Romantic Interludes 2: Secrets by Stacia Seaman & Radclyffe

Author:Stacia Seaman & Radclyffe [Seaman, Stacia & Radclyffe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781602821163
Amazon: 160282116X
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2009-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

and making cheerful bargains with my psyche about how much, if anything, I would ever eat again. I would now rather be a sinful dessert than eat

one.

The curtain rattled again and Madame entered with several thin silk pieces of material over her arm. Without asking, she unbuttoned the smal

pearl-like clasps on the front of my sweater as I reached up to help but wasn’t quick enough to accomplish what Madame had already done, the

sweater fal ing open to reveal my bra. And for some unknown reason I began to question the quality of my bra—was it snow white or had it been

inadvertently washed with darker clothing, giving it a gray cast? Did it look new?

“Tournez-vouz, s’il vous plaît.” Madame pivoted me in the right direction and as I twirled, Madame unsnapped my bra and it fel into my hands.

What timing that took! How many women she must have undressed! My back to Madame, I felt the silk fal over my head and drape around my

shoulders. I turned to face her as Madame’s hand slid over the pink silk front and cupped my left breast, startling me. “That is the fit we want, I think.

Seductive, and yet it wil stil be comfortable in case you want to sleep in it.” She beamed as if she’d just invented sleep.

I angled my body to look at myself, just as Madame took a white braided satin rope and looped it over my head, catching under my breasts and

hoisting them slightly. Then she swiftly drew the rope up and back, holding me up against her chest, her chin on my shoulder, both of us looking into

the mirror that looked back at us.

“We are a charming duo, are we not?” She laughed.

A little thril rippled across my body, and I couldn’t be sure if the satin rope or the sensual look in Madame’s experienced eyes was caressing

me.

She seemed frozen, as if caught in some thought she wished had not interrupted her consciousness. Suddenly letting loose of the rope, she

swept her hands across my breasts in col ecting and coiling it, and I shivered, then smiled and tried to make light of the moment.

“This is a bit like bondage for the banker’s bride.”

“Bondage?” She made eye contact for the first time. “Bound by love is for me more satisfying than bound by shackles.” She glanced at my

chest. “It’s cold? I’m sorry. Fini, alors. I wil have the braid sewn to the garment and, if it suits you, perhaps you wil come back next week and we wil

try it on to be certainement.”

“We leave on our cruise in ten days.” My voice grew softer.

“And this beautiful garment wil leave with you, I promise.”

I smiled at her charming accent and Madame flashed her beautiful smile in return. “Merci, mon ami.” I tried out my French and she laughed.

“So you are French at heart. That beautiful body and gorgeous mouth, but of course. Your husband should count himself lucky. A banker with

such a prize.” Her emphasis on the word “banker” seemed to dismiss the entire financial community as unable to recognize value.

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