by Sierra Hill
“There now, honey. You just had a little misstep. No harm, no foul. No sense for a beautiful woman like yourself to cry over spilt milk.”
Casper clicks his tongue, his hand squeezing my side, scaling my waist until it’s planted right underneath my right breast. How convenient of him.
“But it’s such a waste of good champagne. Whoever the host is tonight, they did such a perfect job organizing such a beautiful party. The food was exquisite and the beverages, ooh la la. I may have had a few too many. But I wish I could properly thank the host for such a lovely party. I’m having so much fun.”
I let my knee buckle, my body collapsing into him, my chest now smashed up against his torso and groin. He grows thick and hard underneath, and it takes everything in me not to gag.
“Well, you are a lucky girl, Mademoiselle…” He’s looking for my name.
“Madeleine,” I respond wide-eyed with a breathy smile. “Like the little shell cakes.”
Casper rumbles with laughter, as if that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.
“Ah, what do you know. Those are my favorite French pastries. I can’t get enough of eating Madeleines. So petite and deliciously sweet and moist.” He licks his chops obnoxiously, so obviously proud of his crude comment cleverly disguised as an innocent remark.
I have him right where I want him.
At this point, the two men he’d been talking to have wandered off, leaving Casper’s undivided attention on me. I smile up at him biting down on my lip like an ingenue, my hands touching and caressing his torso as if I’m so enamored with him, I can’t help myself.
But instead, I’m search of his wallet and key card.
“And who are you? Do you know the host?”
He chuckles. “Casper Foquette. Your drenched party host at your service.”
My hand runs over his front lapel, the dampness from the champagne already seeping in, as I skim down the front and near his pants pocket. I cringe inwardly as my hand brushes over his erection but find what I’m looking for despite the interfering appendage.
I peer up into his eyes, flashing demure baby-doll blues. “Casper, I’m the world’s worst guest. I really soaked you with my drink. Can I get something to clean you up?”
His response is the darkening of his eyes, and a grin that spells out his love for sex with young women.
“Maybe you are right, Madeleine. Perhaps I should go clean up. Would you like to help me? Somewhere more private?”
Bingo.
This couldn’t have worked out more perfectly. I give the signal to Faron, who stands on the opposite side of the room, who then motions to Rome and West from their positions.
With the switch of my purse from one shoulder to the next, I’ve signaled to them all that I have the card in my possession and the fun can begin.
Sliding my arm inside Casper’s tucked elbow, he escorts me through the crowded room, nodding his head to partiers and guests, all while his other arm is slung low around my waist and he gropes my ass.
Just as we near the bar area, heading toward what I presume to be his personal living quarters, Faron comes in hot, approaching me with the scariest scowl I’ve ever seen, his jealous rage almost a real entity.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going with my girl, Foquette?” Faron shouts loud enough to cause everyone in the vicinity to stop talking and turn toward the interruption.
Faron grabs my hand forcibly, jerking me from Casper’s hold, and I smoothly and covertly slip the card into his palm.
And that is teamwork.
“You lying, cheating whore. You were going to fuck him, weren’t you? Had I not shown up, you would’ve slept with him.”
All eyes are on us, as Casper stares appallingly between Faron and me, wondering what the hell is going on.
“Mr. Blake, I think you’ve misinterpreted what’s going on between Madeleine and myself.”
“Shut the fuck up, Foquette,” Faron growls, pushing Casper with a palm against his chest, sending him reeling backwards.
As if he’s one of those inflatable advertisement signs used in front of car washes and oil change places, Casper reestablishes his balance and puffs out his chest like he’s about to beat on it Tarzan style, ready to stake his claim.
He wrenches my arm back from Faron’s grip and stands with a protective hand in front of me shielding me from Faron who steps into a fighter stance, aggressively pressing his nose right into Casper’s face.
“I will not have you speaking to this woman in such a disrespectful manner. I do not need for any lover’s quarrel to be aired publicly in the midst of my own party. I think the lady should decide what she’d like to do.”
