French Connection Vol. 3

by M. S. Parker

  My friends, after telling us both how well we'd done, went off to the dance floor. Gavin looked down at me and I knew he was wondering if I wanted to dance. I shook my head and glanced toward the door at the back of the club. His eyes darkened and he pulled me through the crowd after him as he headed for the door.

  The sound died down as we left the main floor and neither of us broke it. I wondered if, like me, Gavin was remembering the first time we'd walked down the hallway toward that door. This time, however, I was going into that room knowing exactly what was there and that I was going in with the man I loved and would be spending the rest of my life with.

  Over the past two months, Gavin had been teaching me about the things he enjoyed and we'd established a not-quite Dom / Sub relationship. I wasn't sure how we differed from other couples, but I didn't care. It worked for us and that's what was important. Tonight, however, would be the first time we'd use this room for what it was designed for.

  As soon as the door closed behind us, shutting out the last of the sound from downstairs, it was like nothing existed except Gavin and me. I looked at him and waited for his instruction.

  “Take off your dress.” His voice had taken on that authoritative note that meant good things were in store for me.

  I kept my eyes locked with his as I slowly lowered the zipper and shimmied out of the tight garment. Gavin's eyes widened, then narrowed as he saw my little contribution to making tonight exciting.

  Once I stepped out of the dress, the only thing I still wore were a pair of six-inch stilettos. My nipples started to harden at the chill in the room, but my pussy had been wet from the moment I'd stepped outside without my panties.

  Gavin walked toward me, the expression on his face making me even wetter. “You were out there with nothing on under your dress?”

  I gave him a coy smile. “I thought you liked it when I didn't wear panties.”

  “Bend over the bed.” He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing every inch of golden skin and hard muscles. “You need to be punished.”

  “Yes, Sir.” I walked to the bed, putting a little extra swing in my step. I felt his eyes on me as I went and knew I'd pay for the teasing. My pussy throbbed at the thought.

  I put my hands on the bed and my ass in the air. A moment later, I heard Gavin walking toward me. I tensed in anticipation, waiting to feel his hand on my skin, but it didn't come. Instead, I heard a drawer open and looked over.

  “Face forward,” he snapped. There was no anger in his voice and I obeyed immediately.

  A moment later, I felt the brush of soft leather and knew what he'd gotten. More than once, he'd said he wanted to use a flogger on me. It looked like tonight was going to be the night.

  “Let yourself feel,” he said as he ran the strips down my spine.

  I nodded, letting him know I was ready.

  I heard the crack a split second before I felt the leather snap against my flesh. I gasped. This was nothing like it had been with his hand. That had been solid, a spreading of warmth across my skin. This was sharper, more intense. It wasn't more painful, just different. Smaller points of pressure. He flicked his wrist again and I cried out. My head felt forward, my hair falling in curtains around my face. I squeezed my eyes closed.

  “When we go back out,” Gavin said. “I want to know that you're going to feel every moment of this. Your dress rubbing against your ass, chafing the sensitive skin.”

  I shivered, then yelped as the flogger struck me again.

  “The next time you decide to forgo panties without my permission, I won't just use this on your ass,” he continued, his voice low. “I'll make you stand like this, legs apart, and spread your cheeks. Or maybe I'll have you lay down on the bed and stretch your legs as wide as you can. I'll flog your pussy until your clit is swollen and you're begging me to stop, then soothe it with my mouth until you're pleading for more.”

  I whimpered. I was torn, unsure if I was turned on by what he was saying or dreading it. I was leaning toward the first one. Every single thing Gavin had introduced me to, I'd enjoyed, no matter how kinky or strange it had seemed at first. I trusted him.

  Two quick snaps made my body jerk and then Gavin's hands were on me, sliding over my burning ass and up my sides. He cupped my breasts, squeezing them tightly until I cried out. His fingers started to work on my nipples, pulling and tugging on them until my arms were shaking as pleasure and pain mingled until I couldn't tell where one stopped and the other began.

