Mistress On Demand

‘Not as perfect as you,’ Sophie couldn’t help replying, putting her hand out to touch his bare, flat stomach. Her fingers touched velvet steel, and she sucked in a deep breath in purely sensual satisfaction.

‘Yes,’ Dominic agreed, his voice a silken rasp, ‘touch me, Sophie. I want you to touch me.’

His command opened the floodgates of need inside her. Greedily she slid her hand down, past his perfect navel, past the springy clutch of fine blond hairs, and grasped his hard, hot erection. He felt like satin. As her fingers curled around him Dominic groaned, then bent his head and kissed Sophie again, drinking from her moist, plundered lips with increasing urgency and ardour. She offered no protest when he guided her firmly down onto the bed and positioned his strong, muscular thighs either side of her.

Just before she lost the power to think of anything else but the intense gratification to come, Sophie knew she ought to tell Dominic that she was on the Pill. She took it more to help regulate her periods than for more obvious reasons, but even as she opened her mouth to speak she saw him reach into the trousers he had discarded and withdraw a small blue packet.

As he slipped off his boxers and sheathed himself in the protection she saw for herself how generously endowed he was, and her mouth went dry as chalk. She forgot the fact that they were supposed to be enemies, that they didn’t have a single thing in common between them except this: this wild, inexplicable sexual attraction that had flared up between them hotly and unexpectedly and compelled them to go to bed together. And when Dominic brought his mouth down upon her breasts, attending to each one in turn with hot, demanding caresses, urging her towards the most intense delectation she had ever known, Sophie decided not to fight her conscience at all, but simply just to enjoy the experience instead.

Didn’t her friends do that all the time? Not the ones who were looking for Mr Right, but the others, who believed it was a woman’s right to take sexual pleasure wherever she could find it and suffer no guilt.

‘Are you ready for me, Sophie?’ Dominic whispered against her ear, as he slid his hard, fit body along hers. ‘Are you going to let me inside now?’

Was that husky little whimper really hers? Was that soft, needy voice really the same vehemently strident one that had levelled all those insults at him just a few short hours ago? As he urged her slender thighs apart, and pushed slowly but firmly inside her, Sophie ran her hands down Dominic’s back, pressing her fingernails into his toned muscled flesh with increasing need as he thrust deeply inside her.

‘That’s it, my little cat…Let me feel your pretty little claws.’

Dominic had always been blessed with a healthy libido, but even he had not experienced sexual need so intensely passionate as this. His lips became intimately acquainted with every inch of her flesh in a hungry search to sate himself with her body. Even her sweat tasted sweet to his beguiled mouth.

Holding back his own desperate compulsion to reach a climax, Dominic thrust into Sophie again and again, until she came undone in his arms. As she quivered and moaned, and slid her hands down the now slippery wetness of his back, he succumbed to a wave of ecstasy so powerful and glorious that he was left breathless and stunned in its aftermath. Before he rolled away from her, Dominic stared down into Sophie’s lovely blue eyes and smiled at her with the most deeply satisfied smile he had ever bestowed on a lover before.

‘You have nothing to say to me now my, little cat?’ he taunted gently, green eyes brimming with amusement and fierce, fierce pleasure.

Staring up into the hard, lean contours of his mesmerising face, her body already needing him again, and throbbing with unashamed anticipation, Sophie sighed softly up at him.

‘Sometimes words aren’t necessary…don’t you think?’ she whispered, her glance already sliding away from his, in case she exposed herself too deeply to his hot, examining gaze…

About to race out of the door because she was late, Sophie was delayed by the appearance of a courier with a large package that she had to sign for. Puzzled by what the contents could possibly be, she nonetheless signed the delivery note quickly, left the box on the table just inside the front door, and dashed down the road to catch the bus that would take her to the primary school where she taught.

The local garage did not hold out much hope for her beloved car, so she had no choice other than to use public transport to get to work. The young mechanic who had looked over it for her had shaken his head and cheerfully told Sophie that it didn’t have much value other than scrap. His blasé conclusion pained her deeply. Any repairs she might instruct them to undertake would apparently cost her almost twice that of the value of the car itself. Her heart sinking, she’d agreed to let them tow it away, and resigned herself to getting used to either Shanks’s pony or the unreliable delights of the local transportation system. She certainly wasn’t in the market for a new car—second-hand or otherwise.

