My Cherie Amour Page 7

  Luc was so strong, demanding response as he devoured her mouth with his own while

  pulling Claude closer to them both. Stepping back his eyes burned both of his lovers with

  his intensity.

  “Get on the bed,” Luc ordered Amélie as he turned to circle behind Claude.

  He did not have to look to see if she complied. In and out of the bedroom, Luc was

  obeyed without question. Claude stood completely still as Luc circled him, stopping

  behind him to divest him of his jacket, waistcoat, then his shirt. He trembled as his lovers

  large calloused hands caressed his shoulders and chest. “Perhaps you both doubt that I will return our child home, hmmm?” Luc purred

  darkly into Claude’s ear.

  A small gasp from the bed captured both men’s attention and they both turned their

  eyes to witness Amélie, one hand lightly stroking between her thighs, while the other pulled

  on a distended light chocolate nipple.

  “She is beautiful, non?” Luc whispered to Claude as his fingers trailed a hot path to

  the fastenings of his trousers.

  Claude moaned as Luc leisurely freed his aching hardness from their confines and

  wrapped his strong hands around him, stroking him in time with the movements of

  Amélie’s lonely hand. He longed to place his tongue where her hand was buried, to lap at

  the addicting juices that leaked upon her thighs.

  “She is making you thirsty, is she not?” Luc continued.

  Claude gave a jerky nod, wanting so badly to join her on the bed but not wanting to

  lose the feel of Luc’s hand stroking up and down, squeezing with just the right amount of

  pressure. He leaned back, resting his head on Luc’s broad shoulder while the other man

  suckled and gentle bit the side of his neck the way that made his heart race.

  “Go, mon chou,” Luc gently pushed Claude toward the bed. “Give her what she

  needs.” Luc watched as Claude dove between Amélie’s legs with a groan. He undressed

  unhurriedly, loving the sight of her in rapture watching him as he stood beside the bed

  slowly stroking his cock. She licked her lips as if imagining the taste of him, causing

  moisture to seep from his rigid member. As she climaxed, he joined the couple on the bed,

  pulling Claude away and suckling at his lips to capture a part of her essence.

  “Take her,” Luc encouraged as he let go.

  Claude immediately returned to the spell binding woman laying in wait, sheathing

  himself full tilt in one stroke. Luc waited a moment, enjoying the sight of Claude’s hip and

  buttocks digging and retreating, loving the way Amélie arched to welcome every stroke

  before moving behind Claude once more. Taking a healthy amount of lubricating cream

  on his fingers he gently probed Claude’s backside, causing the other man to moan loudly,

  stuttering in his movements. Claude instinctively stilled while Luc positioned himself at his

  rear, unable to stop the short jerky movement forward as Luc entered him. Luc then set the

  rhythm, orchestrating their concert of love. This, to Luc, was heaven on earth and he

  would do anything to protect these two people. As their slow parries and thrusts became

  frantic he called out his love for both his lovers, silently vowing he would find their child

  and never allowing anyone to threaten their family again.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  San Agustín, Florida

  Six months later

  Cherie tried not to move as she crouched down in the closet where she was hiding.

  What had seemed like a temps d'amusement – a joke, an hour ago, now looked to be a long

  boring night. She had crept upstairs where Christine’s “girls” brought their gentlemen to

  see exactly what this sex thing was all about. Christine and Didier did not allow her to mix

  with “the working girls” much and there were very few young women her age in the small

  Spanish outpost. Although San Agustín was now the capitol and Governor Velasco had

  tried everything he could to get more soldiers and business to bring families here; European

  women did not want to come to such a wild, untamed place. The men for the most part

  enjoyed the freedom to drink, whore and even start relationships with slaves, Indians and

  all other kinds of women of color. There was a certain laissez-faire attitude that most

  seemed to revel in. Knowing all this, Christine and Didier kept a close watch on her at all

  times. Cherie failed to see the point. They had told her she could never go home yet they

  would not allow her to become one of their “girls.” What was she supposed to do with the

  rest of her life? Christine had been right about making her fortune here in Florida. In no time at all,

  they were ensconced in a massive mansion with a steady clientele of officers, businessmen

  and government officials. Christine had even opened a smaller house near the docks for

  those who could not effort the prices at the mansion. The girls were perhaps as alluring as

  the girls who worked here, but they were by far the prettiest, most talented of all the other

  houses in the area. Christine had stated she did have a reputation to uphold, after all. All

  her girls were enchanting and clean – which was a rare thing near the docks.

  Cherie was kept away from the front of the house; it would be impossible to refuse

  some of the more powerful clients should they decide they wanted her. She helped keep the

  books, managed the behind the scenes workers and even on rare occasions allowed to

  accompany Christine and her personal maid on shopping excursions, but she was not

  allowed to deal with anything remotely sexual.

