Chapter 5 #2
Most people who went to the Manoir probably did so to relax. Certainly, that was Miquela’s original plan. Then she found herself becoming more agitated as the altitude increased. She pulled over again to use her phone. Not to call Aimee back, but to call the madam of the Manoir.
“I want her waiting for me in her room,” she snapped once Monique recognized her voice, “and tell her I’m making good on her promise from the last time we met.”
“Very well.” Madams. They always sounded so unbothered. “I will inform her. When you arrive, please meet me in the Receiving Room. A maid will show you the way.”
She didn’t need a welcoming maid, but Miquela went ahead and used up the last of her manners when she arrived at the Manoir and followed the usual song and dance of handing over her traveling coat and nodding to the maid who greeted her instead of June.
“This way, ma’am,” she said. Miquela practically overtook her when she opened the Receiving Room door.
Monique instantly caught on to her mood. “I won’t keep you, Ms. Bolivar. I have a form for you to sign. June told me what you had intended to do the next time you met.”
Good. She glanced over the rules for a BDSM encounter and slapped her signature on it. “Thanks. I trust you received my new bid?”
She did not smile. “Yes. Thank you for your continued patronage, Ms. Bolivar. Both June and I hope that you remain happy here.”
Don’t get me started. Miquela didn’t accept a drink or shake Monique’s hand. She went straight upstairs to June’s unlocked bedroom door – which she would soon be locking. No eavesdroppers tonight.
Hell. The little brat could eavesdrop all she wanted. Neither Holly nor Serene would be able to seduce her as long as she was smitten with June Kingsley, the queen of the heart surging like a fucking tsunami in Miquela’s chest.
Heavy incense burned in the dimly lit bedroom. It was the same as the first time she came to the Manoir… when her life was turned upside down by this woman, of all people.
She was supposed to have a fun time, that was all. Maybe the favorite go-to girl in the area. June was never, ever meant to be anything more than what Miquela paid her to be.
Yet when she saw her kneeling on her bed behind that sheer curtain, hair down, skin soft, and demeanor so demure that she looked like a new woman… Miquela understood why she was so infatuated with her. There was no helping it. She was perfect.
“Good evening,” she greeted, voice soft and pure. I don’t buy she’s pure for one second. Miquela didn’t want pure, anyway. She wanted experienced and willing. “I trust that you are well this evening… ma’am?”
Had any woman ever said that word so delicately before?
Stop it. Stop making me become someone I haven’t been in a long time.
Miquela refused. Both because she was a woman of logical principle, and with the reassurance that June was merely playing a game with her.
A game that would get her paid… the most money Miquela had yet to put in her hand.
BDSM with one of these women did not come cheap.
She pulled back the curtain and bit her tongue.
There June was, clad in the most tantalizing black negligee Miquela had ever seen.
Not just sheer or lace. Floral appliques covered her mound and nipples, as well as decorated this patch and that fold.
For the most part, she was naked, wearing nothing but some black lace over her torso and on top of her hips and thighs.
No underwear. The way she knelt, with her hands in her lap and her eyes pointed toward Miquela, made her almost swallow that tongue she bit.
“I’m fine,” she mumbled.
“You look so tense.” June crawled forward, her cleavage on full display beneath Miquela’s gaze. “There must be something I can do for you.” Her fingers grazed Miquela’s zipper, but did not pull it down. Not without permission. “Say the word. I am yours to command tonight.”
War raged within Miquela. She came in here determined to simply use her.
To pay for June’s services – and to keep her mouth shut, if it wasn’t moaning or pleasing someone.
She was going to prove to herself and the world that June was nothing more than a convenient, gorgeous body for her to use as she saw fit.
After all, Miquela paid for her time and efforts.
There was supposed to be nothing more to it than that.
On the other side lurked an army declaring its intentions to put many things to rest. Not just sex. All the junk Miquela had stored in the back of her mind for the better part of a decade.
These women were therapists, in their own way.
Thing was, most of the people they encountered only wanted sexual therapy.
Or for them to stay quiet while they worked through their own issues – bodies entwined, of course.
Miquela couldn’t blame them. How many times had she paid to be with a woman and used that rush to clear her head and refocus on whatever business was at hand?