Diana’s wedding and the whole difficult day on Friday—culminating in the most surprising event of all, when she and Dominic had ended up in bed together—he’d vowed not to think about too much.

How had she allowed herself to behave like such an unbelievable little hussy? Even now she couldn’t quite believe she had succumbed so easily to the ruthless charm of Diana’s handsome boss. Coming to her senses in the early hours of Saturday morning, she had been careful not to wake him in the bed beside her, and instead had paid a brief visit to the bathroom, dressed quickly, then left the hotel without so much as saying goodbye to him. What was the point? In the harsh, cold light of morning she knew they’d both only regret their passionate fling.

No…Sophie had definitely done the right thing where Dominic Van Straten was concerned. She’d saved them both the embarrassment of confronting each other again. No doubt he’d been nothing but relieved when he’d woken to find her gone.

Now, on Monday morning, Sophie found that she actually welcomed the chattering voices of her class of sixteen lively five-year-olds in preference to ever enduring such an uncomfortable occasion as Diana’s wedding ever again. Whenever her unguarded mind recalled Dominic’s intoxicating presence, her stomach reacted with an anxious, confused flip, and she was surprised yet again how one beguiling yet infuriating stranger could make her respond with such violent emotion.

She’d never had a one-night stand in her life before, and to have one with her best friend’s boss, and on her wedding day, too, was probably the most uncharacteristic and reckless thing she’d ever done.

It was a good job Diana and Freddie had left before they’d found out that Sophie had agreed to spend the night with Dominic, or else she’d never have gone through with it in the first place. But even as she tried to reassure herself she would not willingly have embarrassed her friend—she knew she could not have resisted Dominic’s invitation that night—not when his eyes had undressed her and openly made love to her even before they had reached the hotel room!

‘Finish the story, Miss!’

‘What?’ Snapping out of yet another recollection of the Dutch billionaire who seemed to be dominating her thoughts with alarming regularity that morning, Sophie flushed guiltily, adjusted the illustrated book in her lap, and smiled warmly down at the group of children gathered round her seat on the floor. ‘Where were we?’

‘The big bad wolf was just about to gobble up the grandmother!’ a little girl with blonde bobbed hair offered enthusiastically.

Sophie didn’t miss the irony that she should be reading the story of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf when her mind was preoccupied with thinking about Dominic…

The first thing she saw when she came through the door that evening was the package. Carrying it into the living room, Sophie shucked off the navy-blue duffel coat she’d been wearing over her skirt and sweater and laid the box down on the coffee table to examine the contents. There was a label on the back that announced the name of a well-known and expensive store in Knightsbridge, and Sophie frowned as she looked at it, wondering who on earth would be sending her anything from such an exclusive shop.

She came from an honest, hard-working, working-class family, and certainly her mum or dad or even her brother Phillip wouldn’t dream of sending her expensive presents totally out of the blue.. and neither would Sophie want them to. As she opened the box and stared down at the contents she sucked in her breath in astonishment.

It was a coat…the same fawn colour as her own, but made from cashmere, with a luxurious cream silk lining. Lifting it out to examine it more closely, Sophie saw to her amazement that it was the perfect size and length for her shape and height. Laying it down carefully on her threadbare burgundy couch, she searched around in the elegant tissue paper for a note of some kind, even though by now she had a pretty good idea who had sent it.

By the time she’d located the small gold-embossed business card, with ‘Dominic’ scrawled across one side in an impressive flourish, her heart was just about ready to burst out of her chest. Sophie couldn’t remember telling him her address, but at some point in the evening she guessed she must have. After they’d made love they’d had more champagne brought to the room, and Sophie had been uncharacteristically giggly and talkative because of it.

She groaned out loud as she remembered. But why was Dominic sending her such an expensive coat when all they’d had was a one-night stand? Was it meant to be some kind of veiled insult or a reproach to make Sophie feel cheap? Was that it? He’d said he’d meant no affront when he’d asked her to go to bed with him, but what if he’d lied? Her heart plummeted like a stone. What if he was teaching her a lesson? A horrible and despicable one, but a lesson in his eyes all the same?

