The Mistress
Page 33
Marie-Laure tossed the towel onto the floor and sat back on her legs.
“I understand,” Nora said. Marie-Laure nodded at Damon, who let Nora go. He stepped back again, and Nora swallowed air with renewed gratitude for every unencumbered breath.
“Good. Now let’s talk about this fiancé of yours.” Marie-Laure returned to the head of the bed. She propped herself up on the pillows and let her diaphanous robe frame her like an unfurled fan. “And stop pretending that you don’t care about him. I know otherwise. I’ve read your file. Kingsley described your young man as your only weakness. I would love to know what he meant by that. Especially since you seem comprised entirely of weaknesses.”
“I don’t know what he meant by that, either. Like you said, Wes is one of many weaknesses.”
“Younger men are a weakness of yours?”
“Kind of. I have a little soft spot for virgin boys. All that untapped potential makes a girl want to, you know, tap that.”
“So it’s merely sexual?”
“Not entirely. Although that’s a big part of it,” Nora said without apology.
“Is it? Have you been with a lot of virgin boys?”
“A few.”
“I’d love a number.”
Nora clenched her jaw again but repressed the urge to say something which would no doubt get her in death’s crosshairs again. Taking a deep breath, she reflected on her past as ghosts of long-ago nights flitted across her mind’s eyes.
Bram...a seventeen-year-old male submissive who Kingsley had introduced her to.
Alex...age eighteen, barely eighteen.
Noah...one of Wes’s friends from Yorke. She didn’t know they were friends until after Wesley had moved in. She suffered a couple of sleepless nights wondering if Noah would tell Wes about the night he’d spent tied to her headboard.
And, of course, her angel, Michael. Age fifteen. A gift from Søren, who knew about her weakness and had decided to put it to better use than simply getting her off.
“Five, counting Wesley. Enough for a pattern, not enough for a fetish.”
“Five. Impressive. Actual virgins?”
“Every last one of them. If we’re talking kink virgins, you’d have to triple the number.”
“No guilt at all?”
“None. Okay, maybe a little but only with Alex.”
“Alex?”
“He was the son of this bitchy book reviewer. Totally blasted my first book. Called all my lovely kinksters ‘sick’ and ‘abusive.’ So I got my payback by sickly abusing her youngest all night long.”
“And you felt guilty about that?”
“Not the sex. The note I sent Mom the next day.”
“You sent his mother a note after you seduced her son? What did it say?”
“It said...” Nora began, and paused for a breath. Not one of her prouder moments. “It said, ‘Your son gave me five stars last night. And five fingers.’”
“You’re smiling.”
“I’m trying so hard to feel bad about it. I swear to God I am.”
“You amaze me. Why all the virgins? They have no idea what they’re doing.”
“I had such an amazing first time that I like giving that experience to other people. Better than five minutes in the back of a Buick, right?”
“How altruistic of you.”
“I’m a giver.”
“And my husband doesn’t mind that? Doesn’t mind you cuckolding him left and right with other men?”
“Did you say cuckolding? I didn’t know people still said that.”
“It sounded more polite than calling you a slut and whore who’ll spread for anyone who pays you the slightest bit of attention.”
“Look, in my world slut is a term of endearment. Why do I have to keep explaining this to people? You’re going to have to find a new name if you want to actually hurt my feelings. Telling me I’ve had too much sex is about as insulting as telling me I’m too thin.”
“I’m simply stating the facts, not trying to insult you.”
“Fine, then. Here are the facts. The vanilla mind has a little trouble grasping these facts, but you’re going to have to trust me that I know what I’m talking about. Søren loves me and he loves what I am. He takes pleasure in my pleasure. He no more begrudges me enjoying myself sexually with someone else than he’d begrudge me going out for a nice meal with a friend. Sex is sustenance to me. He’d rather I eat than starve.”
“You say that and yet you lived with your young fiancé for over a year without...feeding on him.”
“I’m capable of some self-control on rare occasion. Wesley wasn’t a virgin because he hadn’t gotten around to getting laid yet. He was a virgin because he wanted to wait for someone special. He has a different philosophy of sex than I do. I didn’t share it, but I respected it.”
Marie-Laure sighed and shook her head.
“Fascinating...” she said again.
“What is?”
“Your capacity for self-justification and rationalization.”
“If it were an Olympic sport, I’d medal.”
“No doubt. I have to say after that speech about my husband’s love for you that I can’t quite understand why you’re so drawn to a young man with whom you have so little in common. Not only drawn to him, but you agreed to marry him.”
