4. Monique

Chapter 4

Monique

“ I need to speak with you. Privately.” Helen’s breath was hot in Monique’s ear, sending a quick shiver down her spine. “Come.” Her hand wrapped around Monique’s wrist. Nobody paid them any mind as Monique rose from her seat and followed her Domme out of the study.

This is either good or bad . On a night like tonight, Monique had a hard time telling. She could safely say she was a bit irate too.

“Where’s the nearest private room?” Helen asked the butler. “My fiancée and I need to make a call.”

The man pointed to a room across the hall. “The guest office, ma’am. It should be unlocked. You are free to use the landline if you wish.”

Helen placed her hand protectively on the small of Monique’s back. “That won’t be necessary. When’s dinner? We’ll only be a few minutes, but I don’t want to miss it.” The damned roast. Monique could faintly smell it there in the foyer.

“Dinner should be in about thirty minutes, ma’am. Would you like me to put you in contact with Ms. Mercier? Although she may not be available at this time.”

“No, thank you. I’ll chew her out later.” Helen guided Monique across the hall, her pace rough and fast. The woman was taller than Monique, and it was moments like these that made her feel so overpowered… in a good way. I’m being herded. Lovely . She liked it when her Domme took absolute control. She contained a smile. Monique liked where this was going.

The room was dark when they entered, and it remained dark after Helen latched the door behind them. As soon as Monique’s eyes adjusted to the faint light coming through the windows, she felt Helen’s hand touch her stomach, drawing her into a backward embrace.

“I can’t believe the number of people here,” Helen muttered into her ear, hold as firm as a vise. “And I thought I was taking a chance bringing my sister with us. At least she would keep to herself…”

Monique shifted to find more comfort. “I had a feeling you were a bit ornery, ma’am.” Monique knew Helen had likely wanted her the moment they arrived. Finding this many people around must have disrupted Helen’s plans. “I’m sorry I couldn’t take care of you earlier.”

“Oh, the feeling is usually mutual, isn’t it?” Helen’s hand grasped Monique’s breast through her crimson dress. A warm, thick fabric—perfect for leaving the bra behind. Monique had thought the weekend would be private, with only Helen’s sister off doing homework.

The lack of a bra meant Helen’s fingers quickly found a hardened nipple to pinch. Monique squirmed, grinding her ass against Helen’s thighs. Here we go…

“Tell me what you want, ma’am.” This was their escape—a weekend dedicated to cranking up their Dom/sub dynamic. Nothing excited Monique more than knowing Helen was pleased with her service. There was a reason Monique ran the best BDSM house in the nation—bold enough to say it was the best. There was also a reason she knew who among her elite clientele were vegetarians and who weren’t.

Helen hissed in her ear, the words making Monique’s pulse race. Jokes about produce flickered in Monique’s mind, but they quickly evaporated.

She had a task. Her knees hit the carpet, the rest of her crawling toward the chair where Helen made herself comfortable and wrestled her winter-lined leggings free from her thighs. Monique patiently waited for the leggings to be in her hands, Helen’s flats kicked aside and her legs spread open. If there was one thing this woman loved, it was to relax in a chair while her sub ate her out. Anywhere, anytime, ma’am.

Helen was already wet.

“Yes, that’s what I want.” Helen tugged on Monique’s dark curls as her mouth found the length of her Domme’s slit. Monique’s tongue trailed along the underside, savoring Helen’s delectable taste. Her lips teased where Helen’s entrance met her clit—a spot Monique had discovered by happy accident drove her Domme wild.

“Keep that up, and this will turn into a quickie.”

Monique pulled her lips away long enough to whisper, “Is that not what you want, ma’am? We’ll have plenty of time later… after dinner.” She knew the weekend would be full of couples doing exactly what she and Helen were planning—hours spent in pleasure.

It’s why we came, after all. Monique’s bag contained more than clothes and toiletries—plenty of toys for the weekend. Batteries were removed, of course. Only the freshest ones for my getaway.

“You know what I mean, Princess.” Helen gathered Monique’s hair into a firm grip, exposing the back of her neck. “I assume you’ll want some pleasure too.”

Monique teased Helen with her tongue, inhaling her intoxicating scent. God, I could get drunk on this. She slipped her hand between her legs, stroking her slit beneath the dress. She needed to get wet—fast.

“I have faith in you, ma’am.” Monique tried not to sound too cheeky. She truly did have faith in Helen, who had proven time and time again that she could go all night. Helen simply needed… the right encouragement.

“Nevertheless, I’m charging you with keeping me under control.”

Big order, but I’ll take it . Monique slid her lips down Helen’s mound, controlling her breathing. One hand gripped Helen’s thigh, massaging her softly as the Domme groaned.

