Maison Plaisir Page 6
“Good?” he inquired.
Belle answered with a tiny nod.
“Fucking unbelievable.” Hervé grunted and shifted fully on top of her, bracing one arm next to her head. “Look at me when I fuck you. I want to see your pretty face when you come.” He lifted her left thigh for better access and positioned himself at her opening. He made an experimental thrust.
She gasped. The feminine panic blared underneath her mind. He’s not going to fit. He’s too big. He’s…
Hervé growled and thrust.
He speared her open with his cock. Her cunt yielded and accepted him whole. That fat, thick cock plunged into her depths with one smooth stroke.
Belle was out of breath.
Hervé groaned. “So tight, love. So fucking tight.”
Belle panted. She felt as if she’d been split in half. After the brief initial pain passed, a surge of pleasure cocooned her. Hervé pulled slightly and thrust again as if he was looking for a deeper penetration. His balls slapped her perineum. His pubis ground against her clit. His shaft throbbed in her depths, so damnably hot and wickedly good.
He moved. Small pulls and thrusts, fucking her cautiously. Then he quickened his pace when he saw her panting in ecstasy. “Watch me when you come. I don’t want to miss anything.”
But I’m almost coming, she thought deliriously. His generous girth had hit all her sensitive nerves in her vagina, including her G-spot. A few rubs and she was a goner. A wave of freak pleasure hit her and sent her reeling to oblivion, followed by a gushing warm flood from her pussy.
“Ah,” Hervé sighed happily. “I feel you. Love your juicy pussy.”
He pounded again and Belle clung to him, nails digging on his half-shed shirt. She was hit by a mini-climax every two-dozen strokes and soon she felt lightheaded.
Hervé fucked her relentlessly. After her sixth or seventh orgasm in a row, he gripped her hair and slammed a few-dozen strokes until Belle was claimed by the mother of all orgasms that made the world fade from her view. He kept pounding her until he finally tensed and jerked, ejaculating. Hervé shuddered. Warm liquid bathed her channel.
Belle was drifting to slumberland when he disengaged from her. His half-hard cock slipped out.
Hervé rose and sat up. He shrugged off his jacket. His shirt followed. Watching her sprawled, he smiled and patted the side of her thigh. “Don’t sleep, yet, love. That one was only an appetiser. I’m now ready for my main course.”
Main course… Oh, God. Belle watched him muzzily.
He kissed her on the lips. “You certainly don’t think you can finish me in one setting, do you? Like I told you before, I love sex.”
Heat flushed her cheeks. This man was insatiable.
Armand realised he’d been duped when he woke up this morning. He’d stirred in his own bed, feeling sluggish and with no recollection of the previous night. The last thing he remembered was having tea at Lucille’s. He recalled bumping into Pierre Vought, an old friend of the family, and then having a little chitchat. Everything went blurred from there. Keeping his eyes open was a chore.
It dawned on him he’d been knocked out with a sleeping potion. When he inquired with Jacques, his butler, he told him he was worried when the owner of Lucille’s and her servants hauled Armand home unconscious. The butler thought Armand was simply drunk and moved him to his bed to sleep it off. There was only one person who’d employ such a devious tactic to get Armand off his back. They were both chasing the same thing.
Hervé.
His cousin had sabotaged his date with Belle. Fury wasn’t even close to describing what he was feeling right now. Armand wanted to choke Hervé and tear him limb from limb. Maybe feed whatever was left of him to wild dogs, too.
Armand stormed from his palace and through the barrier, into the human world. He had an idea where Hervé might be. Like Uncle Isaac, Hervé was fond of the human world and actually owned some residences. One was on the outskirts of Chicago.
He popped out of thin air in Hervé’s front yard, trying to catch his scent. Hervé’s place was plagued with silence. Armand strode to the front doors and sieved himself through them. Hervé was home, all right. Judging from his scent, Armand guessed his cousin was in his bedroom.
