Jacque Landry: The After PartyMature

After our dance had ended, Isabelle and mine went our separate ways. Frankly, I was a tad disappointed when I entered my chambers alone. I was looking forward into coaxing this beautiful and intelligent being into my bed that evening, but she was gone before I could even suggest it.

Instead, I opened my door to see a strange women lying on top of my sheets wearing a violet corset.

“Maryann,” her name escaped from my lips even though seconds ago I could have sworn that I did not recognise her.

“Jacque,” she replied, giving me an alluring smile.

Three emotions shot through me as I stepped closer towards her. The first ones were mingled together – anger and betrayal. The other one that followed was the undeniable feeling of physical attraction.

“You whore,” I murmured, my voice so cold that the arctic wind seemed like a tropical breeze compared to my tone. She rose from the bed and strode towards me. I took a hesitant step backwards, worried that I might lose my temper.

Maryann placed a soft finger on my neck and ran it along my collarbone. I shivered involuntarily. She leant in and replaced her finger with her lips. Then she began to unbutton my shirt and kiss my chest. I gripped onto her dark hair to stop her from sinking lower.

“No,” I said. My voice wavered with the desire I wanted to hide, but my face remained statue like.

“Oh, come now!” She exclaimed. “I never did anything with Mister Ashbrook! I have eyes for you and only you.”

“I saw you embracing him in the courtyard.” The hunger inside her emerald eyes flashed with guilt.

“Yes,” she admitted. “But I never entered his chambers, I swear!”

“Liar,” I snapped. I was no longer my brooding, quiet self. “Get out of my bedroom, whore!”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she got down on her knees to beg for my forgiveness. “Please Jacque! Please don’t do this to me!”

“Leave slut.” I gripped onto her shoulders, hauled her up off the floor and shoved her outside.

After I slammed the door close she bang on the door, wailing my name like a banshee. I ignored her and locked the door with a brass key. Then I retired to my bed and surrendered myself to the softness of my sheets. Alone.

The End

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