How long has she been waiting to take me like this? Monique tasted the essence of her girlfriend’s arousal. How was she so calm earlier, chatting with everyone like nothing was going on? Monique bet Helen had planned to throw her down on their bed and ravish her before dinner—if not for Jem Mercier’s mix-up, piling three groups of friends into one villa.

Honestly, Monique could believe it was either negligence or mischief on Jem’s part.

Helen wasn’t the silent type when it came to moments like these—she knew how much Monique craved validation. She needed to know her Domme was pleased. Tell me I’m doing a good job. Tell me no other sub compares.

“You’re fucking amazing,” Helen murmured. “Consume me, Princess.”

Was there anything better than being at the beck and call of a woman like Helen Warner? She took care of Monique, cherished her, and knew exactly how to make love to her. Helen understood what Monique needed, physically and emotionally. In return, Monique devoted herself fully—thinking of ways to please and serve.

Even punishment, when warranted, was part of their dynamic. Though Helen hadn’t needed to punish her for a long time. They were so in sync that Monique could read her Domme’s desires with a glance.

She opened her eyes, gazing up into the dark, knowing Helen was watching her.

She choked a little.

“Careful, Princess.” Helen’s voice was smooth, with that familiar edge that sent a thrill down Monique’s spine. She adored being called Princess—equal parts cherished and submissive. When Helen called her "Wolf Queen," though… that was something else entirely.

Monique pulled back, sundered by the heat lingering on her face. “May I speak?”

“Of course.”

With her hand still wrapped around Helen’s thigh, Monique grinned. “I’m glad you didn’t wait, ma’am. I would have offered myself in the car… if it weren’t for…”

“Don’t remind me of her right now, please.”

“Of course not. Just know that I want you too, ma’am.”

“Naturally. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be doing this, right?” Helen took Monique by the back of her head and pushed her toward the center of her current universe. “Don’t forget why you’re here, Monique.”

Monique could never. Her need to please Helen was as great as her own need to be pleased right now.

Helen guided Monique farther, pressing into her lips and letting out a low moan when Monique’s tongue made contact. Helen wasn’t the type of Domme to hurt her by being rough; instead, she was content to lean back and let Monique do the work. The vibrations of Monique’s kisses along her slit sent sparks through Helen’s body, while Monique’s hands roamed expertly, one clutching her like a prize while the other introduced itself to Helen’s entrance. She wouldn’t let it in, though. Not without her Domme’s express permission.

“Are you ready?” Helen tugged on Monique’s curls with enough force to make her gasp. “I hope you are. Because I’m going to take that sweet pussy of yours very soon.”

Monique muffled a groan, heat blooming between her legs in anticipation . I want her inside me. Merely tasting Helen’s essence on her tongue was enough to drive her mad.

“Go. Now.”

Monique obeyed without hesitation. She existed to obey.

She leaned against the nearest wall, skirt hiked around her waist as Helen slid between her legs. Helen’s strong hands roamed over Monique’s body, caressing and claiming. Me.

“This damn dress,” Helen grumbled, struggling to access Monique’s breasts. “Why are you wearing this?”

“Because you liked it,” Monique whispered, breathless. “Don’t you remember? You said it perfectly accentuated my figure.”

“It does, but I would like to get closer to your figure, and this thing won’t let me.”

Finally, after much muttering and pulling on Monique’s dress, Helen had yanked the hem up over her breasts. She laughed to find her braless; she cursed to find her wearing underwear. How dare Monique keep things the way they were supposed to be outside of sex?

Yet Monique knew how this worked… understood how their relationship functioned. Unless she was ill or otherwise disinterested in sex, she had to be ready to go. That meant she wore a pair of underwear that was easy to pull aside.

“Look at you,” Helen growled, her index finger lazily rubbing Monique’s clit between two inviting folds. Monique shuddered, whimpered, and melted against the wall. “All that for me. I don’t dare let you have any of it.”

“I would never,” Monique said between gasps of delight. Helen’s finger came precariously close to entering her more than once. “It’s all for you, ma’am. You did it, so it’s only right that you get to take it as your spoils.”

“My spoils?” Helen pulled her hand up and touched the corner of Monique’s mouth. “Taking the princess metaphor a bit too far. You’re making me think you’re locked in a tower, lustful as hell, and without another woman’s touch for years…”

“Then you come along, raid my kingdom, break-in, and fuck me hard in my bed as I’ve been praying for all these years. Yes, Helen. Yes. Fuck me.”

“What do we say?”

Monique’s lip twitched. “Fuck me, please , ma’am.”

Helen hoisted one of Monique’s legs, wrapping it around her waist as she rubbed two fingers in Monique’s wetness. “No, Princess. Beg for it.”