Armand paused when he caught Belle’s scent as well. His fury turned to rage. Clenching his fists, he leapt and materialised on the second floor. With a wave of his hand, he broke into Hervé’s room. What he saw in there made his blood boil. Belle was in Hervé’s bed and seemed naked underneath the coverlet, while his cousin leant next to her, stroking her hair, watching her sleeping.
Hervé turned his head in Armand’s direction. He narrowed his eyes. A heartbeat later, Hervé leapt from the bed and flew towards Armand, driving him out of the bedroom.
The doors snapped shut behind them. Armand’s back hit the wall of the corridor with Hervé’s hand planted on his neck.
His cousin hissed. “Do you want to wake her up, moron?”
Armand gritted his teeth. He threw Hervé with such force that his cousin flew across the hall and shattered the antique vase on the stand behind him. Armand charged to him with vehemence. Hervé recovered quickly and met his assault. His cousin deflected Armand’s blow, but Armand was able to grab Hervé’s collar at the very last second. They were both hurled out of the windows and into the garden. Glass and splinters flew everywhere.
Armand repelled Hervé’s clutch and landed on his feet. “I’m going to kick your ass, you son of a bitch. You know she’s mine.” He summoned his powers to levitate an angel statue and catapulted it at Hervé.
A tornado of seven-hundred-pound carved marble zoomed to Hervé. He dodged it easily. The statue hit the gazebo with a loud boom and broke into a dozen pieces.
“Careful who you call bitch. It happens to be the queen, remember?” Hervé sneered. He vanished and reappeared on the peak of the mansion’s roof.
The ground beneath Armand’s feet shook. He bounded upwards a moment before trees, bushes, fences and everything within twenty feet uprooted and stormed to where he was standing. He’d have been skewered had he reacted a tad late.
Hervé cursed and propelled towards him. Armand welcomed him halfway. They met in mid-air, with hands clamped on each other’s necks, a stalemate. Their powers were equal.
“Back off. Belle’s mine.” Armand tightened his grip.
Hervé gasped. He choked Armand harder in return. “Never.”
Armand gurgled and let go his chokehold. “Don’t you think you’re being selfish? I saw her first.”
Hervé coughed. “Selfish? You’re the one who’s being selfish, cousin. You didn’t let me compete for her fairly. I let you win Minette before. Now it’s my turn.”
“You fuck a new girl every week. She’s not one of your easy-to-get games. Go find somebody else.”
“I fell in love with her!” Hervé glimpsed at the balcony. “Shit.”
Armand saw Belle had been watching their fight in disbelief. She was clad only in a bed sheet. Her face paled. “Oh, fuck.” Armand descended to the ground. Belle had caught them red-handed.
Hervé followed suit. “You ruin everything. Happy now?”
Armand brushed past his cousin and walked to the mansion. Hervé’s staff had pooled by the terrace. It seemed they’d been watching their fight the whole time.
“Armand!”
He ignored Hervé’s call. Armand wanted to straighten everything with Belle. Just as he entered the drawing room, he saw her running towards the front door. Her dress was half-zipped and she was only wearing one shoe. The other was in her hand.
“Back off!” she shrieked when Armand was about to come to her.
“Belle…”
Belle was totally freaked out. “Stay where you are. Don’t come any closer.”
Hervé materialised next to Armand. “Belle…”
She screamed, watching his cousin come out of nowhere. “Leave me alone!” She yanked the front door open and fled.
“Bel
le!” Armand wanted to run after her, but Hervé halted him.
“It’s no use. Give her time to cool off. You’ll scare her even more if you chase her right now.”
Armand paused. His cousin was right. Humans weren’t accustomed to seeing supernatural beings like them out in the open. Belle needed some time to sort things out. He whirled around and jabbed a finger in Hervé’s chest. “This is all your fault!”
Chapter Five
As soon as she had bounded from the taxi and stormed into her apartment, Belle locked her front door in haste. Her hands trembled. She bolted to her bedroom and locked that door as well. She slumped by the foot of her bed. A cold chill numbed her.
