleur-de-lis wallpaper and white wainscoting. There was no lamp. The room was lit with dozens of white candles. Very romantic. “It’s nice.”

  He opened a door next to the chair, which turned out to be a bathroom.

  The heavy scent of roses mixed with burnt wax drifted out. A large bouquet of red roses was perched on the sink. Like the bedroom, the place was lit with dozens of flickering candles.

  Armand plugged the drain in the claw-foot tub and turned on the taps, drawing water. “Come.”

  “You want me to take a bath first?”

  “I want to bathe you.”

  Bathe me? “I can clean myself, thank you.”

  “Bathing a pretty woman is one of my pleasures.” Armand studied the choice of bubble baths in pretty bottles on the sink and picked up a pink one. “I love roses. How about you?”

  “Roses are nice.”

  He poured the bubble bath into the tub. White foam fluffed like clouds, and the thick scent of roses rose to the surface, filling the air around them with the scent of romance. Armand beckoned her. “Come here, beauty.”

  She bit the inside of her lip. I’m definitely not a beauty… Belle started unbuttoning her blouse.

  “No.”

  She paused.

  A wicked smile curled at the corner of his lips. His eyes sparkled. “That’s my job. I love undressing a beautiful woman.”

  She didn’t seem to believe him when he told her she was beautiful. Armand pulled her closer, pressing his body hard against her and letting her know how much he wanted her. He clean
ed a stray lock of hair from her face and lowered his head. Belle tensed when he kissed her again. He took his time, kissing her leisurely, wanting her to relax and enjoy what he’d do to her. Belle sagged in his arms when he parted his lips.

  “I…uhm, usually don’t do this…” she whispered.

  “Kiss a man?”

  Her cheeks reddened when she grasped the meaning of his tease. “Sleeping with strangers.”

  “I doubt you’ve ever slept with a man at all.”

  Her face turned magenta. “I’m not a virgin.”

  “You surely act like one.”

  “I…I’m just not good at this.”

  Armand traced the curve of her lips with his fingers. “It doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Do you like the way I kiss you?”

  Her face looked dreamy. “Y-yes.”

  He caressed her cheek, the curve of her throat, and down to the swell of her chest. She stiffened when he palmed her breast and squeezed her gently. Armand pressed his lips on hers and breathed out. “Like the way I touch you?”

  She swallowed hard. “Yes. Very much.”

  He had to kiss her again. Long. Deeply. Unhurried. She trembled in his arms when he parted his lips. He unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off. It landed by her shoes with a soft whisper. His heart thundered when he saw her cream-coloured lacy bra. Her breasts were quite ample despite her slender frame. His cock grew even harder underneath his pants; he couldn’t wait to discover all of her forbidden delights. He’d been aroused ever since he saw her enter the Common Hall with Madame Chabert.

  Pretty little thing. Innocent, yet ravishing.

  Armand kissed the side of her jaw, her neck and her shoulder while he unclasped the straps on her back. He took it off hastily.

  Her breasts looked even prettier than what he’d imagined. Round, firm, topped with light caramel nipples. Just perfect. Armand couldn’t resist licking it to see if her nipple was as delicious as it looked. And it was. Her body jerked as he sucked her ravenously.

  “Armand!” Her protest sounded like a breathless gasp. “I…”

  He let her nipple go. “Yum.” She tasted delicious, so Armand had to sample her other one. A long keen filled the ceiling of the bathroom as he took his time sampling her sweetness. She clenched his hair. Her spine kinked as she stretched in pleasure. Belle staggered when he released her. He knelt down and trailed kisses down her belly.