There were voices out in the hallway. Had a half hour passed already? Was everyone heading to dinner? Did Jem show up with a huge gotcha to her guests? Did Monique give a shit?

Certainly not. She was needy, she was pinned against a wall with her Domme between her legs, and she had a set of talented fingers begging to enter her.

“Please, ma’am,” Monique whimpered, attempting to sound as vulnerable as possible. She imagined herself that princess in the tower, watching her kingdom burn miles away while the general knocked down her door and stood before her bed. Her core ached to be touched. Her breasts begged for attention. Her mouth wanted to be kissed again and again. She imagined herself, as this princess possibly facing her death but also beholding many paths to salvation. I would strip myself bare and beg to be taken by her, the worthy woman who has won my kingdom and my body. Even if this princess weren’t made a queen under the regime, she would still gladly give up everything if it meant sexual relief for the first time in years. “Fuck me now.”

“I will.” Helen’s finger pushed into her, making Monique groan into her shoulder. “But you have to be quiet. Can’t have the other guests hearing what you sound like when I take you. That’s only for me to enjoy.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Monique tried to keep her eyes open, but they were rolling far into the back of her head from the relief Helen offered. Even though only her finger was inside Monique, she opened, her arousal betraying everything she kept to herself. “I’ll be quiet, Ms. Warner.”

“Good. Because if you make a sound loud enough for them to hear, I will stop this whether you’ve climaxed or not. Do you understand?”

Monique nodded. She no longer had any words.

She also had no more bearings… for Helen thrust into her, filling every crevice of her being with half her hand.

The woman told her to be quiet, so she was quiet… but they weren’t quiet. Helen grunted into Monique’s throat, and every thrust of her wrist slammed Monique against the wall. And the sound they made together! If Monique could hear it, then certainly the others could hear it. They better be getting off on it. The thought thrilled Monique. She had more than a streak of exhibitionism in her.

“Relax and hold still, Monique,” Helen warned her. “I’m going to finish you.”

She closed her eyes, welcoming Helen into her, deeper, harder, faster. Helen’s arm hammered against Monique’s thighs, touching her innermost place, stretching and taunting her sensitive flesh on the outside.

I’m gonna die. Between not being able to moan and the swell of an orgasm inside her, Monique might yet pass out from overstimulation. Helen knew. She knew every inch of Monique’s body, including what angle she needed to take her at… if she wanted to push her over the edge. She did that now. She held one leg high up, after all, giving her the access necessary to make Monique soundlessly orgasm.

“Helen!” that blip of a shout was all she emitted, and it was into her jacket, muffled, but still intense. Climax claimed her, shaking her thighs, her abdomen, and her breasts as they bounced for her Domme’s visual pleasure. The cold air made them hard. The heat she created with Helen was enough to make her forget about it.

“Claim me,” Monique whispered into her ear. “Please, ma’am, claim me.”

No greater thrill. No greater honor.

…Than feeling her Domme lose control.

“Monique.” Helen sounded famished. Controlled, but famished. Helen wasn’t getting hers now, but she would later. This indulging was her foreplay for bedtime when she would doubtlessly lose herself all over Monique. “Oh, fuck…”

She quivered when Helen thrust deeply enough to have all of her. The way she filled Monique wasn’t just for her pleasure – Helen surely enjoyed it as well, saving this for later.

Helen’s hand remained within Monique, panting for lost breath. As her posture softened, however, she had no choice but to withdraw from Monique and ease her foot back onto the floor. Monique instantly missed the strength and power impaling her to the wall.

“God, that was what I needed.” Helen held herself against said wall as Monique pulled down both of her skirts. Where did I put her leggings? Damnit. They’re over there . Monique would have to fetch them before Helen absentmindedly walked out there with her sweaterdress barely covering her ass!

“Thank you, ma’am.” First, she quickly kissed Helen, smiling at the cozy feeling this warmth gave her pleasured folds. “I couldn’t have begged for better.”

“I daresay not. I’ve probably got carpal tunnel. You’ll have to reward me for that later.”

Helen pulled her into a loving embrace, tenderly kissing Monique’s skin and nuzzling against her cheek. Monique giggled, gaining the courage to ask if she should go wash herself up. I need the courage in case she tells me to.

“What do you want, my naughty nymph?” Helen tipped Monique’s chin up with her eager fingers. “I’ll let you decide. Do you want to parade around knowing you’re still wet for me?”

Monique bit her bottom lip. “I like the idea of everyone else knowing how much I want you. That I belong to you.”

“Then don’t wash up. We should go join the others before they miss us and start guessing, though.”

They left the office together, informing the butler that someone should turn on the heater in the office.