“Hold on.” She grabbed June’s wrist with one hand and pushed her hair back with the other. Fingers drew lines along her jaw, tipping her chin up and making her stare at her with parted lips. “Not so fast. I want to talk first.”
Had anyone said that to her before? The way June gaped at her said a hearty no.
“What would you like to talk about, ma’am?” she asked. Any trace of surprise was gone from her visage. “My ears are open.”
Probably other things were open as well. Miquela distracted herself with a touch to her cheek before succumbing to what was on her mind. “Do you want me, June? Tell me the truth. Am I a client to you? Or do you want more from me?”
She cocked her head, lips twitching. What am I doing to her? June played the submissive easily enough tonight, but inside, she was probably exploding in “What the fuck is this?” Miquela was turning into a nightmare client. Great. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, do you want me to be your patron? More than the other bidding on you.”
The real June came back. She sat back on her legs, ignoring Miquela’s gaze.
“I cannot help it. I’ve never seen it go on for this long…
I’ve never had two people want me as badly as you two do.
Most give up after three rounds of bidding.
Either it’s not worth the money, or they realize how silly the whole thing seems.”
“Do you get a choice? Could you tell your madam that you have a preference?”
“Of course I can.” She narrowed her eyes. “You think she hasn’t asked my preference?”
Naturally, she has. Whoever the other woman was, she apparently could compete in terms of money and class.
Even if the other woman was as rich as Miquela – doubtful, honestly – Monique would have overrode a bid if she was a potential nuisance.
I wonder if she’s local. Was that preferable to someone who wouldn’t even be around for half the month?
“Forgive me. I shouldn’t intrude like that. ”
June’s face softened again. “Look, Miquela, I like you. A lot. You’re one of the best clients I’ve ever had… and there have been…”
“A lot. I know.” Miquela was unfazed. “That other woman must be one of the best, too.”
June looked at the painting hanging above her dresser. “She made that for me. She’s a painter. We became close because I modeled for her. Twice a week, she comes here and paints pictures of me.” Was she blushing? Was that pissing Miquela off?
I don’t. Get jealous. About their lives. Until she met June, Miquela was so laissez-faire about the other clients that she couldn’t believe she would be jealous. She hadn’t been jealous of Clivia and Serene, right? Right.
So why the fuck was June so different?
“She sounds like a tender and sensitive woman,” Miquela mumbled. “I think you’ve told me that before, though.”
“Probably.” June shrugged. “She’s almost the complete opposite of you. She lives a slowed-down life. She used to be a doctor. That makes her sound older than she is, though.”
A doctor? A doctor? Shit. “Promise me that you would be happy with that woman as your patron. If that’s the case, then I won’t sweat this whole thing. I’ll keep bidding until I can’t anymore, June, but that’s only because I…”
She stopped. They shared a fleeting look. They both knew what she wanted to say, and June was going to bite her lip to hold back whatever she wanted to burst from her mouth. “Let’s forget about that,” she said, taking Miquela’s hand. “Why don’t we do what you came here to.”
“You still want to do that?”
“Miquela, I have always wanted to do that with you.” Her salacious smile was back.
“You set it up, and I’ll get back into the headspace you crushed a few minutes ago.
Shouldn’t take me long. The way you barged in here all domineering…
fuck me, Miquela, but not before you make sure I know I belong to you tonight. ”
Belong. What a powerful, dangerous word.
You will belong to me. She studied the rings hanging above June’s bed, easy enough to ignore if one wasn’t into that.
Tonight, Miquela was. She rummaged through the chest at the end of the bed and found some leather straps to her liking.
Steel handcuffs. A large crop, in case her hand grew tired of spanking such tender flesh.
A ball gag. Silk blindfolds. She probably wouldn’t use all of these things tonight, but considering them made the anticipation grow in her gut. The things she would do…
June was back to acting the sweet submissive by the time Miquela had threaded the straps and connected them with the handcuffs.
She took off her jacket and draped it across the closed chest. Her necklace fell on top of the jacket.
June sat up on her knees and unbuttoned the top of Miquela’s dress shirt as she reached around and grabbed June’s ass.
“I’m going to ask you a lot of things tonight,” she whispered in her ear. “I don’t want you to lie. That’s important. Even if you don’t think I want to hear it, tell me the truth.”