Chameleon Read online

  He had retreated to his pillar, his arms folded across his chest. Her pupils had adjusted sufficiently to the dimmed light to be able to make out the heat of his gaze and the obvious bulge of his erection beneath the expensive Chinos. He looked less comfortable than she now felt, in fairness.

  “You like what you see?” She opened her hands, inviting him to comment. She knew by his expression that he liked, but she wanted to hear him say it.

  “I like. I like very much. Come here, Fleur.” He continued to cup his elbow with his left hand but he raised his right hand to beckon her to him. Fleur stepped forward, unhesitating, to stand right before him.

  “I thought yesterday that you were lovely. Now I see I was mistaken. You’re exquisite. Breathtaking.”

  “I…” She wasn’t quite sure what the correct and appropriate response to that might be, so fell silent again. She allowed her eyelids to drop as he drew the tip of his finger along the outer edge of her left breast, tracing the outline before brushing the backs of his fingers across her nipple. The bud puckered, tightened. He shifted his attention to her other breast, repeating the process. Fleur remained still, her shoulders back as she displayed her body to him with pride, enjoying his pleasure in her. She fully intended to enjoy him in the not too distant future.

  “I intend to fuck you here, under the stars.”

  “Yes.” He could fuck her anywhere he chose. Fleur just hoped he would not take too long over it because her knees were close to giving up the struggle to keep her upright. She was fast arriving at the conclusion that vertical was overrated.

  “Don’t move.” He turned on his heel and marched away, back into the lounge area of the riad now. He re-emerged moments later with his arms full of cushions from the low sofas ranged around the suite. He dropped the pile at her feet, crouching to scatter them across the cool tiles that made up the flooring. He stood, strode back indoors, and this time came back with his arms full of pillows from the spare bedrooms. These soon joined the scatter cushions. At last, he seemed content that all was ready. Standing again, he scooped Fleur into his arms and sank to his knees with her, leaning forward to lay her in the nest he’d fashioned. Only then did he lie alongside her and finally kiss her again.

  Fleur couldn’t remain still. She rolled toward Ethan, wrapping her arms and legs around him. She felt an overwhelming urge to be as close as she could get, to surround him, to hang on tightly. He rolled to his back and she was on top, the aggressor now, her lips open on his, her tongue thrusting into his mouth. He seemed content to let her force the pace, and didn’t object when she tugged the hem of his shirt from the waistband of his trousers. Not even bothering to undo his buttons, she shoved her hand underneath and upwards to scrape her fingernail across his flat nipple. She was gratified by the soft hiss of pleasure, sufficiently encouraged to do it again—and again. Then she withdrew, reaching now for his trousers to flick the waistband button open. The bulge of his swollen, hard cock was throbbing against her naked thigh, the heat seeming to penetrate even through his trousers. She wanted no barriers now, wriggling off him to be able to push his Chinos down.

  Ethan was ahead of her. Sitting up, he hauled his shirt, still buttoned, over his head and tossed it in the direction of the fountain. Fleur took a moment to admire the hard planes of his torso, so unlike hers, but couldn’t resist watching as he shoved his trousers and boxers to his knees in one swift motion. He kicked them off, along with his shoes and in seconds, he stood as naked as she was.

  His thick, long cock jutted proudly at her. Every instinct screamed at her to touch it, to wrap her fist around it. She reached for him and did just that.

  Her fingers could not quite meet around the thick girth of the shaft. Fleur lay alongside Ethan, propped on one elbow, admiring the beautiful cock in her hand. She’d seen others. She was a doctor, for goodness sake. But this was different.

  There was nothing even remotely clinical about what was happening here. Frowning in concentration, Fleur slid her fist up the shaft as far as the pink, shiny head. She ran the pad of her thumb over the smooth surface, spreading the moisture already gathered there right across the top. She knew the most sensitive part was at the front, just below the rim, so she paid particular attention to caress him there. His muffled “Holy fuck” confirmed that she was on the right lines as he threw his forearm across his eyes.

