His Madam

by Aria M. Gray

  I start to cover back up, my nipples hardening from the cold and his delicious teasing.

  “Let me look at you for a while? I’ll make sure you stay warm.”

  “Alright, but don’t touch me down there while I sleep.”

  “I’d never do that, Marcella. I’m not a creep.” He wedges himself close, his body heat keeping me toasty. He’s a good foot taller than me, leaving me plenty of space to curl up in.

  He watches me, every little breath and movement, every contented sigh and the kisses I place on his chest.

  He moans softly a few minutes later, body trembling against mine. It shouldn’t be a turn on to watch him fondle himself, but it is. I know I’m why he’s doing it. The entire time his eyes peruse my body as if I’m an oasis in the desert and he hasn’t seen a drop of water in days.

  Chapter 6. The Madam

  Three Weeks Later

  I wake in the middle of bed. I stretch as I often do before glancing at the clock. It’s late for me to wake; it’s nine a.m.

  Suddenly, I notice the shoes on the floor beside the bed. Those aren’t mine.

  Everything comes back. Carter. Sometimes I forget I have a new husband. I dreamed some raunchy things about him last night. I’m wet between my legs from them.

  Carter’s been living with me for three weeks. We settled into a rhythm quickly, mindful of each other’s space. Carter likes to push the envelope, but I let him. I like his hands on me.

  He makes me come every night the same as the first. I see how he throbs after every encounter, but he never asks to find his release inside me. I respect him for respecting my wishes.

  “Please don’t be angry,” I whisper into the quiet room. My Rhys is gone and a new one in his place. It’s strange that the two men to ever be in my life share the same name.

  A mouth-watering smell wafts through the room. Is Carter off cooking?

  Rising, I pull on the robe from last night. I head to the kitchen and find him at the stove.

  He smiles when he sees me. “Morning, beautiful.”

  My eyes tear up. No one’s said that to me since my husband.

  I clear my throat to hide my shaky voice. “You’re making breakfast?”

  “Waffles, bacon, and omelets. I had to run down the street to the store for the waffles. Want cheese on your omelet?”

  “Yes.” I take a seat on the stool at the marble island. He passes me a plate before getting his own and sitting down beside me.

  I’ve gotten so used to being alone it’s still strange to have him in my apartment.

  We talk a little, but mostly we sit in silence. We’ve sat like this a lot of mornings. However, Carter’s chatty this morning.

  “Tell me about yourself,” he says, finishing the last few bites on his plate. “We’re married, yet I know nothing about you.”

  “I’ve read your file with the company. I know a lot about you.”

  His ears turn red. It’s cute and adorable. “All of it?”

  “All of it.”

  I know he’s a virgin. I don’t mind. He has way more skills than I thought someone as green as him would have.

  I can hardly judge when I’ve only been with one man.

  “Then tell me about yourself, Scarlet.”

  I like being called by my alias. “There’s not much to tell. I started my business six years ago and made a lot of money. I don’t get arrested for it because I keep a wall between me and the sex part of the business. I help with training, but not many see my face without the mask or know my real name. I wear a mask like you saw when you came in for your interview. Our escorts use their skills to create small businesses, and we funnel the money through those. It’s complicated.”

  “And your interests? Favorite book? Movies? Color?”

  “I like studying ancient erotica art. My favorite book is the Scarlet Letter, and that’s where the idea for Madam Scarlet started. I like comedies, and my favorite color is orange.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Erotic art?”

  “That’s where a lot of my money originates. The escort business is good, but I want a legal avenue too.”

  “How did you start out?”

  I shrug. “I knew powerful people in New York and Washington, D.C.. The ones in Washington divert attention. We work off blackmail.”

  “Blackmail?”

  “Clients can only have sex with an escort if they give our company a secret, in case the clients ever decide to turn us in. It keeps the scales even.”

  “And people agree to it?”

  “They know we keep all information confidential unless provoked. I am not one to be messed with.”

  “I’ve noticed that. I also noticed your Master’s Degree on the wall in the hall. Psychology I think it said?”

  I nod. “I like studying people. Did you look at the rest of the pictures in the hall?”

  His eyes narrow. “Yes.”

  Shit. I told him that for financial reasons I needed to marry. I said it would help with taxes and other bullshit. I didn’t tell him it was because of my first husband’s will.

  “Who’s the man in the pictures, Marcella?”

  There are half a dozen photos of Rhys in the hall. They are the only ones I keep up. I don’t want to be constantly reminded of him, but neither do I want to forget him.

  “It’s none of your damn business!” I shout.

  He remains calm. “I would prefer honesty and no secrets.”

