The Domville 2 (The Domville #2)
Read The Domville 2 (The Domville #2) Online
Authors: C. J. Fallowfield
The
Domville 2
C.J. Fallowfield
Kindle Edition
ASIN: B00XGREPU0
Version: E
Copyright © 2015 C. J. Fallowfield
All Rights Reserved Worldwide
Any unauthorised reprint or use of this
material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted
in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express
written permission from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, businesses, organisations and places or events, are either the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
I am a British author and write in British
English
Image Copyright © 2015
Editing by Karen J
Proofreading by Fallowettes
Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by
Design
http://www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk
Book content pictures purchased from Dollar
Photo Club and iStock
Written as
standalone quick erotic reads,
The Domville
novellas are told in
alternating points of view of the hotel guests and staff.
For more
information, please see my social media links:
http://www.cjfallowfield.co.uk
https://www.facebook.com/cjfallowfield
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7807992.C_J_Fallowfield
https://www.tsu.co/cjfallowfield
The
Domville 2
is dedicated to the wonderful Chip, who has followed me from the
start of my journey with
The Austin Series
. As another of my most avid
supporters and writer of amazingly detailed and heartfelt reviews, the idea for
this second book in The Domville series was inspired by a suggestion of hers. A
night of steamy passion between two wedding guests, the night before the event,
neither knowing who the other was until the actual day!
Thank you for
your friendship and support, Chip. You are a very special lady indeed.
CJ x
Chapters
Mr. Domville
The Domville chain of six star hotels is my pride and joy.
It took me years of hard grafting to build up to the opening of the flagship
hotel in New York, but it set the benchmark for all other hotels. I now have
one in every major city in the world. All hotels aspire to offer the level of
comfort, service and extra finishing touches that have become standard in my
chain.
Luxury is a word that has become synonymous with The
Domville and I intend for it to stay that way. Especially in my Signature
suites, the crème de la crème of hotel penthouses, affordable only to the rich
and famous. They were protected by bullet proof glass and the interiors were
adorned with suede and calf leather walls, eighteen carat gold trim, priceless
works of art and artefacts. We also only used luxurious 1200 thread count
Egyptian cotton sheets, embroidered with 22-carat gold, at $2,400 a sheet. What
really set us apart though, were state of the art heat signature cameras, to
enable staff to observe and come and go undetected, to clean up and replenish
supplies. If only I had normal cameras to capture what really happened in my
hotel suites, then I truly would be the richest man in the world.
My staff are only appointed after a long and vigorous
assessment, our customer service has to be second to none and when it comes to
our Signature suite guests, nothing is too much trouble. Nothing is impossible.
As for my guests, well they come from all walks of life, but
the one overriding common denominator is money. My guests are people of means.
They pay top dollar because they expect the best and that’s what we offer, no
exceptions. While my clientele may be financially secure, it goes without
saying that their private lives can be somewhat risqué. There’s a well-known
saying that most definitely applies to the guests of The Domville, no matter
which country they may be staying in.
No one knows what
goes on behind closed doors.
‘Lisa … O God … I’m
going to … I’m going to …
come,
’ Brady moaned as his hips moved with
speed against mine. I was working so hard to climax, I’d put a professional
hula hoop dancer to shame. Why I didn’t have a six pack with all the effort I
made during sex was baffling. ‘
Lisa
,’ he cried in a girly high pitched
tone and I silently cursed as he unloaded in me before I came. Again. He
collapsed on top of me, panting in my ear as I stroked his back to calm him
down.
Was this it? Was this really as good as sex got?
I wondered. At
twenty seven years of age you’d think I’d know. I mean, I should have
experienced every type of position, tingle and climax known to woman. Especially
given we’d been together since we met at college. Eleven years,
eleven years
of sex
with him and I still felt like I was somehow missing out.
The trouble was I couldn’t bench mark him against anyone
else. He was my first and only. I was his too. Something deep inside me though
knew that it had to be better than this. Films I’d seen, books I’d read, all
described sex as far more passionate and explosive than I’d ever experienced
it. My girlfriends’ sex lives all sounded so much more exciting too. But sex
wasn’t everything in a relationship.
Was it?
I stared at the white
ceiling, frowning as I noticed the reddish brown remains of a swatted fly
messing up the otherwise perfect paintwork. Our sex life was that splodge of
fly. The one imperfection in an otherwise perfect relationship. Brady was
organised, neat and tidy, like me. He made me laugh, he was a great listener,
treated me like some rare jewel and we were just so in tune on everything.
Except for the penetrative sex.
‘Shit, Lisa. You didn’t come, again,’ he sighed, as if
reading my inner thoughts. He kissed my temple and gently pulled out of me,
rolling onto his back. I focussed on the fly as he picked up my hand, laced his
fingers through mine, then lifted it to his lips and kissed it.
‘It’s ok, I’m tired anyway, it’s been such a stressful
week.’ I tilted my head to look at him, giving him a half-smile while trying to
hide my frustration.