We are now the center of attraction with all eyes on us, leaving it wide open for Rome and West to collect the access card from Faron, as they step up behind him, under the guise of rubbernecking with the rest of the crowd, and make the transfer.
From there, the tactical part of our plan is in full swing, as Faron continues to escalate with the name calling and yelling, until finally Casper realizes he can’t handle our lovers quarrel and Faron’s belligerent outburst.
He calls in for reinforcements, which is exactly what we’d hoped he would do.
With the three security guards removed from their posts and the entire party focusing their attention on what’s happening in the center ring, Rome and West are free to blend into the crowd and make their way into Casper’s private quarters, where they will gain access and steal what they came for.
Big Head #1 and Big Head #2 surround us, but not before Casper offers me a chivalrous alternative.
“Madeleine, I think we could still salvage this evening if you’d like to stay here with me. Otherwise, you’re free to go with this monster and never return here again.”
As Faron is dragged out of the party by the two gigantic bodyguards, I clutch my purse and act as if I’m giving his offer some serious consideration.
“Thank you, Monsieur Foquette. I deeply regret the trouble we’ve caused.” I place an apologetic hand on his arm, a rueful smile to demonstrate my sincerity. “But I’m afraid I must go.”
I step onto my tiptoes and place a chaste kiss on Casper’s cheek, noticing the heavy scents of whisky, sweat and a strong aftershave. Nothing like Faron’s intoxicating scent.
“Bon nuit, Madeleine. Another time then. Be safe.”
Speaking of safe, as I walk away toward the front entrance, out of the corner of my eye I notice Rome and West have already returned and are having a drink at the bar. An indication they got what they came for without problem or interference.
Our job here is done for the night and I’m filled with a feeling of pride for having contributed to their scheme. Even a small part of it.
And now I’m looking forward to the rest of the night’s celebration.
Chapter 18
Faron waits for me in the Uber he ordered, his phone lighting up in his palm as I open the door and slide in next to him. His devastating smile unlocks something inside my heart that has never been opened before.
Love. I’ve fallen in love this man.
The minute the car begins to move, Faron is on me, his mouth crashing against mine, lips tasting and devouring me, his fingers stroking my cheeks in a velvety caress.
His deep voice cutting through the silence as he breaks our kiss. “You were perfect, Gem. Absolutely perfect.”
I suck in a breath, acknowledging that the hard part is now over, and we accomplished what we came to do. The knowledge of what comes next ignites and stirs my blood and body. I want Faron in a desperation so deep it penetrates my soul.
“Thank you,” I whisper breathlessly. “Are we meeting up with Rome and West tonight?”
What I’m not explicitly saying is whether Faron has plans to fuck me now or later. Because the rush of adrenaline and excitement swirling in me is a fire that needs to be extinguished and contained. ASAP.
And the only way I see that happening is if Faron makes go
od on his promise.
His intimate grin, laced with sex and powerful lust, tells me we’re on the same page.
“We won’t see them again while we’re in Paris. This weekend you’re mine.”
The rest of the car ride is a blur of dirty talk and kisses that inflame me so hot, I’m surprised the seats don’t set fire. Faron’s hands explore my body, touching and kissing, his tongue trailing erotic paths down my delicate, sensitive flesh, red hot surges of lust ricocheting like bullets hitting their targets. Every once in a while, I notice the Uber driver’s gaze flicking to us in the rearview mirror and his throat clearing, but he says nothing.
My panties dampen, wet with desire, and I squirm anxiously against the seat seeking friction to the dull the ache and sensation formed there.
“Be patient, little girl. I’ll fuck that pain away soon enough. Your sweet cherry pussy will take everything I give you and you’ll cry out for more.”
I murmur a resounding yes. “Yes, please.”
The car comes to an abrupt stop in front of a building along a busy and vibrant street. Having not paid any attention to where we were going, I step out of the car in a daze, briefly scanning the block up and down the street.