  “You’re here as a prop! Nothing more.”

  His voice is dangerous as he says, “Would a prop do this?”

  Picking me up, he places me on the counter, angling my face to kiss me deeper. His tongue parts my lips and enters, searching out the farthest corners. When he pulls away, I’m left breathless.

  Why does he turn me on like this? I’d feel like a true slut if my Rhys was alive. He’s not here and Carter, gorgeous and ready as ever, is.

  But am I ready to move on?

  I shove Carter back as tears flood my eyes. Have I betrayed my first husband? I swore he’d be the only one.

  “Just get the hell away from me!” I hop off the counter and run into the bedroom. Shutting the door, I throw myself into the bed. Childish maybe, but I need a good sob.

  I betrayed him. I betrayed my Rhys with another man. I married Carter, but that didn’t mean I had to feel anything.

  But I do feel something for Carter, and that terrifies me.

  Chapter 7. Rhys

  What did I do?

  Marcella ran off at the mention of the photos. Why?

  Listening at the door, I hear her sobs. I feel like an ass for causing her pain, even though I’m not yet sure how I caused it.

  “I’m coming in, Marcella.”

  She doesn’t bother to yell at me. She’s been crying like this for almost an hour, and I’ve waited outside the entire time.

  Opening the door, I find her shaking, face pressed into a pillow. I sit down beside her and rub her back. “Can we talk?”

  She cries harder.

  “Let’s start with the earlier question: who is the man in the photos?”

  She muffles something into the pillow.

  “What was that?”

  “He was my first husband.”

  I don’t like the idea of someone else having her, but I’m not surprised. It’s expected with her profession.

  “What happened? A divorce?” I don’t suspect that. She’d have taken the photos down if they split.

  “He died in Iraq on a mission.”

  I kiss the middle of her back followed by the top of her head, “I’m sorry. You’re crying because he’s dead?”

  “Yes…No…” She rolls onto her side. Tears pour down her cheeks making them blotchy and red. I want to kiss the tears away. “It’s…I haven’t been with a man since Rhys six years ago. Rhys Montgomery was his name.”

  “Rhys? Like me?”

  “I didn’t know your name until after I saw you in the office,” she sobs. “He’s gone, but
the day of his funeral I promised him I wouldn’t be with another man. You make me want to break that promise.”

  “You feel something for me?”

  Her huge crocodile tears increase, falling onto the collar of her nightdress. “Yes, it’s silly, crazy even. I’ve known you for five weeks. How can I feel this way?”

  “It’s possible because I feel the same. I love you, Marcella.”

  She sits up, sniffling. “You love me? But I’m your boss.”

  “You’re my wife, and if you’re willing, I’d like to make you mine completely.”

  She smiles through her tears.

  “Tonight. For today, I want you to go out. Get a pretty dress and stay out until dinner time. Alright? When you get back, I’ll have a surprise.”

  “Ok.”

  “But first we need to get you washed up, and I’m going to help.” Picking her up, I throw her over my shoulder. She screams, and I smack her ass, eliciting another little yelp.

  I don’t set her down on her feet until I plug the tub and turn the water on. To my surprise, she reaches for the bottom of my shirt and tugs it over my head.

  “You’re getting in with me. You could use a shave.” She says mischievously.

  “I could use a lot more than a shave.”

  She pokes me in the chest. She tries to frown at me, but it morphs into a smile. “Not until tonight, Mr. Carter. Behave yourself.”

  “I’ll behave a little, but I want to see those breasts and pussy now.”

  “Look no touch? What is the fun in that?”

  “Because, beautiful, it will make you hornier tonight.”

  Chapter 8. The Madam

  I return from my outing in town hours later. Rhys told me not to back before five, so I got my hair and nails done and went shopping. I picked out a pretty burgundy dress and already changed into it at the shop. I also dropped in at the office, but since I married Carter, I’ve been leaving more of the business in Mrs. Dodds capable hands.

  When I enter the penthouse, I’m met by soft, classical music and the smell of fresh cut roses. A pathway made of rose petals and LED candles leads the way to the bedroom.

  “Marcella, that you?” Carter’s voice comes from the bedroom.

  Following the path, I set down my shopping bags and open the door to the bedroom. My hand flies to my mouth as I take in the sight before me.

  Carter is on his knees, a ring between his fingers.

  “We’re married, but not really. It was all a business arrangement. I’d like that to change. I’ve never met anyone like you and will never stop loving you. You’ve shown me how to love someone beyond what I thought capable. So, Marcella, would you be my wife for real this time?”

  Happy tears come to my eyes. I can’t imagine being without him. It’s all been fast and sudden and strange, but deep down I love him. I loved my Rhys, but he’d want me to be happy. I’m more than happy with Carter.