  Managing to ignore the furious clutching of her pussy, Fleur concentrated fully on the responses she could coax from Ethan. In fairness, he was not playing hard to get. Each thrust of her closed fist along the length of his shaft earned her an appreciative groan or an occasional oath. He rewarded each pass of her thumb over the engorged, slick head of his cock with a sharp thrust of his hips. It reminded her how badly she wanted him inside her, but for now she was intent on giving him pleasure. Without thinking, acting on pure instinct, she leaned forward and placed a kiss on the moist tip. She angled her head toward him, opened her eyes wide to be able to meet his gaze. Ethan’s eyes flew open and he looked directly at her.

  Shall I? Should I? Ethan said nothing, but Fleur knew. She knew exactly what he wanted from her. Turning back to his cock, she drew the tip of her tongue across the head, experimenting with the sweet saltiness of the juices she lapped from him. It was a pleasant taste, she decided, sort of savory and uniquely him. She tasted him again, lapping more vigorously now. She increased the pressure, using the flat of her tongue to massage the underside of his cock. Her fingers were still wrapped tight around the shaft, and he hardened even more in her hand.

  She started to pump his cock with her fist, slowly at first but gathering in speed and strength as Ethan’s gasps and moans of pleasure spurred her on. She set up a rhythm, using her mouth, her lips and her tongue to concentrate on the head whilst her hand worked the shaft. She slid her other hand between his legs to caress his balls, and her efforts were further rewarded by his muttered, “Fuck, Fleur, you’re good at that.”

  She hoped she was. She was certainly going to give it her very best shot. She continued to caress, to lick, to pump her fist. Ethan’s hand lay on her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. She hesitated, half remembered, wondered if… But no, he stroked her scalp, encouraging but not forcing her forward. She relaxed, leaning over farther to take more of him. She widened her mouth around him, loving the feel of his cock against her tongue, edging toward the back of her mouth.

  He writhed under her, his movements hard and fast, his breaths short. She sensed he was near and wondered if she should stop. A tightening of his hand in her hair answered that for her, and she was determined not to let up until he came in her mouth.

  She did not have long to wait. Only seconds after she had resolved to swallow his semen, his cock twitched violently, his balls seemed to tighten under her palm, and the warm, salty liquid gushed across her tongue. She swallowed it fast, ready for more. There was a second spurt, less this time, then a third. Fleur continued to lap, to suck, to pump, until at last she sensed that he was fully spent.

  Slowly she released her grip on him, loosening her fingers one by one. Lifting her head, she drew back from his cock and wriggled up to lie alongside him once more. His eyes remained closed but he reached for her with his hand, caressed her cheek.

  “That’s not what I was planning.”

  “Perhaps it is best not to always control everything. A surprise is nice, n’est-ce pas?”

  He slowly raised one eyelid, then dropped it again. “Perhaps. But if you tell anyone, I’ll deny we ever had this conversation.”

  “My lips are sealed, Mr. Savage.”

  “Your lips are fucking wonderful. But they won’t be sealed for long. I intend to make you scream.”

  “If that is your intention, perhaps we should go indoors.”

  He chuckled, the sound sexy and low in the near silence of the night. “Perhaps we should. We don’t want the staff worrying. Calling for a doctor, even. Come on.”

  With an agile ripple of muscles, he rolled to his feet,
reaching back to pull Fleur to hers. Towing her behind him, he made for the open doors leading back into the riad. She followed him, silent, as he crossed the foyer, headed for the stairs to the bedrooms on the first floor.

  At the top of the stairs, Ethan paused, turned to Fleur. His lip quirked, she thought he intended to speak, but instead he backed her against the wall and kissed her again. Fleur could still savor the salty tang of his semen in her mouth, so surely he could taste it too?

  “Mmm, so sexy.” Apparently, he could. He angled her head to dip his tongue deeper into her mouth, clearly loving the flavor as much as she had. He ran his hands through her hair, tangling them in the inky locks, holding her still. Not that she was seized by any great desire to move right at this moment. Her brief flirtation with sexual aggression was at an end. She was entirely in his hands now, both figuratively and literally.

