Maison Plaisir (11 page)

And besides, she wasn’t sure if she was ready give up her safe, semi-hermetic life to take a leap of faith with one of them into the new unknown. What would happen if the marriage didn’t work? Could she get a divorce from a fae?

Her reverie was interrupted by the loud chime of bell. Suddenly, she noticed a small bell on their table. She hadn’t seen it before.

“Food’s coming,” Hervé noted, taking his elbows off the table.

Belle instinctively followed suit. Moments later, a delicious feast appeared before their eyes. Plate upon plate of steaming food filled the table. From savoury-looking meats dishes to fish, noodles, soup and rice, to mouth-watering desserts waiting to be sampled. “Are you trying to feed an army here?” she asked with a laugh.

Hervé smiled. “I just want you to try everything. We do have great food in Seventh Realm. Wait—”

He halted her when she was about to pick a scrumptious looking piece of what looked like chicken.

“I’ll feed you.”

“I can feed myself.”

“I know. But where’s the fun in that?” Hervé disappeared before her eyes and materialised beside her, curling an arm around her waist. “Try this first.” He grabbed a fork and stabbed it to a plate that was mounted with diced vegetables cooked in red sauce. “We call this
jenang
, one of my favourites. It’s sweet wintermelon and greens stewed in pheasant bits.”

Belle tried it. Hervé wasn’t kidding.
Jenang
was delicious. Sweet and salty flavours complimented each other, leaving her palate longing for more.

“Good?” Hervé inquired.

She nodded.

“Now, try this. Select
bufu
beef marinated in palm sugar and sautéed with special lingonberries. Oops.” Hervé had dropped a piece on her cleavage. “I’ll get that.”

Belle twitched when Hervé used his mouth to clean up the mess instead of a napkin. The sweep of his tongue made lust flare like fuel to a matchstick. “You deliberately did that,” she accused him.

“So?” Hervé acted all innocent. “Food tastes more delicious on a pretty woman.”

Belle rolled her eyes. Hervé continued fondling her while she sampled all the dishes he’d ordered. He paused every so often to give her mind-muddying kisses that made her forget her own name. By the time they got to dessert, she was shaking with burning arousal.

“Oh, Belle, I love watching you like this. Has anybody ever told you, you look even prettier when you’re horny?”

She took a swig of water from the glass. “Damn you.”

“Hmm. Lose your panties and I’ll give you a special dessert.”

“Are you kidding? In here?”

“Yes, in here. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been hard as rock since I kissed you on the street. Come on. I know you’re wet already.” To make matters worse, Hervé slipped his hand under her skirt and cupped her mound. “Oh yeah, wet. Just the way I like it.”

“Hervé!”

“Shh. Lose the panties now or you’ll regret it later.”

“Is that a threat, mister?”

“Hell, yes. Do you really want to go home bare-assed?”

“Oh fuck.”

“Language, young lady. But that’s exactly what I had in mind.”

With trembling hands, Belle hitched her skirt and pulled down her panties. They were soaked wet with her juices.

“Good girl. Now sit on my lap. I want to suck your nipples while I fuck you.”

Sweet mother of God. The thought of fucking in a public place made her even wetter. Delirious with need, Belle swung a leg over his hips and straddled him. Like he said, Hervé was hard. Rock hard. The bulge between his thighs was a bit intimidating. He unzipped his pants and released his erection. Her pussy clenched the moment their sex made contact.

Hervé hissed. “Let’s take this shirt off.”

“No.”

“Just a bit, love.” He freed the first two buttons of her shirt and pushed her bra up. “My. Those berries are practically begging to be sucked.” Hervé gave an experimental lick. “Mmm. Sweet. But more sweetness wouldn’t hurt.”

Belle watched him with wonder as Hervé dabbed his finger into the dessert fruit sauce and smeared it on her areola. Her heart lurched into her throat when he licked her nipple with gusto. Hervé was a man who truly enjoyed his dessert. She bit her lip and fisted his hair instinctively while Hervé trapped her hard bud between the roof of his mouth and his tongue, sucking her as if she was the sweetest substance in the world.

“Her…”

He grabbed her hips and penetrated her. The crown of his fat cock speared her open.

