silky skin of the thighs, Myriam tightened her legs, he didn't go further, he simply ventured to send his scout on the surrounding of a tender shy, downy, crack hardly protected it seemed by some lawn and lace, and he was content with tickling a frill absent-mindedly.
More than a powerful embrace, this attentionate (so she thought) restraint won Myriam's heart. As he withdrew his hand, she offered him her lips, with charming spontaneousness.
«Now I must go back, she said. Be good and drive quick.»
«Yes, if you'll promise one thing… You'll see me to night again…»
«To-night, why! it's impossible. We never go out alone at night.»
«And… during the night…?»
«No, I can't it's too dangerous…
«Don't you trust me?
«Yes, but I can't. I'm not alone in the mansion.
«To-morrow morning then? I'll wait for you on the avenue. You'll find a way to escape.
«I'll try…
«I'm sure you'll come and if you don't I'll go and climb over the walls!»
Myriam laughed gaily.
«The servants would kick you out again…!
«Then I'll meet you to morrow?
«Maybe.»
Jerome was content with this, well aware he'd always manage to see her again. He drove her back to the mansion and before parting kissed her once more, tenderly, lovingly.
She was almost sorry to leave him.
When she entered the quiet mansion, Ghislaine was beginning to wonder what had become of her, and Kozincko was there.
Myriam lied: she had taken a taxi and got lost. Ghislaine believed her. But her father was suspicious and quite determined to get Myriam, willy-nilly, before any one had the privilege to nose in first…
Kozincko knew Paris too well to forget Myriam was an easy prey to the prowling appetites of his fellow men.
CHAPTER VI
Nicolas Kozincko had taken them to his own flat Avenue Foch, where they had lunch. The flat would be a good setting to this new adventure. It was on the grand scale and luxuriously furnished. Kozincko was rich and his taste wasn't too bad.
He had shown them round, and Myriam felt terribly anxious as she saw his bed-room with its vast bed, a regular battle field… She remembered her aunt's words… everything but your maidenhead… As a matter of fact, since she had met Jerome, she was ready to refuse Nicolas everything. She compared them both. How could she feel anything for a man who might be her own father. He had made her happy and elegant, true enough, but was it not merely to corner her all the better, to repay himself on her body of all his previous expenses?
Myriam was beginning to guess what depths the word «love» could hide.
After lunch, Ghislaine was to go the hairdresser. Myriam thought she'd go too, but Kozincko didn't agree.
«The chauffeur will take you there my dear he said. Then I'll come with Myriam to fetch you when you've finished. We'll go to Saint Germain for dinner.
Myriam understood she'd have to face him. He was sure to want many things, she trembled at the thought of the approaching fight, and wondered how she would manage him.
As a matter of fact, Ghislaine had understood her father was much attracted of late by Myriam's grace, and she thought it very natural; in her eyes her father was a demigod, and no one could stand up to him. Totally ignorant of what desire meant she believed it logical that Myriam should submit to any of her father's requests… She had seen how intent his eyes rested on Myriam's body since the bath room episode, she inferred that there must be something going on and intended to ask her friend what it was.
As soon as they were alone, Nicolas drew close to the girl.
«Well Myriam, are you happy in Paris?
«Yes indeed, she answered, Ghislaine is so kind to me… and you… and you're so… so good…»
He smiled.
«Yes I'm good, as you have it… I'd love see you very, very happy. And to share that happiness, hum? Do you understand… If you want you can be very kind to me…»
Myriam bowed her head silently.
Nicolas had drawn closer. He was looking at her with new eyes. She was no longer the poor Cinderella he had known at the Chateau Vert. Her lavender blue dress fitted her perfectly well, clinging to her young firm breasts setting off her slim waist Her bare arms smooth and silky, her wrists delicate. She wore high heels and nylons. The caterpillar had turned into the loveliest butterfly which Kozincko was quite determined to add to his collection.
Myriam dared not step back. His eyes were blood shot, he drew his breath quickly, thickly; she didn't want to pain Ghislaine's father, but the mere thought of his brutal caresses nauseated her.
She was ready to escape when Kozincko caught her by the waist.
«It's a long time since we haven't been together… I wanted to have you to myself alone, to touch your dear little body.»
He had fastened on her like a leech and bent her back almost double. Then he cupped his hands under her plump little buttocks as she wriggled to get free. Myriam felt on her hair the short breath of a man who eats plentifully drinks abundantly and fucks away like a horse. He slowly rubbed his body against hers, seeking a contact through the material. His cock knocking already at the stable door… He sought her lips. She averted her head. He had a small bite at her neck, and Myriam thrilled all over.
He scolded her gently:
«You want to fight it baby… I like it, it rouses me. Love is a fight you'll be a lovely town to ransack. Fight it… but remember I'll always ram my tool up your cute twat in the end.»
He bent and flung up her skirt sneering:
«What princely undies. Come on let me have a look at your pussy.»
His hairy hands clutched her thighs. He fingered the soft resilient flesh, he had a tremendous hard on already and grew obviously impatient.
Myriam was trying to fight him away silently, he cornered her in a deep armchair, caught her mouth, threw his tongue down her throat as a prelude to another inroad into her flesh, while his thick hand shot up her legs directly into a helpless little crotch, pawed it enthusiastically.
Myriam was giddy. For a second she thought she'd faint. She kept her thighs closed tight, and managed to escape his grasp.
«You're very strong he stammered, how long will you keep the show up?»
Myriam was fighting now partly in dire distress, partly because she understood Nicolas loved the fight as much as the victory and she hoped to satisfy him that way at least.
Suddenly he lifted her up in his strong arms.
«Come, you need some more room and con-fort to struggle…»
Myriam kicked right and left but all to no purpose, except showing a pair of maddening thighs…»
A few strides brought him to the bed-room. He locked the door and his countenance fell.
«Now Myriam stop that silly game. You can resist a little, it's part of the game, but don't do it too long, I'm far from being patient, I might grow unkind… I warn you… You'll be a delightful mistress.
«I don't want to be your mistress.
«You might have gone the whole hog the first day at The Chateau Vert, had I cared to unbutton my fly.
«Please, no, not now! I'll do anything you like, but not that…
«You said everything I like?