God. Who are Armand and Hervé? Ordinary people don’t just levitate and wreak havoc at whim. She’d been awakened by a loud boom and crashes and men shouting. She’d thought it was an earthquake when her bed shook violently. When she took a peek at the balcony, she saw Hervé and Armand fighting, trying to kill each other with their psychic power.
She couldn’t really discern what she saw. Psychic-that was the best way to describe it. People didn’t just hover in mid-air and make things fly with simple hand gestures.
God. What had she got herself into? She’d slept with men who clearly weren’t ordinary humans.
Human.
Belle blinked. It occurred to her Madame Chabert had called her human the first time she saw her. Hervé said something about smelling human scent when he found her in Maison Plaisir.
Human. She was human. They weren’t
What the hell were they?
Belle had been a logical person her entire life. She hadn’t believed in the tooth fairy, elves, and even Santa Claus when she was little. But what she’d witnessed couldn’t be explained with any science she knew.
Belle pinched herself until her skin turned blue. Hurt like hell too. No. She wasn’t dreaming. Everything was real.
Groggily, she hoisted herself onto the bed and curled up, until exhausted from thinking, she dozed off. When she woke up, it had turned dark outside. She pulled herself together and took a long shower to clear her mind. Still, everything didn’t make sense. Belle made a sandwich and was about to eat it when her doorbell rang.
She peered through the peek hole. Her heart raced. Armand and Hervé stood by her front door.
“Belle.” Armand’s voice seeped through the door. “We know you’re in there. We just want to talk.”
Belle inhaled a sharp breath.
“We mean you no harm, love,” Hervé’s voice called this time. “You know, we could easily pop into your apartment. I thought we could settle this misunderstanding civilly. Please, open the door.”
Damn. He was right. She couldn’t avoid them forever. Sooner or later, she must face them.
Belle gathered her courage and unlocked her door. She thought she was going to faint when she opened it. Two men who had been her lovers in the past couple of days stood by her threshold, staring at her with great dismay. “Who are you?” she asked sharply.
“Well, love, I’m Hervé and this asshole is my cousin, Armand.”
“I know what your names are,” she snapped. “I mean, what are you?”
“May we come in? Please, Belle? We need to talk,” Armand pleaded.
Belle gulped. “What are you?” Ghosts? Demons? Mutants? After what she’d witnessed today, she wasn’t sure about anything anymore. She started to question her sanity. Everything looked so…surreal. Belle jabbed a finger on Armand’s arm. He was solid. Not just a figment of her imagination. Just to make sure, Belle pinched Armand’s arm as hard as she could.
Armand flinched. “That hurts, you know?”
He was real. And Hervé must be too. She immediately ruled out the ghost theory.
“Answer my question! What the hell are you?”
“We’re fae from Seventh Realm,” Hervé answered.
It took her a long second to digest what Hervé had said. What the hell was fae? “You mean fairy? Shouldn’t you be five inches tall, living in a big tree and baking cookies?”
Both men looked offended.
“That’s an elf, and not even the real elves look like that. You watch too many commercials,” Hervé said. “Please, love, we just want to talk. Give us a chance to explain everything.”
Belle shook her head. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“It’s only fair, Belle. Please?” Armand pleaded.
“No. I need some time alone.”
“Belle,” Hervé protested.
“Please. Just go. I need to think.” Belle slammed the door and collapsed. Her heart was pounding so hard, she thought she’d have a heart attack any second. She waited to see if either Armand or Hervé would barge in uninvited. They didn’t.
“Very well, love.” Hervé’s voice was muffled by the door. “We’ll talk when you’re ready.”
Then, silence. A minute passed. Belle continued waiting. They were really gone.
Thank God.
Belle dragged herself from the door and into the kitchen. Her gaze drifted to the sandwich on the counter. She didn’t feel hungry anymore. She threw it to the trash can and padded to the bathroom.
I need a long bath. Maybe I’ll feel better afterwards.
Hervé peered outside his window through the sheer blinds. The construction crew had begun cleaning the damage in the backyard. Yesterday’s fight with Armand had provoked enquiry from his neighbours and the police. Luckily his staff were able to ward off everyone’s inquisitiveness with a simple spell and send them on their way.