He might have been an expert lover, and he might have made her blood zing, but it was still a fact that Dominic Van Straten was completely out of Sophie’s sphere. What would demonstrate that fact more completely than sending the ‘poor little working class girl’ an expensive coat in payment for her ‘services’ at the hotel the other night? Just because he’d made love to her, it didn’t mean that he wasn’t still arrogant, and even possibly cruel.

Her first instinct was to fold the coat back into its expensive packaging and mail it right back to him, and even as the thought came into her mind Sophie found herself arranging the coat back into the box in a fever of indignation and rage. Reading the card again, she looked for an address and found it. Surprisingly, it wasn’t his office address, but his home one: Mayfair, London. Where else would a property developer billionaire live?

Seeing that there was a telephone number included beneath the address, Sophie went to the telephone in the hallway with thumping heart. If he thought she’d given him a piece of her mind on Friday, he’d better watch out! What did he think she was? Some kind of loose woman who’d gladly accept his no-doubt insulting gift of an expensive coat without a murmur? If he thought that, then he had a very big shock in store!

‘Mr Van Straten’s residence,’ announced a cultured male voice at the other end of the line.

‘I’d like to speak to Mr Van Straten,’ Sophie announced as a flood of adrenaline shot through her system and almost made her sway. He was probably conveniently out.. or if he was at home no doubt he would instruct his butler, or whoever it was that had answered the phone, to tell her he wasn’t available as soon as he knew it was Sophie.

‘Whom shall I say is calling?’ the voice at the other end came back.

Licking her suddenly dry lips, Sophie stared blankly at the picture on the wall, a well-known Degas print of ballerinas at the barre, going through their exercises. Shocked that he was actually at home, she told herself to keep her head and not give way to shrillness of any kind when she told him what he could do with his expensive gift. He’d already accused her of being a ‘shrew’ and a ‘fishwife,’ and if he insulted her with any such labels one more time, he’d rue the day!

‘Sophie Dalton.’

She’d been about to explain that she was a friend of his assistant, Diana, then had thought, How ridiculous! If Dominic didn’t condescend to remember her after what had occurred between them on Friday night then he was even more arrogant and despicable than she’d thought, and therefore even less deserving of any respect.

‘Sophie. What a pleasant surprise!’

His voice shocked her into silence. It was disconcertingly familiar, and much too compelling to ever be taken lightly. On the telephone, his tone was sexier and much more troubling to her peace of mind than it had a right to be. It made her remember him asking seductively, ‘Are you ready for me Sophie?’ Hot embarrassed colour surged into her face at the recollection.

‘I wish I could say I felt the same, Dominic, but I can’t. About the coat you sent me, I—’

‘I trust it’s the right size? I confess I had to guess your measurements, but then I do pride myself on being uncannily accurate when it comes to such things.’

He meant women…and their bodies. Was she just one of many female bodies he had undressed? Furious and hurt at the same time, she had to take a moment to compose herself. ‘Whether it’s the right size or not doesn’t concern me! You had no right to send it to me in the first place. Especially when I know you are only trying to insult me!’

‘Insult you?’ Dominic said something beneath his breath that she didn’t quite catch, and Sophie smoothed her hand down over her hip and reminded herself to keep her temper.

‘Yes, insult me! Why else would you send it? You were making some sleazy point, no doubt, to thank me for services rendered. Well, you know what you can do with your expensive cashmere, don’t you? I’ll be mailing the coat straight back to you tomorrow! Just as soon as I can get to the Post Office.’

‘My chauffeur accidentally splashed your coat with cold muddy water, Sophie…remember? I was merely trying to make amends by sending you a new one. Anything else is completely a figment of your oversensitive imagination.’

‘Why make amends now, when you seemed not to care one jot about my situation on Friday, at Diana’s wedding? Just because I was foolish enough to sleep with you, Dominic, it doesn’t mean I’m a complete fool! I don’t want your expensive gifts, do you hear? Whatever your reasons for sending me the coat, I have no intention of accepting it, or being beholden to you in any way.’

Dominic didn’t know many women who would be insulted by the gift of a very expensive coat from one of the country’s top exclusive stores. No—he had to rephrase that. He knew for a fact that there were no women of his acquaintance that would have reacted in such an unexpected way. The women in his life had always adored the fact that he had the wealth and taste to purchase such expensive gifts for them—even the ones who came from money themselves.