“…ve!” The rest of the word evaporated in her throat. Belle panted. Wide-eyed, she could do nothing but surrender when Hervé yanked her down until she was able to accept his whole erection.
Fuck.
She trembled. It took her long seconds to get used to being impaled by a cock his size. Her pussy quivered around his shaft. He was hot and hard. Mind-shatteringly, nerve-wreckingly good. She gushed juice luxuriously from the impact.

He let go of her nipple and threw her a savage grin. “I love it when you do that. I’ve barely fucked you and you’ve already creamed.”

She bit back the urge to yell when Hervé pounded her with short, rapid strokes. Shards of pleasure exploded in her depths. Scalded her. Burned. Until they engulfed her in one fiery blast of pure ecstasy. She came. Her body quaked, pussy squeezing him in a throat-crushing grip.

“Fuck.” Hervé couldn’t move. A laugh followed. He licked the side of her jaw and breathed out on her ear. “This is why I don’t want to lose you to Armand. But you aren’t just one hot fuck, Belle. I love the way you make me feel. Like no one ever has before.”

Her brain went to mush hearing his declaration.

“I love you, Belle. I really do.”

She yelped when all of a sudden, Hervé lifted her and pushed her to the side of the table, flat on her back. Her head hit the floor cushion as the ceiling of the nook filled her line of sight. Then, Hervé loomed, eyes burning with pure lust. He wrenched her thighs open and thrust inside her.

“Want you.” He pulled and thrust. “So fucking bad.”

Thrust.

“Not going to lose you to him.”

Pull.

“Going to make you mine. Whatever it takes.”

He growled and rained her with a series of rough, vicious fucks that made her mind scatter to oblivion. She gasped. Hervé plastered her mouth with his, kissing her as hard as his cock ravaged her pussy. Pleasure gathered fast. Her muscles tensed. The air thinned.

She tore her mouth from his and screamed. Her orgasm hit her hard, tearing her sanity to pieces. Hervé didn’t stop while she was climaxing. He kept slamming into her, fucking her over and over until another orgasm tore her world from the seams. For a moment, she was oblivious of her surroundings. Then, she felt Hervé stiffening, jerking while his cock flooded her channel with his hot seed.

They lay immobile amidst the afterglow. Hervé finally withdrew from her and pulled her into his arms, cocooning her in a tight embrace as if he was afraid of losing her. Belle rested her head against his chest, listening to his beating heart.

It was…heaven.

“Belle…” he croaked.

She looked up.

“Love you.”

Belle kissed him without thinking. She didn’t wish him to see her cry. His declaration made her want to shed a tear. When Armand confessed his true feelings, she did the same thing too. She didn’t know why. Maybe because Hervé and Armand were sincere. Unlike Trent.

Hervé caressed her lips with the tip of fingers when she parted. “Love me back, and I’ll give you everything your heart desires.”

Her throat tightened. She liked him and Armand equally. How was she supposed to choose? Belle dove into his chest and clutched the edge of his denim jacket. Her voice was hoarse when she answered, “I need more time…”

* * * *

The following day, Belle had just got home from work when someone knocked on her front door. Belle fished her keys from her purse and padded back to the living room. She didn’t think Hervé or Armand would come to see her at this hour. She’d been buried in an avalanche of work that made her stay late to catch up. Armand had called her at the office. Somehow, he and his cousin had made some kind of arrangement that they would take turns taking her out every day. Courting her, to borrow their term. And since she was up to her neck with work today, Armand had promised to take her to dinner tomorrow evening. Belle wondered if he’d changed his mind.

When she opened the door, she saw Trent instead. Her internal alarm blared in an instant. How did he know she lived here? Her sisters or her mother must have given her address to this jerk.

“Hello, Belle.” Trent leant on the doorframe and flashed a smile that used to make her heart stop beating. But his charm no longer worked. He brought a bouquet of flowers for her.

She didn’t make any attempt to take it. “It’s late.” She tried to close the door but Trent put his foot in the way.

“Can we talk?” Trent pleaded. He smelt like a brewery.

God, he’s drunk.
“No. Leave now or I’ll call the cops.”

“It’ll only take a minute.”

“Go away, Trent.” Belle pushed the door.

Trent halted her. “It’s important, Belle.”

“I don’t care!” Full panic engulfed her. She looked over her shoulder, noticing she had put her cordless phone on the living room coffee table. She made a decision to run for it and call 911. Trent was inebriated and she knew better than trying to reason with a drunken man.