  “I'm going to fuck you.” Gavin's mouth was right at my ear. “And you're going to keep pinching and twisting your nipples until I come. When you put that dress back on, your ass isn't the only thing I want throbbing.”

  “Fuck,” I whispered.

  “You're not allowed to touch your clit,” he continued. “I'm not going to touch it either.” He nipped the side of my neck. “And I'm not going to come until you do.”

  I swore again.

  He pulled me upright, resting my back against his bare chest. At some point, he'd removed his pants and I felt his cock hard and heavy against my hip.

  “Put your hands on your breasts.” Gavin's hands dropped and mine took their place.

  My nipples were already getting sore, but I did as he told me to and began to pinch and twist the sensitive flesh. My fingers tightened involuntarily as he buried himself inside me with one quick thrust. I wailed, grateful the walls were soundproof. Pain shot through me, down from my nipples and up from where he was stretching me without any preparation. Tears filled my eyes as I danced that line between straight pain and that edge that my body craved. Over these past few weeks, Gavin tapped into an even deeper, primal part of me than I realized existed. Now, he was pushing me further than before.

  His hands settled on my hips as he began to thrust into me, each stroke pushing me onto my toes, driving me further and further up that line.

  “Keep working those pretty little nipples.” Gavin panted.

  My head fell against his shoulder, my eyes closed. My muscles were shaking, trembling, as the sensations threatened to overwhelm me.

  “Open your eyes,” Gavin commanded.

  I did and realized for the first time that he'd positioned us in front of a mirror. I couldn't believe what I saw. The erotic image of watching Gavin's body move into mine sliding in and out between my legs. The way my pussy opened around him, welcoming him as if he were a part of me. My skin flushed and glistening with sweat. My fingers on my swollen nipples. Gavin's eyes, nearly black. The muscles on his neck and arms stood out as he pounded into me.

  “Come for me.” Gavin sucked on my neck, then bit down.

  I tried to scream his name as I came, but nothing came out. My hands dropped, my entire body going limp. My legs buckled, but Gavin continued to thrust into me, his arms wrapping around my waist, holding me upright. Once, twice, and then on the third stroke, he growled my name, his arms tightening around me until I could barely breath. He dropped to his knees, driving his cock so deep inside me I saw stars.

  He pressed his face against the side of my neck, his breath caressing my skin. “I love you, Carrie.”

  “I love you, too.” I shifted until I was curled on his lap, my head resting on his shoulder. I looked at my hand, the jewels on my engagement ring sparkling. “And I'm looking forward to a lifetime of this.”

  He chuckled. “Me too.” He kissed my temple. “But how about we shower first?”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said. “But maybe we can play with a couple other toys first?”

  He growled, low in his throat and I felt his cock stir inside me. “I would like that very much.”

  – The End –

  Please turn the page to enjoy an exclusive preview of Chasing Perfection 4, a story that takes places right after French Connection ends:

  Chasing Perfection Vol. 4 Preview - Chapter One

  Krissy

  It seemed like more than a year since I'd been in New York, not a little less than one. For six years, this
city had been my home. The three women I'd met here had become more of a family to me than my own mother and father. Dena and Leslie stood with me now as we waited for the fourth member of our group to appear. Carrie and her fiancée, Gavin, were the reason my own boyfriend, DeVon, and I had flown in from LA. Not only were Carrie and Gavin officially announcing their engagement, but it was also the re-opening of their club, the place where they'd had their first date. Well, sort of. The story of their relationship was the only one I knew that was even crazier than how DeVon and I had come together. The two of them had been through a lot and they deserved this celebration.

  “There.” DeVon's voice sent a shiver through me even though there wasn't anything sexual about the word or his intensions. His hand on my back sent heat through me that had nothing to do with the press of bodies all around us.