  “Yes,” I answer.

  Placing the ring on my finger, he sweeps me off my feet and sets me on the bed. He unzips my dress, kissing me on the lips, the cheeks, the neck, as he does so, every kiss moving lower to his final destination.

  “Are you sure about this? I want you to love me, but I’ll never force you to forget your first husband. I know he meant a lot to you.”

  “I’m not forgetting him. I’m moving on.” My Rhys is probably up in Heaven smiling. He was always protective, but he wanted me content. His silly clause brought happiness to my door that otherwise, I’d have never found.

  I push all those thoughts and my past far, far away as Carter lifts my dress over my head. I shimmy a little to get out of it as it clings tightly in all the right places.

  He raises an eyebrow as he takes in my fancy lingerie. I purposely wore one of the lacy, virtually see through corsets I own as well as matching underwear.

  “I’m a madam, Carter. I have a lot of lingerie like this.”

  He grabs my hips and places me in his lap my back against his chest as he sits down beside me. “Anyone else other than privileged Montgomery and I get to see this?”

  “Never. Even Montgomery didn’t get to see me in this one.”

  He kisses my shoulder. “Good.”

  Standing, I turn and straddle his lap so that I face him. He works at the hooks on the front of the corset while I unbutton his pants. He’s gone full out tonight in a dress shirt, tie, and slacks. I’ve only seen him in jeans.

  He’s hard even before I touch him. He groans into my neck as I stroke him, freeing his length from his boxers.

  “God, what you do to me.” His voice is low and husky and sends shivers down to my center.

  He pulls my hand away a moment later. “I want to cum inside you tonight, Mrs. Carter.”

  Placing me on my back, he slides my underwear off, only stopping to nibble my thigh to hear me squeal.

  “I love to look at that pussy,” he says, almost in awe, as he runs his fingers through the soft patch of fuzz there. “It looks like you’re already wet for me, Scarlet.”

  I don’t bother to tell him that I’ve been wet pretty much since I met him. He has that effect on me.

  He runs a finger across my clit, producing more wetness. “I was going to let you come then take you. Perhaps I should just take you before you make your own little puddle.”

  I giggle at his crude joke. “Only you make me do this.”

  “I know, and I freaking love it,” he growls, positioning himself over me. With one thrust he’s inside me, and all the pain and grief of my past seems to melt away.

  He kisses each of my breasts as he picks up his rhythm, one of his hands rubbing my already sensitive clit. “Come for me, my beautiful,” he says, bending to suck one of my breasts.

  I cry out his name, and before long we come together.

  He pulls me back onto his lap, barely giving me time to recover from my orgasm. “Let’s see if we can make that magic happen again.”

  “Already?”

  “Not ready, my madam?”

  I wiggle on his lap. “If it’s a challenge, I’m ready.”

  One of his fingers trails down my spine to my behind. With a grin I’ve come to love, he parts my butt cheeks, running a finger between them.

  “I think I’ll save that part of you until the honeymoon, but I’ll take more of that pussy right now,” he says.

  I don’t know what my future holds, but I know I will never, ever tire of my Carter.

  Epilogue: Rhys

  Two Years Later:

  Our baby girl laughs as I make funny noises with one of her stuffed elephants. Our little girl has loved elephants since the first moment she saw them at the zoo.

  She was born nine months after her mommy and I renewed our vows, this time with Marcella in a white dress and all our family and friends present. We had the ceremony in Cancún and had our honeymoon there.

  Marcella and I suspect it was one of those sleepless nights that gave us our baby girl. I fucked Marcella enough times she stayed sore most of the trip, not that she complained, though.

  Marcella walks by, pausing to kiss me, followed by a kiss on our daughter’s forehead. “Somebody’s happy today,” she muses.

  As if in response, our little girl squeals, grinning widely at both of us. She turns her attention to her elephant, and I seize the moment to squeeze her mommy’s ass.

  “Somebody else is going to be very happy tonight,” I whisper in Marcella’s ear.

  Marcella gives me her mischievously smile, hinting at the many nights passed and yet to come.

  About The Author

  ARIA M. GRAY has written numerous titles under another name but decided to write something dirtier and naughtier than her other stories. She's snarky, sarcastic, and always a sap for a good romance, and she makes sure almost all her romances end Happily Ever After (if they don't, she'll warn you.) When she's not writing, she can be found curled up in a chair reading or daydreaming, waiting for her Prince Charming to find her. She believes her prince go
t lost along the way, so point him in her direction if you happen to see him.

  Learn more about Aria at http://authorariamgray.weebly.com

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