along the contours of her neck. As the cascades exploded through her, she wished the pleasure could go on like that forever. But he'd been waiting, holding in to enjoy her climax and as her pulsations tugged around his shaft he threw his head back and winced in an agony of extreme pleasure.
“I didn't think I could do that,” he moaned as he fell back on the chaise, pressed tight in her arms.
“Rumor is you've had plenty of practice.”
“Not like that, sheesh.” He shook his head in disbelief and to shake it off.
“Mamma! India is asleep on the terrace with a man.” The shrill voice at the open glass door woke Indie from dreams of little children to face the outrage of a real one.
“Come away and go play with your sister,” Sasha came down the staircase from upstairs wearing a massive smile with her riding clothes and flicking a crop in her palm. “Good morning lovebirds, Don't you two look like the Babes in the Wood curled up outside in each others arms.”
“It's a little cramped for two on the chaise.” Indie glared at her to cut it out as Damien was coming around, unaccustomed to the early rising of small girls.
“Morning,” he said, realizing where he'd woken and struggling to sit upright.
“I'm off to the stables for an early morning ride with, a friend,” Sasha said.
Manju, the little Indian maid appeared from nowhere bearing a tray, with a starched white cloth and the best silver and china. The glasses holding the fresh pineapple juice were the cut crystal rather than the regular morning tumblers. She set down the breakfast tray of pastries, juice and coffee and asked Damien in Creole french whether he required anything else.
He glanced up at Sasha, standing in silent shock as her maid genuflected half on bended knee to Damien, and told her no, that was fine.
“She never does that for me. What are you some kind of king?” Sasha stared open-mouthed as the maid backed away.
“I am for them I guess.” He laughed. “I have to go.” He took a slug of strong black coffee, kissed Indie on the forehead and jogged, content, across the garden to his truck.
“Well, that's probably the last I'll see of him,” Indie thought as she watched his back disappear.
“Spill. What was it like?” Sasha forgot her riding plans and sat down, pouring coffee and handing it to her friend.
“Beautiful, amazeballs awesome. What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to say whether he's any good. I bet he's huge, at least that's the rumor.”
“Would you stop.”
“Can I have him when you're finished?”
“Not this one, no.” I think I want to keep this one to myself.
“At least you're moving forward now and getting back to the old Indie.”
“I didn't know old Indie had gone somewhere,” she replied, another half truth. She noticed how relaxed Sash was this morning, without the threat of Tolar appearing at the top of the stairs, howling orders.
“Fuckit I really have to go, I'm meeting Bihjan for a ride.” She gave a cheeky pursing of her lips.
“Bihjan would be...?”
“I met him last night at Lune Noire. Gorgeous, Indian, wealthy family from Beau Bassin.”
“Young.”
“He's only six years younger, but he's a lawyer, educated in England so he's no kid. Anyway I'm not old enough to be a cougar. Mwah, let's meet at the club tonight. Cat's away, mice at play. ” Before Indie could protest that she had no wheels to get to the club, Sasha was gone and the two little girls leapt out from inside to sit on her lap and devour the pastries.
In the days that followed, Sasha and Indie returned to their single, model girl routine, partying all night. Damien refused to be apart from Indie for longer than required to run his father's hotels. He used any excuse to drop by the showroom where she worked every afternoon with Laurent, glad to have an excuse not to trail around behind Sasha all day, waiting in the car while she went in to meetings or watching her jump over horse fences. She
“I didn't think I could do that,” he moaned as he fell back on the chaise, pressed tight in her arms.
“Rumor is you've had plenty of practice.”
“Not like that, sheesh.” He shook his head in disbelief and to shake it off.
“Mamma! India is asleep on the terrace with a man.” The shrill voice at the open glass door woke Indie from dreams of little children to face the outrage of a real one.
“Come away and go play with your sister,” Sasha came down the staircase from upstairs wearing a massive smile with her riding clothes and flicking a crop in her palm. “Good morning lovebirds, Don't you two look like the Babes in the Wood curled up outside in each others arms.”
“It's a little cramped for two on the chaise.” Indie glared at her to cut it out as Damien was coming around, unaccustomed to the early rising of small girls.
“Morning,” he said, realizing where he'd woken and struggling to sit upright.
“I'm off to the stables for an early morning ride with, a friend,” Sasha said.
Manju, the little Indian maid appeared from nowhere bearing a tray, with a starched white cloth and the best silver and china. The glasses holding the fresh pineapple juice were the cut crystal rather than the regular morning tumblers. She set down the breakfast tray of pastries, juice and coffee and asked Damien in Creole french whether he required anything else.
He glanced up at Sasha, standing in silent shock as her maid genuflected half on bended knee to Damien, and told her no, that was fine.
“She never does that for me. What are you some kind of king?” Sasha stared open-mouthed as the maid backed away.
“I am for them I guess.” He laughed. “I have to go.” He took a slug of strong black coffee, kissed Indie on the forehead and jogged, content, across the garden to his truck.
“Well, that's probably the last I'll see of him,” Indie thought as she watched his back disappear.
“Spill. What was it like?” Sasha forgot her riding plans and sat down, pouring coffee and handing it to her friend.
“Beautiful, amazeballs awesome. What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to say whether he's any good. I bet he's huge, at least that's the rumor.”
“Would you stop.”
“Can I have him when you're finished?”
“Not this one, no.” I think I want to keep this one to myself.
“At least you're moving forward now and getting back to the old Indie.”
“I didn't know old Indie had gone somewhere,” she replied, another half truth. She noticed how relaxed Sash was this morning, without the threat of Tolar appearing at the top of the stairs, howling orders.
“Fuckit I really have to go, I'm meeting Bihjan for a ride.” She gave a cheeky pursing of her lips.
“Bihjan would be...?”
“I met him last night at Lune Noire. Gorgeous, Indian, wealthy family from Beau Bassin.”
“Young.”
“He's only six years younger, but he's a lawyer, educated in England so he's no kid. Anyway I'm not old enough to be a cougar. Mwah, let's meet at the club tonight. Cat's away, mice at play. ” Before Indie could protest that she had no wheels to get to the club, Sasha was gone and the two little girls leapt out from inside to sit on her lap and devour the pastries.
In the days that followed, Sasha and Indie returned to their single, model girl routine, partying all night. Damien refused to be apart from Indie for longer than required to run his father's hotels. He used any excuse to drop by the showroom where she worked every afternoon with Laurent, glad to have an excuse not to trail around behind Sasha all day, waiting in the car while she went in to meetings or watching her jump over horse fences. She
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