  The hard, cool plane of the wall was at her back, her shoulders pressed against it as Ethan leaned in, deepening the kiss. He adjusted his stance slightly so his hands were now braced on the wall on either side of her head and he continued to plunge his tongue between her lips. Fleur had never dreamt a kiss could be so sensual, so all consuming. Was it possible to orgasm just from a kiss? She hadn’t thought so, but now, she was not so sure. Perhaps. If he didn’t let up.

  He did let up, and Fleur was not sure if she was relieved or disappointed. Ethan broke the kiss, but seemed disinclined to straighten and continue on to the bedroom. He leaned his forehead against hers, framing her face between his hands.

  “God, you’re lovely…”

  “So are you, Mr. Savage.” It seemed a reasonable response to Fleur, the best she could come up with at short notice, certainly. It seemed to please him.

  “Why thank you. I should explain that I intend to kiss every inch of your body. No part of you will be hidden from me. Are we clear?”

  “Of course.” She could not resist adding, “Should we not make a start?”

  “Impatient girl. You’ve had your turn to set the pace, so it’s my show now. Is that clear too?” He rubbed his nose playfully against hers, taking the sting from his words. He need not have bothered. Fleur’s pussy tightened in delighted anticipation. She would allow him to lead, naturally, since Ethan seemed to wish it and was clearly very good at this. But still she could not help wishing that he would get a move on.

  As though reading her mind, he straightened and took her hand again to tug her along the short upstairs landing toward the one door that stood open.

  The master bedroom.

  His bedroom.

  The space was every bit as perfect as she remembered, quite palatial, the utmost in traditional Moroccan opulence yet underscored with the most modern facilities available anywhere in the world. An iPod and mobile phone docking station had been built into the wall over the dressing table, air conditioning of course, top of the range coffeemaker, every variety of tea imaginable, minibar, room service offering everything from a portion of hand-cooked crisps to a four-course dinner for twelve. The fresh fruit came as standard, as did the flowers, which were changed daily. The Totally Five Star knew how to take care of its guests. And its consultants who happened to be friends of the CEO.

  The bed dominated the room. She estimated it to be at least seven feet wide, floating on a small platform and lit from below. Cedar wood panels made up the floor, the cool surface broken by stepping stones of hand-made Berber carpets. These drew Fleur’s expert eye as she appreciated the thousands of hours of nimble-fingered artisanship that had gone into the weaving. Each carpet was unique, each as much a statement about the woman who had created it as the location it would eventually grace.

  Ethan drew her into the room but not immediately to the bed. He led her instead to the deeply upholstered window seat overlooking the courtyard where they had cavorted just minutes ago. He seated her then turned to take a bottle of chilling champagne from a cooler on a low table alongside the window. He poured them each a half glass, handing one to Fleur. She accepted it, sipping the light bubbles daintily. Ethan took his place at the other end of the seat and leaned forward to clink his glass against hers.

  “It’s good to have you here, Fleur.”

  “Yes, I know. I mean…” She shook her head, trying to get the words right. Usually her command of English was so much more sophisticated. He somehow managed to confuse her, without apparently even trying. “I mean, I am glad to be here too.”

  He smiled, understanding perfectly. “No second thoughts? No regrets?”

  “No. Absolutely none.” Over the rim of her champagne flute, she eyed the huge bed with a mounting degree of impatience. That was where she wanted to be, but her host seemed not to share her sense of urgency. With a resigned sigh, she knew that this was not to be a hurried encounter. She leaned back, noting with amused interest how little her nudity now concerned her. His too. On the contrary, she felt oddly liberated by it. She sipped her bubbles and allowed her gaze to wander around the luxurious surroundings.

  On her rounds taking care of the sick and the sunburned, Fleur had seen many of the riads that made up the guest accommodation at the Marrakesh Totally Five Star. All were different, each one unique, but all offered the ultimate in comfort and style. Even so, she thought that this must be one of the finest suites in the hotel. Hangings of pure silk adorned the walls, bright splashes of burnt orange, vibrant reds, earthy browns perfectly complementing the natural tones of wood. The soft lighting was provided by two chandeliers, one directly above the bed, the other above the dressing table and seating area. The illumination was controlled by a remote dimmer switch. Ethan adjusted the level until he achieved what he must consider the optimum blend of practicality and intimacy. She thought he had it just right as she glanced at her companion, his eyes glimmering a deep, dark blue in the muted illumination.