  Cherie’s experience with the opposite sex was extremely limited. She had shared a

  few passionate kisses with her former fiancé Étienne, some even leaving her breathless and

  desperate for more. Étienne was too much the gentleman saying he wanted to wait until

  she was his wife. At night she would lay in bed aching in ways she didn’t understand.

  Lately, she had dreamed of her lost love, touching herself between her legs to try to ease the

  desperate want. But the more she touched the more she wanted something - but what? The

  loss of Étienne had been horrifying at first, but she couldn’t marry him now, even if she were by some miracle brought back home. She might yet me a virgin, but she had been

  gone unescorted far too long for a respectable marriage, even were she white it would’ve

  been impossible. The tears had gradually began to dry. She would always love him, but she

  could never be his wife.

  Even rationalizing her plight didn’t ease the strange awareness Étienne had

  awakened in her. She didn’t understand the constant feeling of being unfulfilled. With

  each passing night the feeling seemed to grow. She supposed she could have talked to

  Christine about it but it seemed so private. So here she was, determined to find out what

  l’amore it was all about.

  Simone, one of the most popular girls of the house, currently occupied the room.

  Cher had often been in awe of her receipts and her companion tonight was none other

  than Capitán Diego Esteban de Aguilar, Duque de Suárez. Not only was the man the

  riches in the colony, it was rumored he had more money than the King Ferdinand. He was

  one of the most handsome man Cherie had ever seen in her life. He stood over six and a

  half feet tall with broad shoulders, a lean muscular physique, jet-black hair, and icy gr
ay

  eyes. Rumors were he chose to stay in the New World because of his disastrous but brief

  marriage to Princesa Maria-Teresa, the king’s youngest daughter. The marriage had been

  annulled and the Duque had left Spain in a hurry, though none knew the true reasons why.

  Many messengers from his former father-in-law had come to Florida with urgent summons for him to come home. It seemed the king had a recently widowed daughter he was anxious

  to see resettled. It gave credence to the talk the Pincesa had been at fault for the

  embarrassing annulment. To date, none had ever returned to Spain to give the king a reply.

  The Duque was not a man to be ordered about, not even by his king. Even Governor

  Velasco tread lightly around Diego. The man exuded power and control. Cherie would

  love to see the man in action. If only he and his lady for the evening would stop playing

  chess and get on with it!

  Diego was bored. No, bored was too tame a word. He suffered from an acute case of

  ennui. All he wanted to do was brood with a bottle of rum in the sanctity of his study yet

  he found himself being led by a couple of friends to Palacio Del Placer, the best whorehouse

  in all of the Spanish territories. Once here however, not even the most accomplished

  woman could pique his interest. He hadn’t had a hard-on for months. Rather than to

  admit this to his comrades, he selected the best the house had to offer, took her upstairs

  and proceeded to play chess. He figured he would do it for a couple of hours or so pay the

  girl handsomely to stay out of sight and sneak out.

  Diego was aware he was being watched the moment he stepped into the room. He

  didn’t sense malicious intent but a man in his position could never be too sure. There was

  only one place to hide in the room, the closet. He maneuvered his companion to the chair

  closest to the door so he could watch the closet door, waiting for some move from whoever was watching. He had many enemies though not many were brave enough to attack him

  outright. There was a chance his beloved ex-father-in-law had finally caught a clue and sent

  a spy rather than a messenger. The king wanted him to return to Spain to marry yet

  another one of his “beloved” daughters. What the king failed to understand the experience

  with the lovely Princesa Maria-Teresa left him with a very distinct distaste for the

  institution of holy matrimony. Maria-Teresa had been far more suited for a nunnery than

  to be a wife. For all her sweetness the woman was a colder than ice and as dry as the Sahara.

  It took coating his cock with massive amounts of cream to even attempt to fuck her. No

  amount of foreplay or coaxing could make her the tiniest bit wet. The damn woman said

  her rosary the entire time! Being the only surviving child he was sorely in need of an heir

  but man could only take so much. One month of wedded bliss was about all he could

  handle. Some distant cousin would probably inherit the title, he could not stomach the

  feeling he was raping his own wife.

  Thank God Spain needed experienced officers to protect their colonies against the

  encroaching British and keep an eye on the French. Though land was abundant it was

  damned hard to entice families to settle in the new territories. Most of the men who

  traveled here came in search of gold or other riches, intent on making their fortunes then

  returning to Spain. Most never saw their homeland again. Diego had no need for more

  riches, his lands were abundant, and he held one of the highest, oldest titles of Spanish aristocracy. He came to the New World for the challenge and adventure. It had worked for

  a while. Now everything was stable and predictable, much as it had been in Spain. He felt

  like he was missing something essential in his life.

  An hour and half had past and still only the slightest movement from the closet.

  Enough was enough.

  “Chica, why don’t you go and fetch some refreshments,” Diego kept his eyes on the

  chessboard.

  “But my lord, I can ring for a maid.”

