One Night In Brussels – Romantic Brussels
Hi, it’s nice to be here. Thanks for letting me talk about One Night In Brussels and the city that inspired the setting for the story.
On the surface, Brussels may not seem like the most romantic city in the world. Known as a city of commerce and bureaucracy, it certainly doesn’t have the same quaint mediaeval charm as Bruges, with its cobbled streets and network of canals, including a stretch of water that’s actually known as the Lac D’Amour, or Lake of Love.
But Brussels has its own share of beautiful architecture, including the Grand-Place or Grote Markt, depending on whether you’re a French or Flemish speaker. Restored to their original glory around a hundred years ago, the Town Hall and surrounding buildings that once belonged to the city’s mediaeval guilds are truly breathtaking. Just round the corner from the Grand-Place is the famous Manneken Pis fountain, possibly the rudest statue in the world. (And if you don’t know where the water emerges, I’d advise you to go and Google it…) The cutest thing about the little Manneken is that he has a number of special costumes, mostly designed for civic festivals or to commemorate some Belgian trade or organization. Depending on the day, you can turn up and see him dressed as anything from Father Christmas to Adolphe Sax, designer of the saxophone.
Less well known, but probably worth a visit for incurable romantics, is the Musée de la Coeur, or Heart Museum. As its name suggests, it’s a celebration of the heart in religious and secular art, with everything from paintings to heart-shaped jewellery and cake moulds on display.
When it comes to an intimate dinner for two, Brussels has plenty of cosy, romantic restaurants. My favourite place to eat is a bar called Nuetnigenough, a short walk from the Manneken Pis. Their website translates its name like this: ‘literally, in Brussels dialect, that’s the one who has never, never ever enough. Greedy gluttons, perfectionists, (wo)manisers, we welcome all three versions!’ Maybe not so romantic, but with that philosophy it’s a good place to eavesdrop if you want inspiration for a story or two…
If you’re looking for something a little more unusual you could try the Tram Experience. This particular tram has been fitted out as a restaurant, so you can enjoy a gourmet meal while getting a guided night-time tour of the city.
And of course, you can’t forget the shopping. Belgium produces some of the finest chocolate in the world, and the streets around the Grote Markt are a temple to the stuff. It’s practically compulsory to treat yourself to some of the delicious pralines and truffles. After all, they do say that chocolate is an aphrodisiac.
In One Night In Brussels, businessman Dominic has persuaded Saskia to play truant from her boring translation job at the European Commission so she can show him around the city. There’s a strong sexual attraction between the two of them, and Saskia is expecting Dominic’s invitation to dinner to turn into something more erotic. What she can’t foresee is that Dominic’s actions will lead to a night filled with tension, danger, and some of the most incredible sex of Saskia’s life. For her, Brussels will become a city of romance in the most exciting possible way – and who wouldn’t want that?
Excerpt:
“I want you to undress for me, Saskia.”
His voice holds a low, commanding tone—one that compels her to obey. With her back to him, she can’t see his face, but it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t need to know his name, his profession, his favourite foods or any of the mundane details on which relationships are formed. This is to be one night of shared bliss, and nothing more. They will give each other perfect satisfaction then go their separate ways, taking only their memories with them.
She pulls the zip of her tight-fitting black dress all the way down, then pushes the thin straps off her shoulders. From the view she’s presenting to him, he’ll be aware she isn’t wearing a bra, but she’ll tease him a moment longer before letting him see her full, bare breasts. By the time she’s naked she wants him so hard his erection will be threatening to burst the zip of his faded jeans.
The dress slithers to her feet and she steps out of it. She stands in only a pair of thong-backed panties that leave most of her bottom cheeks exposed, and tall black come-fuck-me heels. She’s tempted to sneak a glance over her shoulder to see whether he’s stroking himself through his clothing. Excitement ripples through her at the thought that she’s already got him so excited he needs to play with his cock.
“Oh, that’s nice,” he murmurs.
Saskia assumes he’s talking about her barely clad bum and gives it a saucy wiggle. “You like it?”
“I love it. But you need to lose those panties, too, sweetheart.”
She feigns coyness, hooking her fingers into the waistband of her underwear and pulling them down a fraction before stopping, as though she’s gone as far as she’s prepared to. The idea that he might leap from the bed and rip the flimsy garment clean off her body has her juices flowing and her rosy nipples stiffening into peaks. But he seems content to stay where he is, happy with the show she’s putting on for him.
When she cups her mound through her panties, heat radiates through the wet fabric. She bends forward a little way and slides her hand lower, pressing it into the seam of her swollen lips. He has to be able to see her fingertips peeping from between the gap in her widely parted thighs, touching herself in the place he must ache to, and it feels so deliciously rude to torment him like this.
“Oh, you dirty little minx,” he groans.
There’s a harsh rasp as his zip comes down and now she’s sure he has himself in hand. She risks a peek and her suspicions are proved right. He’s easing his big fist slowly up and down his length. His eyes are half-closed and his head rests on the pillows piled high against the wrought iron bedstead.
To the steady rhythm of his palm slapping against his cock, Saskia eases her underwear all the way down. Then she turns round and throws the damp scrap of silk in his direction. She doesn’t know which of them is the more surprised when he catches them in his free hand without missing a stroke with the other.
He puts the panties to his nose, breathing in Saskia’s scent. “Come here, gorgeous,” he growls, and she does.
She yearns to sink down on the fat, upstanding column of flesh he’s gripping so tightly, but he appears to have other things in mind.
“Lie down,” he orders her, climbing off the bed so she can take the place he’s vacated. He undresses in haste, letting his jeans slide off his slim hips. He isn’t wearing anything beneath them, and once his T-shirt is peeled off, he’s as naked as she is. She can’t help but notice he has no tan lines, and she pictures him relaxing in the nude on a sheltered sun terrace, or maybe some secluded beach, letting his skin turn that gorgeous shade of honey-gold.
“I’ve got a treat for you,” he tells her.
When she looks in his direction, he’s picked up a small bottle with a vaguely Aztec design on its label.
“Massage oil.” He runs his hand through his dark hair. “A blend designed for pure erotic pleasure…”
Blurb:
A stolen necklace is only the beginning of the adventure, and when Dominic and Saskia are threatened by a knife-wielding robber, things threaten to spiral out of control.
Has Saskia misjudged Dominic? Should she trust him? And as their sex games grow hotter and ever more inventive, can she ever guess how this night will end?
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Bio: 
Elizabeth Coldwell is a multi-published author and the former editor of the UK edition of Forum magazine, where she was responsible for publishing a number of now very well-known authors for the first time, as well as honing her own writing.
She lives in East London, is a season ticket holder at Rotherham United and a keen cook. Her recipe for peanut butter brownies is available if you ask nicely…
You can find her at The (Really) Naughty Corner and Goodreads
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