  “We have a candle-lit bathroom I thought might be nice later. I’m minded to experiment with the house specialty—rose petals. How does that sound to you?”

  Fleur smiled mischievously, entering into the spirit of his easy seduction. She was, after all, sold. “It sounds wonderful. I do not think I have ever had a rose-petal bath before.”

  “No? Me neither. I’m sure I’d have remembered. Music?”

  Fleur shrugged. “If you like. What do you have?”

  “Everything, I should think.” He stood, walked across the room to the dressing table to activate the inbuilt sound system. Moments later, the soft strains of Chopin drifted from the concealed speakers. “Okay?”

  Fleur nodded and sipped her remaining champagne quietly. Waiting. Patient. She set her empty flute back on the low table and turned to Ethan.

  “May I kiss you?”

  He raised one eyebrow and placed his flute next to hers. Leaning back against the wall he regarded her levelly. “Trying to force the pace again, Fleur?”

  “No. Yes. It is just—I want you.” She hadn’t intended to say that, exactly, though as soon as the words were out, she knew them to be true. She drew in a deep breath. “I want this, you, more than I ever have. Anyone else. Before.” Not especially articulate, but she blamed her clumsiness on the fact that English was her second language. She could tell by his expression that he understood her perfectly, which was, after all, the main requirement in any act of communication in any language.

  “I told you already, you can do anything, say anything you like.”

  Fleur took that to be a yes and turned to kneel on the seat, facing him. She leaned forward, placing her palms on his cheeks. She took a moment to gaze into his eyes from a distance of just a few inches before lightly brushing her lips across his. Ethan remained perfectly still, allowing her this moment. Fleur slanted her head to deepen the kiss, slipping her tongue between his lips to explore his mouth. Ethan parted his lips, his mouth softening under hers. Fleur sucked on his lower lip, drawing it into her mouth to nibble it between her teeth.

  He slid his hands into her hair, sweeping it back from her face. He made no attempt
to hold or take control of her, though, encouraging Fleur to shuffle closer to him. She snaked her hands around his neck and pressed her breasts against his chest as she laid her body against his, seeking contact now. Fleur broke the kiss to murmur in his ear, “Now. Oh please, now…”

  He stood and scooped her from the window seat. Two strides later, he laid her across the wide expanse of the bed, the crisp cotton of the coverlet cool against her back as she settled there. Turning from her for a moment, Ethan drew a low stool up beside the bed and sat on it. Catching her gaze, he beckoned with the fingers of both hands. “Wriggle toward me, honey. And spread your legs.”

  Fleur knew exactly what he wanted her to do. Despite her eagerness just a few moments ago, now that he had shifted the pace, gone up a few gears, nerves took over again. Ethan’s expression was intense, purposeful. His position meant that he would be looking at her, at all of her. He expected her to place herself before him, to open herself to him. And she was about to do just that.

  Any remaining shreds of modesty were ruthlessly swept aside as Fleur shifted toward the edge of the bed. She brought her knees up, her feet planted at the edge closest to him. Then she let her knees fall to the sides, presenting her pussy to him. She closed her eyes—despite her determined efforts, there were still limits to her precociousness it would seem—but she had no need to look at him to know he was watching her. Admiring her, she hoped.

  “God, you are so beautiful.”

  Yes! Fleur lay still, intensely aware of his gaze on her pussy, the lips moistening yet more under his scrutiny. She swore she could feel her clit swelling, throbbing, pulsing. But still he did not touch her. Still he looked.

  “Please. I need…”

  “Tell me what you like.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “Is this good?”

  Despite her level of anticipation, Fleur jerked wildly as he pressed the pad of his thumb against her clit, circling it in a gentle rubbing motion. He did it just once, then stopped.