Belle made a dash and snatched the phone. With a trembling hand, she dialled the emergency phone number. She’d barely talked to the operator when a strong hand grabbed her by the scruff of her neck. Trent shook her violently so the phone fell off her hand. She heaved. “Hel—”

Trent’s palm clamped her mouth before she could scream for help. He tightened his grip to the point of hurting her. “Listen, you uppity cunt. Do you think I want to do this?” he growled near her ear.

The strong smell of alcohol made her stomach roil. Belle elbowed him in self-defence. Trent retaliated by backhanding her in one murderous sweep. Pain exploded in her left cheek. He hit her so hard it knocked the air out of her lungs. Belle fell flat on the carpet. She wheezed, unable to breathe. Trent pounced at her and planted a hand on her throat, choking her. Her eyes widened, realising Trent had gone off his rocker. His face turned purple with rage. His eyes were bloodshot-red. The alcohol had turned him into a monster. A pang of fear shimmered in her mind. Did he even realise what he was doing?

“All you need to do is obey Auntie Maggie and we’ll all be happy. I’m tired of being your bitch–sisters’ puppet.” Trent gave a loud laugh. “And the worst part is they aren’t your real sisters. It’s all been a sham.”

What the hell is he talking about?

Trent choked her harder. Belle started seeing stars. His eyes narrowed as he studied her body, glinting with maliciousness.

“Though, I’d never have guessed you cleaned up pretty nice after all these years.” Trent groped her and yanked open her blouse. “It should’ve been an easy job for me. If you would’ve listened.”

God, no, he certainly doesn’t think he’s…

Belle clutched his arms, trying to pry them from her throat. But Trent was so strong. She had trouble breathing, let alone defending herself. “Help!” she croaked. But the sound that came out of her mouth was nothing but a hoarse whisper. She grew more lightheaded by the second.

He’s going to kill me. Help me. Help…

A man shouted. Before anything registered in her mind, Trent’s body flew and hit the bookshelf. Belle gulped a lungful of air and doubled over, coughing her guts up. She barely paid attention to the commotion. When she finally recollected herself, she found Armand kneeling by her side. His face was darkened with rage. His fists were bloodied. Belle whipped her head in Trent’s direction and saw him slumped by the wall. His face was covered in blood. “What did you do…to him?” Her voice cracked.

“Are you okay?” Armand helped her sit up.

Belle coughed. “Tell me you didn’t kill him.”

“I was going to.”

“Please don’t.”

“He deserves it.”

“He said something strange.”

“Like what?”

“He said Clara and Sarah aren’t actually my sisters. I need to ask him.”

Armand rose. His expression was grim.

“Where are you going?” Belle asked him.

“I need to call Hervé. He has the connections we need.”

Chapter Seven

Armand paced around in the cramped office, waiting for Detective Del Rio to come out of the interrogation room. Del Rio had been questioning Trent Curtis for more than three hours. After Armand let Hervé know Belle had been attacked, his cousin arrived with his friend Edgar Del Rio, a half-human and half-fae who worked as a detective in the Chicago Police Department. Hervé was furious to find Belle had been assaulted. He had had a grievance. He and Hervé hadn’t guessed Trent would be stupid enough to try and force his will on Belle. Armand had cast a spying spell on Belle ever since he and his cousin openly fought over her. He had done it because he wanted to know if Hervé planned to do something devious behind his back again. Armand was surprised when the spell had warned him that Belle was in distress. The sight of Trent hurting her had almost blindsided him into committing a cold-blooded killing.

Hervé returned to the cramped office with two foam cups of coffee. Belle murmured her thanks and sipped one. She looked rattled from the ordeal, but she collected herself quickly.

After waiting in silence for another fifteen minutes, Detective Edgar Del Rio returned. He closed the door behind him with the sole of his shoe and sank into his chair, looking troubled. “Well, we’ve had some interesting developments.”

“Can I talk to him?” Belle asked.

“Won’t be a good idea.” Del Rio shook his head. “You’ve just filled charges against him. The DA won’t be happy if I allow you any kind of contact with Mr Curtis.”

“But I need to ask him something,” Belle insisted.

“Let me guess, about your twin sisters?”

“How did you know?”