  I followed where he pointed and saw the person I'd been looking for. I grinned and shouted her name as I made my way through the crowd towards my friend. When I'd first met her at Columbia, she'd been much quieter and definitely less well-dressed. She was always beautiful, but her time with Gavin had given her the confidence to show the person I'd always known her to be.

  We'd been roommates since freshman year and being apart for this long hadn't been easy. Of course, we'd both made new friends and found the paths our lives were meant to take, but that didn't mean we hadn't missed each other. The thing about being so close, the two of us picked up right where we'd left off. After a while, Dena and Leslie chose partners from their many admirers and moved off to dance. Gavin and Carrie headed off somewhere – I assumed to visit the private room she'd told me about the club having. And I definitely didn't blame her. If I had a hot guy and a private sex playroom, I'd spend as much time in there as possible. Well, I had at least one half of that equation here.

  I looked up at DeVon. “Shall we dance?” I held out my hand.

  He smiled at me, a slow, sensual smile that tightened things low inside me. That was the kind of smile I'd learned held the promise of great things to come. When DeVon and I had first been doing this little back-and-forth thing where we tried to deny how we felt about each other, he'd said that he didn't dance. When asked why by one of our mutual friends, he'd said it was because he'd never found the right partner.

  He slid his hand into mine and the two of us moved onto the dance floor. His hand slid up my bare arm and then down to the small of my back. He pulled me tight against him until our bodies were pressed together intimately. If we'd been at a normal dance club, it might've been almost obscene, the way we began to move together, but here, everything was a precursor to sex. Well, except for the actual sex that I assumed was happening in the more dimly lit parts of the club.

  “That dress looks amazing.” DeVon pressed his mouth against my ear. The hand on my back moved down to my ass. “But I don't like it.”

  I turned my head enough to give him a puzzled look.

  “Too many men in here are wondering if you could possibly look as good without it as you do with it.” His hand slid lower and the tips of his fingers brushed against the tops of my thighs.

  I'd specifically chosen this dress because it wasn't one I could wear to a function back home – when had I started referring to LA as home instead of New York? – and the re-opening of a sex club had seemed like the perfect fit for it. It was simple in the sense that it was plain white, without any fancy stitching or cuts, but no one would describe the dress as boring. At least not the way I was wearing it. Carrie would've called the dress one of my “barely there” outfits.

  “There are just as many women looking at you,” I countered. And it wasn't just women. I saw more than a few men looking our way who weren't checking me out.

  “Well, if people are looking.” DeVon's Italian accent thickened the way it always did when he was angry or aroused. “Maybe we should give them something to look at.”

  I was wearing my favorite heels, which put me close enough to DeVon's over-six-feet frame that all I had to do was tilt my head for our faces to be only an inch apart. I saw the heat in his eyes and then his mouth was coming down on mine. Electricity zinged through me as his tongue darted into my mouth, tasting of the champagne we'd been drinking. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my fingers in his wavy black hair. He slid his hand under my dress, squeezing my ass even as his action pushed the hem up enough to flash some flesh at the people around us. The idea that men were ogling my ass as DeVon fondled it made me writhe against him, less of a dance now.

  I bit down on DeVon's bottom lip, then sucked it into my mouth, reveling in the growl I felt reverberating through his chest. His mouth moved down my jaw even as his free hand tangled in the hair I'd left down to cascade over my shoulders. With a tug that sent a jolt straight through me, he yanked my head to the side and kissed his way down my neck.

  I dug my nails into his shoulders as he sucked the tender skin of my throat into his mouth. Ever since we'd gone public with our relationship, he'd been enjoying leaving hickeys and bite marks in visible places. My neck. Collarbone. The tops of my breasts. My eyelids fluttered as DeVon sucked on my neck, each pull making me wet.

  He slid his hand down my leg and pulled it up, hooking it around his hip. I ignored the fact that my skirt was rucking up around my waist and flashing my white thong. All I cared about was the way DeVon's cock was now rubbing against me just right.