“I understand,” Nora said. Marie-Laure nodded at Damon, who let Nora go. He stepped back again, and Nora swallowed air with renewed gratitude for every unencumbered breath.
“Good. Now let’s talk about this fiancé of yours.” Marie-Laure returned to the head of the bed. She propped herself up on the pillows and let her diaphanous robe frame her like an unfurled fan. “And stop pretending that you don’t care about him. I know otherwise. I’ve read your file. Kingsley described your young man as your only weakness. I would love to know what he meant by that. Especially since you seem comprised entirely of weaknesses.”
“I don’t know what he meant by that, either. Like you said, Wes is one of many weaknesses.”
“Younger men are a weakness of yours?”
“Kind of. I have a little soft spot for virgin boys. All that untapped potential makes a girl want to, you know, tap that.”
“So it’s merely sexual?”
“Not entirely. Although that’s a big part of it,” Nora said without apology.
“Is it? Have you been with a lot of virgin boys?”
“A few.”
“I’d love a number.”
Nora clenched her jaw again but repressed the urge to say something which would no doubt get her in death’s crosshairs again. Taking a deep breath, she reflected on her past as ghosts of long-ago nights flitted across her mind’s eyes.
Bram...a seventeen-year-old male submissive who Kingsley had introduced her to.
Alex...age eighteen, barely eighteen.
Noah...one of Wes’s friends from Yorke. She didn’t know they were friends until after Wesley had moved in. She suffered a couple of sleepless nights wondering if Noah would tell Wes about the night he’d spent tied to her headboard.
And, of course, her angel, Michael. Age fifteen. A gift from Søren, who knew about her weakness and had decided to put it to better use than simply getting her off.
“Five, counting Wesley. Enough for a pattern, not enough for a fetish.”
“Five. Impressive. Actual virgins?”
“Every last one of them. If we’re talking kink virgins, you’d have to triple the number.”
“No guilt at all?”
“None. Okay, maybe a little but only with Alex.”
“Alex?”
“He was the son of this bitchy book reviewer. Totally blasted my first book. Called all my lovely kinksters ‘sick’ and ‘abusive.’ So I got my payback by sickly abusing her youngest all night long.”
“And you felt guilty about that?”
“Not the sex. The note I sent Mom the next day.”
“You sent his mother a note after you seduced her son? What did it say?”
“It said...” Nora began, and paused for a breath. Not one of her prouder moments. “It said, ‘Your son gave me five stars last night. And five fingers.’”
“You’re smiling.”
“I’m trying so hard to feel bad about it. I swear to God I am.”
“You amaze me. Why all the virgins? They have no idea what they’re doing.”
“I had such an amazing first time that I like giving that experience to other people. Better than five minutes in the back of a Buick, right?”
“How altruistic of you.”
“I’m a giver.”
“And my husband doesn’t mind that? Doesn’t mind you cuckolding him left and right with other men?”
“Did you say cuckolding? I didn’t know people still said that.”
“It sounded more polite than calling you a slut and whore who’ll spread for anyone who pays you the slightest bit of attention.”
“Look, in my world slut is a term of endearment. Why do I have to keep explaining this to people? You’re going to have to find a new name if you want to actually hurt my feelings. Telling me I’ve had too much sex is about as insulting as telling me I’m too thin.”
“I’m simply stating the facts, not trying to insult you.”
“Fine, then. Here are the facts. The vanilla mind has a little trouble grasping these facts, but you’re going to have to trust me that I know what I’m talking about. Søren loves me and he loves what I am. He takes pleasure in my pleasure. He no more begrudges me enjoying myself sexually with someone else than he’d begrudge me going out for a nice meal with a friend. Sex is sustenance to me. He’d rather I eat than starve.”
“You say that and yet you lived with your young fiancé for over a year without...feeding on him.”
“I’m capable of some self-control on rare occasion. Wesley wasn’t a virgin because he hadn’t gotten around to getting laid yet. He was a virgin because he wanted to wait for someone special. He has a different philosophy of sex than I do. I didn’t share it, but I respected it.”
Marie-Laure sighed and shook her head.
“Fascinating...” she said again.
“What is?”
“Your capacity for self-justification and rationalization.”
“If it were an Olympic sport, I’d medal.”
“No doubt. I have to say after that speech about my husband’s love for you that I can’t quite understand why you’re so drawn to a young man with whom you have so little in common. Not only drawn to him, but you agreed to marry him.”
