Thread: Belle du Jour {Prince x Showmeyouloveme}

Valmont stepped out of the carriage and approached the hosts, but his eyes were only on Miria. She was, of course, older than he remembered, but still in the flush of youth and only a year younger than him. Under that golden hat, her hair was darker now, a light brown instead of the dirty blonde he remembered as a teenager. But her locks still had a rich, silken texture that was as sensuous as he recalled. Her gown matched her hat, shimmering white and gold in the bright sunshine, and was cut to the latest in Parisian style he noted approvingly. His eyes slid slowly down her figure, recklessly studying her even while her husband stood beside. Her bodice was pulled tight, decorated with golden flowers that invited his eye to linger, and shaped a seductively narrow waist that highlighted the curves above and below She had filled in quite nicely from the skinny girl that Valmont had played with years ago. He found her more gorgeous than he had imagined. A wild rose in this country garden, ripe for his plucking. But why did he feel slightly ashamed of that thought now? He'd bedded hundreds of women over the years and she was just another delicious potential conquest. What were women to him but playthings and sources of amusement in his otherwise tedious court life? As she spoke to him, Valmont looked up and stared into her deep blue eyes, they sparkled in her powdered and rouged face. It was a face he remembered so well as being the first girl he had ever desired. He drank in the familiar, delicate features, those pouty lips, high cheekbones and the perfect, narrow chin. Taking her outstretched hand in one of his, he let his fingertips touch hers ever so lightly. He made a deep bow to her and never took his eyes from hers as he kissed the back of her palm. He lingered a little longer than might be proper and his lips were parted on her flesh ever so slightly, letting her feel the warmth and moisture of his breath on her skin. My dear lady, it has been so long. The sight of you has made any inconvenience of travel worth it. I look forward to the hospitality of your house and the enjoyment of your company once again, Valmont answered with a rakish grin as he straightened. He tore his eyes away to give a smile to the aging Lord with whom she was now wed, well into his fifties and with a waist as large in relative appearance as his lady's was small. And my good Lord Coventry, or Marquis de Coventry in our lands, he said with a small bow. How kind of you to host this fete at your lovely estate and how pleased I am to be able to attend. Valmont motioned with his hand to the grounds and chateau, but his eyes danced to Miria briefly before returning to face the Lord. I see now why you have kept such wonderful delights as you possess at this estate safely hidden from the vulgar beasts of our French court. I look forward to sampling the pleasures of your household and drinking deep of the fine vintage blondes I hear you stock in your cellar. This last he said with twinkling eyes and a small wink, unseen by the Lord, directed at Miria. Lord Coventry gave a stuffy, awkward reply, French not being his first language and obviously uncomfortable and unskilled at entertaining beyond the hunting parties he favored. Valmont gave them both a final bow and strode off, grin on his face. His mind had been made up at first sight. He had to finally taste the nectar he had so desperately longed for in his innocent youth. The girl would be his, her husband be damned. At the same time, an unfamiliar emotion roiled in his stomach and he wondered what strange hold his youthful infatuation still had on him that we would feel any discomfit at the idea of trysting with her?