  “Do you think you can get off like this?” DeVon asked as he sucked my earlobe into his mouth. He ground his pelvis against me and I moaned. “Dancing with all these people around us, knowing that all they have to do is look and they'll see your firm ass in those tiny little panties.”

  It hit me then. He wasn't going to let this go until I came. A thrill ran through me. I wasn't an exhibitionist. Not in a true sense where I'd want people watching me have sex, like on a stage or someone in my room, but this was different. Aside from the fact that I was actually clothed, the club wasn't brightly lit. People would see more shadows, the suggestion of what we were doing. If they were paying attention to us in the first place. People were probably more interested in their own partners.

  Still, it turned me on, knowing people could watch at least a bit while DeVon and I danced.

  He covered my mouth with his, the kiss hard and demanding. All of the desire I could feel in his body, the tension in his arms, how hard his cock was as it pressed against me, he poured all of it into that kiss. His tongue thrust into my mouth, exploring every inch of it. I moaned as I writhed against him, the fabric providing exquisite friction against my clit. We'd been together for almost a year and it was still fireworks every time we touched.

  His fingers tightened in my hair, sending little pinpricks of pain and pleasure into my scalp. He tore his mouth away from mine and our eyes met. The love and desire that burned there only made me want to come more. I loved being able to do what he asked. What he commanded. I loved the expression on his face when I obeyed.

  “Come, Ms. Jensen.”

  I smiled as I remembered how our first time together, he'd used my last name rather than my first, as if it could put a distance between us.

  “Come for me, baby.” His hand tightened on my hip, fingers digging into flesh, the extra pressure exactly what I needed.

  I groaned, biting my bottom lip to hold back the cry that wanted to escape. I shuddered as I came and DeVon released my leg. I put my foot on the floor, but it was DeVon's arms that held me steady, kept us moving to the music until the strength returned to my legs. Once I could stand on my own, I reached down and took his hand, moving us off of the dance floor. I waved at Dena and Leslie as we passed, but I didn't stop. I'd spend time with them tomorrow. As for Carrie and Gavin, I wasn't going to waste my time looking for them. I knew they were busy. And once DeVon and I got back to our hotel, I intended to be just as busy.

  Chapter Two

  Krissy

  “You packed the handcuffs?” I raised an eyebrow. I wasn't sure why I was surprised. I'd been on sever
al trips with DeVon in the time we'd been together and he believed in the Boy Scout motto of always being prepared. I just doubted whoever had come up with that motto had been thinking of sex toys at the time.

  DeVon and I had been all over each other from the moment we'd gotten into the town car Gavin had commissioned for us for the weekend. Before we'd gone more than a couple yards, DeVon'd had me stretched out on the seat and was pulling off my panties. I'd spared a moment to glance at the tinted window between us and the driver, but then DeVon had pushed my legs up so that my feet were flat on the seat – or at least as flat as they could be in heels – and I'd known what had been coming next.

  “Shh,” DeVon had cautioned. “I don't know how soundproofed it is back here.”

  I'd considered glaring at him, but then he'd pressed his mouth against the inside of my thigh, sucking and nipping at the tender skin there until I'd been fighting back moans. The first time he'd ever marked me, it had been in that same spot, a place where no one from work would've been able to see it since Mirage'd had strict no-fraternization policies at the time. Things had changed since DeVon and I had started dating.

  “I wonder how many times I can make you come before we get to the hotel?” he'd asked just before burying his face between my legs.

  Thanks to some traffic, the answer had turned out to be three times. Before I'd met DeVon, that would've been a record for a whole night with a lover. Since we'd gotten together, the four orgasms I'd had so far tonight had become about average. And I'd gotten the impression that tonight wasn't going to be average.

  He'd had to help me walk into the hotel and I'd been pretty sure the people we'd passed had thought I was drunk. I hadn't cared what they thought, as long as they hadn't realized that my panties had been in DeVon's pocket and that, despite DeVon's very attentive tongue, the insides of my thighs had been wet.