“Do you realise my house insurance rate will go up because of this?” he scolded his cousin, who was nursing a glass of bourbon near the fireplace.
“Sue me,” Armand answered testily. “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t stolen her from me.”
“And I wouldn’t have stolen her from you if you’d let me compete against you fairly.”
Armand snorted. “Why her?”
“Like I told you, I fell in love with her. She’s special.”
“I need a wife, Hervé. The Crown has been pressuring me for the last couple of years. Especially your mother. It would be nice to get her off my back.”
“But do you love her? Or did you just want a quick fix for your situation?”
“I do love her.”
“And so do I.”
“You change bed-mates like you change your bed sheets. Just this one. Let me have her. You’re one of the Crown’s heirs. I don’t think your mother would approve of you taking a human mate.”
Hervé ground his teeth. “Fat chance. I. Want. Her.”
Armand stiffened. The glass in his hand exploded, sending shards of tiny crystal and alcohol to the floor.
“Are we going to fight again? You know it’s useless.”
He knew Armand like the back of his hand. They’d been born at the same hour, the same second in Chantrarae Palace. But the duchess died right after she gave birth to his cousin, and Duke Shah, unable to recover from his loss, abandoned Armand and his fief to live a hermitic life in the freezing mountains of Elangour. Her mother, the Queen, then raised Armand as one of her own.
They’d gone to the same training when they were young. Same school. Same teacher. They shared everything and were best friends. Except when they were being competitive. Since they were much alike, they began to take an interest in the same girls. That was when their friendship had started to crumble to the point they could barely tolerate each other. Their relationship deteriorated when they entered into a rite of Vraelda that marked the end of their youth and the beginning of their adulthood. The Council Elders had dropped them in the middle of the Elangour wildness, where they had to use their fighting skills and magic to obtain The Queen of the Night, a rare night-blooming flower that only blossomed at a specific time in Seventh Realm, as the trophy of their success.
For seven nights and days, they tore through many obstacles and headed to the peak of Elangour. When they finally reached there, a
t the verge of exhaustion, there was only one Queen of the Night for them to claim. There was supposed to be two. Hervé and Armand raced to it and touched their trophy at the same time.
The Council Elders thought it was fate. They were convinced Hervé and Armand were born from one soul. However, their Gods had a plan for them, and instead, they were born through two different women. It was no surprise they always thought alike and desired the same things. And since they held the same trophy, it was impossible for them to harm each other.
Hervé thought this whole thing was a joke. For decades, he tried to be different from his cousin. But he ended up crossing paths with Armand again and again. Especially regarding their love life.
He’d fallen in love with a fae princess before, Minette Kasim from the Fifth Realm. But Armand had also loved her. Hervé surrendered his claim because he wanted his cousin to be happy. Besides, Armand had an obligation to take over the dukedom, and without a wife, Armand could never officially be allowed his title according to Seventh Realm’s law.
Minette died before Armand could marry her. His cousin had been heartbroken. They became close friends again until their daily routines had made them drift apart once more. They collided on their paths the night they saw Belle in Maison Plaisir.
Armand paced around the drawing room. “What do you propose to our problem?”
“I’d say we should let her choose.”
His cousin gave him a hard stare.
“We compete fair and square. Whoever she chooses wins.”
Armand fell into silence. “What dirty tricks are you planning this time?”
“None. It’ll be my personal triumph if I can win her fair and square from you.”
“You wish.”
“Let’s see about that, shall we?”
It had been three days since she found Armand and Hervé playing the Incredible Hulk at each other, and she still couldn’t get over how unnerving her shock had been. Belle jumped each time she heard somebody knock at the door, or when her phone rang. At the office, she could control her jumpiness by drowning herself in work. But when she was alone in her apartment, the thought she had slept with men who weren’t exactly human made her nerves hang on tenterhooks. She was scared, curious, flattered, and angry. She didn’t know what to feel anymore.