  Diego looked up to give her his most charming smile. “Sí, we could, but it wouldn’t

  be handpicked by you mi estimada.”

  Simone inflated pride and fairly floated out of the room. That bought him at least

  fifteen minutes.

  “You come out of the closet now,” Diego said turning his attention back to the

  chessboard.

  Merde! Cherie’s heart stopped dead in chest. How had he known she was there?

  Swallowing harshly, she commanded her feet to move. Christine was going to kill her. The

  only thing she could do was to beg for mercy. Marshalling her courage, she marched into

  the room. “Monsieur, s’il vous plait forgive me. I meant no harm, truly. I only wanted

  to…well, um, see how it was done.”

  A vicious punch in the gut could not have hit harder than sensation of blood rushing

  to his cock. After six long months of nothing Diego was suddenly harder than steel and

  desperate to sink himself in to any and every hole she had to offer. Who was this vision

  before him, and why the hell had he never seen her before? He tried in vain to recall what

  he might have done to have such a goddess practically dropped in his lap. Did she really say

  she just wanted to see how it was done? The little vixen had no idea what she had just

  gotten herself into. She stood nervously shifting from one foot to another waiting to see

  what he would do.

  Diego leaned back in his chair to study the dream come to life in front of him. She

  had a complexion like peaches and cream all coated in warm honey. It made the mouth

  water just looking at it. And that body. She was not dressed like one of the working girls,

  and seeing as she was obviously a virgin she was probably some relation to the either

  Madame or her lover Didier. The dress she wore was modest but did nothing to hide the

  hills and valleys of her delectable petite body. Her hair was the color of a moonless night

  with a kiss of copper threaded through which fell in luscious curls to her waist. Ah, to wrap

  those locks around his fist as he rode home. And those eyes! An insufferably rigid hard-on

  got harder. She had the clearest, purest blue-green eyes he had ever seen. Oh, yes she would be his.

  “Come here .”

  Oh dear, she had definitely stepped in it. Don Diego was not someone to toy with

  so she did not hesitate.

  Diego stood in one lithe movement. If he touched her now she would be flat on her

  back in a heartbeat. Instead he moved to stand at her back.

  Leaning down he whispered in her ear, “To see how what is done querida?”

  The deep, sensual voice made Cher feel like melting on the sound. “I…I.. um, I was

  curious,” she managed to squeak out.

  “Curious about what, chica?” He was burying his face in hair. She fell back

  involuntarily to lean her back into him. He responded by pressing his erection against the

  small of her back. Oh, God that felt so good!

  “I…,” her mind went completely blank when he started placing nibbling kisses

  along her neck. What had he asked her?

  Diego couldn’t remember wanting a woman as he wanted this one. Yet as much he

  needed to be inside her he refused to take her here in a brothel. Ridiculous really, seeing as

  how he had discovered her in one. He just knew deep down this one was special. He

  needed her in his home, in his bed
. Knowing he had very little time before Simone

  returned Diego forced himself to take a step back and turned her to face him. “I think I can help you querida.”

  “Help me what?”

  “You want to know how it’s done, sí? I will show you.”

  “Oh, no , I cannot…I mean, I am not one of the girls.”

  “Yes, querida, I know,” he murmured guiding her towards the door.

  “But what about Christine. I mean Madame L’Amour. She will be worried if I

  disappeared…”

  “Don’t worry, sweet. I will send a message to let her know you are fine.” Tomorrow

  maybe. He doubted he would be able to slake the sudden lust that had boiled through his

  veins in one paltry night.

  Though they garnered many stares no one dared stop the infamous Capitán de

  Aguilar as he ushered his prize quickly out the front doors and into his carriage. After terse

  instructions to his coachman to get him home as quickly as possible, Diego climbed in.

  Not trusting himself to keep his hands to himself, he chose to sit in the seat facing her.

  “What is your name querida?”

  “Cherie.”

  “Just Cherie?”

  “Cherie Durand-Bonnet.”

  Damn! “Durand-Bonnet? As in…” Although she had promised Christine she would not tell a soul her real identity, she

  found she could not lie to this man. Those piercing gray eyes demanded absolute truth.

  “Gaspar Durand is my grandpére, Claude Bonnet is my papa.” And Luc, but she did not

  know Luc’s surname. No one did. Although France and Spain were not on the best of

  terms, powerful men in the territories tended to stick together. Maybe he would help her

  get home.

  “And how is it the daughter and granddaughter of two very rich very powerful men

  came to reside in a brothel?’

  Before she knew it Cherie told him the story of how she came to be in Florida. She

  even told him about Étienne. Since being in Florida, she had given up all hope of ever

  seeing home again, but this man had the power to make sure she got back home. He

  listened to every word, his eyes never leaving her face. He looked fierce in the sparse light

  of the carriage, but she was hopeful. Surely God had smiled on her at long last.

  Diego had always considered himself an honorable man. An honorable man would