There are shops and sidewalk cafés, one in particular with a grand floral arbor above the café door. Across the street is a small cathedral, built in the similar Gothic style as I saw in Antwerp - it’s massive pillars and doorways works of art that I imagine took years to build and an artist design.
“Where are we?” I ask in awe, turning in a circle to take it all in.
Faron’s hand nestles in the small of my back, stopping my circling and guiding me toward the entry of the building. There’s a massive wood-carved door painted a bright blue, with an ornate circular knob in the middle of the door.
“We are in Saint-Germain-des-Prés, the 6th arrondissement of Paris.”
I nod as if I know what that means. “What is that church behind us?”
“That’s the oldest cathedral in Paris, Abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Prés. Just down the street a few blocks is the River Seine.”
The door opens with a snicking sound returning my attention to Faron, and he swings the door open to reveal a beautiful, ivy covered courtyard. Holding it open for me to pass, he chuckles as I hesitantly step through to the other side.
“Perhaps you’d prefer we tour the City of Light?” He whispers in my ear, his tone amused and teasing. “Instead of coming up to my bedroom, where I plan to show you a different version of light?”
My head whips around and I press my palms to his chest.
“Faron, Paris can wait. I’m ready to be with you tonight…to give you…” I can’t quite say the words, the blush blazing up my cheeks. Can’t express how deeply I want to give him everything.
At least my father did one thing right before he died. It wasn’t his intent, but he gave me a gift when he sent me to Faron.
The door closes behind me, leaving us protected in a courtyard filled with ivy and botanicals, the scent of orchids thick in the air.
My mind goes blank as his lips take possession of mine, his hands clasping around my neck holding me to him so he can take his fill, kissing a line down to my throat where he sucks and licks, a tiny sound escaping my lips. I swing my arms around his neck, clinging to him, pulling him closer.
“Good girl.”
With a swift swirl of his hands, he lifts me off my feet with his hands on my ass, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries me through an arched interior doorway and down a hallway where he stops at the entrance to a bedroom.
The room illuminates with a soft glow when he flips the switch, my eyes roaming over the furnishings and layout.
“You will get undressed, leaving your panties on, and kneel at the foot of the bed with your hands behind your back.”
“But…”
An argumentative response is about to leave my tongue, a disobedient reply, only for the fact that I want him to undress me. I want to feel his hands touching every part of my body, to strip me from my old life and give me new purpose.
I open my mouth, but his narrowed eyes brook no argument.
“In here, little girl, you obey. Otherwise, there will be consequences.”
Slipping his bow tie free from his collar, he licks his lips, slowly roaming down my body and back up again in a sensual motion.
“In fact, I think I will demonstrate what your sassy mouth gets you.” He spins his finger in the air. “Turn around.”
His commanding order sends a thrum of excitement beating wildly between my legs, the moisture pooling, my breasts tingling with heaviness. I can’t help but rub my thighs together to alleviate the throb.
“Kneel, bend over the bed and lift your dress. Present your ass to me.”
I turn around and grab at the silky material, lifting it with both hands to bunch at my waist, the cool air hitting my legs and ass as a reminder of how exposed I am. With elbows pressed into the duvet cover, I bend my torso over and lean into the mattress, sinking into its gentle give, my knees digging into the plush flooring.
Keeping my face buried into the bed, I wait, wondering what Faron is going to do to me. The only sound I hear is the removal of his shoes and belt, the thud and metal clank echoing in the room.
Suddenly, his index finger is there, trailing over the scalloped edge of my thong, caressing back and forth before it runs down the crease of my ass. With a pinch of his finger and thumb, he pulls the satin string from its resting place and slowly slides his finger through the crevice, down, down down, until he reaches my wetness.
My breath stops, and I manage to suck in tiny sips of air, the anticipation so great it nearly suffocates me.