‘Well it’s all taken care of now. Nothing to do but pack
the car in the morning and head to The Domville. I’ve arranged a spa day for
you and the girls, while the men go clay pigeon shooting. Dinner and breakfast
have been organised for you in your suite, the hotel are taking care of
greeting the guests and looking after the gifts for us. There’s nothing for you
to worry about, except not oversleeping on Saturday and making sure you walk
down that aisle to make me the happiest man alive.’
‘You’re amazing,’ I sighed, truth backing up my words.
‘You know that right? How many brides-to-be have a partner who’s so hands on
with the organising?’
‘Nothing but the best for my girl,’ he grinned, lifting
my hand to his lips again. I gave him the best smile I could, feeling
incredibly ungrateful that after all he’d done for me, for us, I was lying here
dreading never knowing what it would be like to have sex with someone else for
the rest of my life. ‘You have something on your mind, what’s wrong?’
‘Brady, honestly it’s nothing. Let’s get a good night’s
sleep as it’s going to be full on from tomorrow for three full days, before our
honeymoon.’
‘Lisa,’ he warned, rolling onto his side. He propped
himself up on his elbow to frown down at me.
I exhaled slowly, trying to remain calm. The trouble with
knowing each other so well, neither of us could get away with lying. We read
each other too well. I’d sensed something was wrong with him since he’d
returned from Dublin, where he went on his stag night. He’d been much quieter
and contemplative and I kept catching him staring at me with a faraway, dreamy
look in his eyes. Plus his libido had gone through the roof. I’d begun to
wonder if he wasn’t happy with our sex life either and was testing it out, as
if trying to make up his mind before it was too late. We were getting married
on Saturday and we’d always said if we took that final step, it was for life.
No matter what, once those rings were on our fingers we’d work through any
problems and honour the sanctity of those vows. Just like our grandparents and
parents had. In fact my grandparents had just celebrated their 60
th
wedding anniversary and they’d dealt with growing up in the war, a number of
miscarriages and my grandfather having an affair. Somehow they’d persevered and
to look at them now, they were one of the happiest couples I’d ever met.
‘Pumpkin, talk to me. What’s bothering you?’ Brady
prodded, dragging me from my thoughts.
‘I just … we’re happy, we have an amazing life. We’re
best friends, we trust each other implicitly, we don’t want for anything
financially … I just wonder sometimes if it’s all too perfect? Everything’s perfect
except for …’ I stalled as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, wondering
if less than forty-eight hours before the wedding I should be bringing this up.
‘You’re unhappy with our sex life,’ he stated in a quiet
voice, his thumb rubbing over the knuckles of my hand, still held tightly in
his grip. I gulped and gave a barely discernible nod. ‘Do we not do it enough
for you?’
‘The frequency’s not the issue, Brady,’ I whispered. ‘Especially
not lately. It’s the lack of ...’ I hesitated, not wanting to hurt his
feelings.
‘Orgasms when I’m inside you?’ he questioned, with a
resigned sigh.
‘It’s not that I don’t enjoy sex with you, it’s just not
as … O God, do we need to talk about this now?’ I pulled my hand out of his,
covering my face, not wanting to see the devastation on his when I told him how
worried I was.
‘We agreed, Lisa. Marriage is for life. We said we’d work
through any concerns about our relationship before we set a date, I thought we
had. I mean, we do this and there’s no going back. If you’re not happy I need
to know, before we make this huge commitment.’
‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ I grimaced.
‘You’ll only hurt me by not being honest with me. You
think I don’t worry that sex for you isn’t as good as it is for me?’
‘But how do you know it’s good? You have nothing to
compare it to. Neither of us has anything to compare it to,’ I reminded him,
finally dropping my hands as I looked up at him. He covered his mouth, his eyes
blinking rapidly as he swallowed hard. I quickly propped myself up on my elbows.
That was his tell. Whenever he was building up to telling me something he
thought I’d hate, he rubbed his mouth and blinked rapidly. ‘You have nothing to
compare it to, right? Right?’ I heard my voice rise on the last question,
watching him as he blew out a quick breath and shoved his hand through his
blond hair. My heart sank at the crestfallen look on his face. He’d done it,
he’d gone and slept with someone else.
‘Lisa, I … O God, you’re telling me you never? We
agreed
,’
he stressed, reminding me of our pact. ‘We agreed, Lisa. We said that if we
thought it was going to be an issue, we’d give each other one pass, one get out
of jail free card. A chance to sleep with someone else, so we’d know before we
got married.’
‘So, you’re telling me you actually did? You’ve taken
that step?’ I looked up at him, stunned.
‘You’re really telling me that you didn’t?’ The look of
confusion on his face only added to how I was feeling.
