The Lepidopterists – Part 4

Daniel pressed a kiss to Yvette’s temple. She was certain he could feel the familiar pulse of blood rushing through her vein there. “Can you manage?” He looked at Jessica as she struggled to get up. “Or shall I do the honours?”

Her eyes met his and the excitement hummed between them. “Oh, no. This one’s easy.”

He gave a low chuckle. “You sure? She’s got a nasty pair of claws,” he whispered, tipping his head toward the girl. “Take a look.”

Jessica was gazing at them with a mixture of calculation and caution. Her long square-cut finger fingernails glinted metallic pink in the lamplight as her hands settled onto her hips. “Come on, you guys! I thought we were going to have some fun? We could all go for a skinny dip in your pool!”

Yvette ignored the girl, the side of her mouth crooking upward. “M-hm, those have to go.” Then she turned to Jessica with a bright smile. “Well, let’s see if we can find some towels, shall we?”

Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed Jessica’s wrist and pulled her up the old curved staircase at a brisk pace. The girl allowed herself to be led but struggled to keep up.

The room was huge, high ceilinged and sparsely decorated. Its tall, thin French windows had been shuttered for the evening and an old-fashioned ceiling fan lazily churned the cool night air. From the corners, quaint floor lamps with silk tassled shades gave the room a golden glow.

Almost in the middle of the room stood a large bed with an iron frame. Metal leaves and tendrils curled and looped in the design. At the foot of it sat a matching chaise, its art nouveau ironwork a similar celebration of abstracted nature.

The walls were hung with case after case of an ancient collection of butterflies; both the collector and his collection long since dead. The frames were battered and chipped in places, the mounting boards yellowed with age, but the specimens inside were perfect: as splendid and vibrant as the day they were caught. They had come with the house, but Yvette could never find it in her heart to part with them. There was just too much irony there.

“They’re so pretty, aren’t they?” said Jessica, inspecting the collection as Yvette opened a big mahogany armoire, took out an armful of towels and threw them on the chaise, then returned to rummage in the bureau beside it.

“I thought you said you wanted to swim? Why don’t you take off your clothes?”

Jessica sat down on the chaise, tucked her purse into the corner, and unstrapped her heels, pulling them off one at a time. “Your husband is so fucking hot. He must have women all over him. Don’t you get jealous?”

“Not really,” muttered Yvette, busying herself in her drawer.

“We could make out in front of him and get him all horny, you know. Men really get off on that.” The girl reached behind awkwardly with both hands, fighting with the zipper at the back of her dress, drawing it down. “I get the feeling you guys are kind of…”

“Kind of what?”

The girl gave a little laugh and wriggled out of her dress. “Kinky?”

Yvette turned around, a pair of open handcuffs dangling from each hand. “Really,” she purred. “What on earth gave you that idea?”

“Whoah… I’m not really into…”

But Yvette was on of her, straddling Jessica’s hips, bowing her spine back over the hard metal of the chaise with her own body. “Oh, you’re going to love this, pretty girl,” she whispered, the steel in her voice matched by the cruel grip on the girl’s wrists. She stared down into frightened eyes as she pulled Jessica’s arms out, anchoring one and then the other to the metal frame of the chaise with the open cuffs and her own strong hands.

The first cuff snicked shut, trapping the girl’s delicate right wrist to the ironwork. Then, without taking her eyes off the girl’s face, she closed the second set of cuffs tight around the remaining wrist. A spike of heat shot up Yvette’s spine and she fought the urge to shiver. “This is a night you are never, ever going to forget.”