His finger dips into my wetness and drags it over my clit. A sensation so great it ripples like a wave through my entire body as I shudder and moan. I turn my head to the right, resting my cheek over the soft down of the comforter, my lips parting on a pant.
“I’m going to fucking ruin this virgin pussy with my cock, little girl. The same cock you sucked on and fucked with your mouth. I will take great pleasure in coming inside this sweet, tight cunt.”
His finger flutters at my entrance and my hips undulate on their own accord.
“Please…”
Smack.
The viciously quick bite of his hand is harsh and victorious all at once, leaving a sting of flesh against my ass cheek.
“Mmm,” I moan, because the sting quickly transfers a new sensation zapping straight to my clit.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
The sound is a resounding crack as he spanks me in measured succession.
And then he hums a low, vibrating growl. “This ass…this perfect ass…”
His words seem to dissipate into the air, as he washes away the pain with a gentle caress of his hand, soothing over the flesh that throbs like a million tiny pinpricks under the skin.
I hear his shaky breath as he backs up a few paces, the sound of his zipper unzipping loud in the silence, as his pants drop to the floor in a whoosh. I watch him in my peripheral, my face pressed into the bed.
He kneels behind me, as if this is all too much to remain standing. With both hands, he palms my ass cheeks, lifts me off my knees and pushes me up on the bed. I fall forward with a thump, throwing a hand over my head to keep from going ass over tea kettle. But I guess that’s the purpose, as his fingers dig in and he spreads me wide.
Oh my God.
“So pink and pure,” he groans, his nose right there in the middle of my most private place. And then he inhales a long hungry breath, groaning wildly.
With a quick snap, the floss of my thong is gone, his tongue replacing it. The tip of his tongue traces a path from my clit to my entrance, the slick sound the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard.
“Holy shit…” I squeak, uncertain if I should be embarrassed by how turned on this makes me.
Shamelessly, I grind my hips into the bed, whispering a plea for a c
ure for the ache that’s mounting inside me. Faron is my remedy, and the only thing that will make me feel complete.
He flattens his tongue and samples me again, spearing me over and over with his swirling tip. Noises of pleasure escape through my parted lips, mimicking the ones from his mouth, each time escalating louder and louder.
Faron is fucking me with his tongue like a man possessed. A starving man who feasts on my body, like it’s his personal banquet of flesh and bone.
He hisses a curse, a ragged mixture of frustration and need, replacing his tongue with a finger, breaching my pussy entrance and slamming it in deep. No hesitation, no warning. Just hard and penetrating. So hard my upper body lurches forward on the bed, the arm above my head holding firm and steady as he fucks me with a punishing finger.
“You like it hard and unforgiving, don’t you, little girl?”
I rock my hips back, seeking friction and in search of that elusive orgasm that hovers out in the distance. So close I can almost taste it.
The need begins to spiral inside me, twisting and turning, like a corkscrew pulling out the cork – turn by turn. Each push and flick and drag of his finger loosens me up, my inner walls quivering in response.
Until…until a torrent of sensation rips through my limbs, centering low in the base of my spine and clamors to escape. Like the pressure in a carbonated bottle, my orgasm shakes me until I’m detonating into a million pieces, everything in me spasming and tightening and exploding in a chaos of light behind my eyes.
He promised to show me the City of Light. I just had no idea it would be right behind my eyelids.
I grab at the bedding in my fist, shoving it in my mouth and biting down to muffle the deep keening sound that I never knew existed inside me before this moment.
“Ahhhh…” The cry escapes my lips, as his fingers crook inside, the angle adjusting just so to hit that ever-elusive button that sends me skyrocketing to greater heights.
“Oh God. I’m coming…again…oh, God…”
The seismic shudders that rack my body have left me depleted, barely able to lift my head to watch Faron behind me. I close my eyes, grateful for the reprieve as he withdraws his fingers, now coated with my essence, and flips me over, grabbing at my heels and yanking my legs open.