It was my turn to blink at him as I tried to process this
revelation. I was astounded. We’d discussed the fact that neither of us had
experienced sex with anyone else, when we got engaged. We weren’t naïve, we
knew that at some point in our relationship it might become an issue. We knew that
we’d always wonder if the grass was greener on the other side, so we’d made our
pact. We’d decided to be practical, to hopefully avoid the possibility of an
extra-marital affair somewhere down the line when we eventually hit a bump in
our relationship, because let’s face it, no relationship was ever perfect. It
was inevitable that our bump was bound to come sooner than later, after such a
long run without one. We’d agreed on one pass, one chance to have safe sex with
someone else, with absolutely no repercussions. A get out of jail free card. If
the sex wasn’t better, we’d never even have to discuss the fact that we’d taken
advantage of that one time deal, so the other wouldn’t be hurt. But if it did raise
concerns, then we’d agreed to discuss it and decide where we went from there.
The trouble was I always imagined that of the two of us, it would be me that
would have traded in that card. The one who actually didn’t orgasm every time
we had sex. Not Brady. I slowly sat up and tried to calmly release the air from
my lungs, giving me a moment to process this bombshell. I could hardly throw a
tantrum, it wasn’t a pact we’d made lightly, we’d discussed it at length before
agreeing to it.
‘When?’ I asked quietly, surprised at how hurt I felt.
Giving permission was one thing, finding out it had actually happened was something
else altogether.
‘My stag night last week,’ he replied sheepishly.
‘Why did you tell me? Was it so much better with her? Is
that why you’ve been extra sexual this week? You’ve been comparing and trying
to decide if you wanted to stay with me?’ I felt the sting of salt in my eyes
as I looked anywhere but at him.
‘No, God no, pumpkin,’ he shot back. I quickly sat up,
unable to look at him. ‘It wasn’t better, it was awful. It only made me realise
how amazing our relationship is and solidified my faith that you’re the woman
for me, for the rest of my life. I’ve just wanted you more this week to wash
away the memory of it, the feelings of guilt I’ve had since I did it. We agreed
we wouldn’t say anything if it wasn’t better and I wasn’t going to, but you
just asked me and I’ve never lied to you. I never would lie to you, Lisa, you
know that. I have everything with you, including the absolute certainty now
that there are no doubts and that the grass isn’t greener for me.’
I ripped the sheets away and leapt out of the bed,
tugging my t-shirt down, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to
overwhelm me. What right did I have to shout? I’d given him permission for
God’s sake and if I hadn’t just asked the question, he’d never have told me.
Just like we agreed. How could I blame him for this? ‘How many times?’ I asked,
looking down at my feet, noticing how chipped the peach nail polish was on my
toes. I hadn’t bothered touching them up as I was planning on a mani-pedi at
the hotel spa, to be ship-shape for my special day.
‘Once, just like we agreed, only the once.’ He sighed
heavily and I grimaced.
‘Just one girl, or just one … fuck?’ I wasn’t sure I
wanted to know. I felt jealous. Weirdly, not so much that he’d slept with
another girl, though that did sting. More so though, that he’d got to try sex
with someone else and I hadn’t.
‘One girl and only one … shit, Lisa. It was my stag
night, I was drunk, the lads were teasing me when I said how amazing sex with
you was. They put doubt in my mind, saying how could I know when I had no one
to compare it to? I figured you were probably getting the same advice from your
girlfriends on your hen night. I thought that if you hadn’t already slept with
someone else, you would that night too. You really never did?’
‘No,’ I whispered, thinking how many opportunities I’d
had that night that I hadn’t taken. Not just that night either, I was often
propositioned when I was out. I was an attractive girl with a great figure. ‘I
know we agreed it would be ok, but I …’
‘You what?’ he coaxed when I just stood shaking my head,
staring at my feet.
‘I couldn’t do it to you. I couldn’t bear to hurt you the
way that I’m suddenly hurting right now.’
‘Shit,’ he cursed loudly. ‘We agreed!’
‘I know and I’m not going to throw a tantrum or punish
you for it, I just didn’t expect you to actually do it, or for me to feel like
this.’
O God,’ he groaned. I heard the squeak of the bedsprings
and his bare feet padding across the carpet towards me. I scrunched up my face,
my body tensing in an instant as his warm arms circled my body from behind.
‘I’m so sorry. I nearly didn’t go through with it, but I …’ his voice broke as
he choked back a sob. ‘I really thought that as I don’t seem to make you happy
in bed, that you’d have tried with someone else and the thought of it killed
me. I didn’t want you to confess one day in the future, to tell me that you had
slept with someone else. I thought I’d resent you for getting to try it when I
didn’t, so it was a last minute decision.’
‘So you did it to even the score?’ I uttered. ‘On a game
I hadn’t even played? It was supposed to be if we thought we’d regret not
trying, not because we thought the other one had.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated over and over as he held me
tightly. ‘What can I do to make you feel better?’
‘I don’t know,’ I replied honestly. Technically he hadn’t
cheated, it wasn’t cheating when you gave permission, but if anyone had
deserved the chance to experience sex with someone else, it was me. He came.
Every
single time
.
