Fleur de Nuit: Bourbon Street Bondage, Book 1

by Cat Montmorency

  “Would you like the tour, ma chère?”

  Moira shook her head and smiled. “You really have to ask? This place is amazing.”

  “Oui, c’est vrai. So much history.”

  The waiter eagerly led them around the building, through the Main Dining Room and the Large Annex, past the kitchens and the smaller dining rooms. The brightly colored Rex Room, named for The Krewe of Rex, a standing homage to Mardi Gras. The Mystery Room, with its Prohibition ties. The Japanese Room, closed for forty-three years after Pearl Harbor, before it was reopened. Even the long, narrow wine cellar. And everywhere, the walls were lined with photographs, some recent, some dating back to the restaurant’s opening.

  Finally, the waiter stopped ahead of them, his arm out. “The 1840 Room, Mr. Lacroix. The wine is open, and I’ll be right back with your food.”

  The room was a deep red, with a crackling fireplace and more old photos. Moira let her eyes do a slow dance around the room as Adrian helped her sit. She looked back at him in time to see his eyes flash at the amount of skin now showing below her dress.

  She smiled and crossed her legs. “See something you like, Adrian?”

  He ran his thumb across his bottom lip and slowly raised his eyes to hers. “Tout à fait, mon ange noir. This is the Maîtresse you need to be in public. It feels good, non?”

  It did. It felt very good.

  Adrian sat without taking his eyes from her, and if the waitstaff hadn’t intruded with their food, Moira was fairly certain one of them would’ve been up against a wall in another minute. As it was, she was sure neither of them appreciated the food nearly as much as it deserved.

  It was delicious. But the chateaubriand and the gombo creole couldn’t hold a candle to the heated glances Adrian sent her way all night.

  Still, they took their time, savoring both the food and the slow-burning company. Moira spent the entire meal testing out the techniques Adrian had been teaching her. When the waiter came to inquire after dessert, Adrian practically roared at the poor man to bring the check. Moira simply laughed and ordered the gateau chocolat d’Yvonne.

  Adrian scowled at her when the waiter left. “Mon ange noir, you’re tormenting me.”

  “Aren’t you the one who’s been telling me to be confident and enjoy myself? That chocolate cake is famous all over New Orleans. I’m not leaving without trying it.”

  The corner of Adrian’s mouth twitched up. “Touché, mon ange. Enjoy your gateau. But making me wait has its consequences.”

  Moira smiled, and when her cake came, she ate as slowly as she could manage, taunting him with every bite. It was more fun than she could imagine. A month ago, she’d never have imagined doing anything like it, and she felt incredibly proud of herself.

  Until they were walking out and Adrian’s hand clamped down on the back of her neck.

  “Dammit, Adrian…”

  “Moira, ma chère, mon ange noir. Listen and learn. This is a common technique. It shows power, ownership. All without a look, all with a simple touch. Mais if I don’t touch you, I’ll have you here on the street. You’ve been taunting me all night.” He took a deep breath and kept them walking. “You feel the power, oui? Understand it. You may only be able to use this if your sub is kneeling, but there are other ways. The intent is what matters. Feel the difference.” His grip lightened, became a caress. “All with the twitch of a muscle.”

  Moira forced her thoughts away from his touch and onto his words. He was right, she was too short to use that particular technique. It was also turning her on in the worst way.

  “It is something to think about, non? Possession in a touch.”

  She nodded. It was indeed.

  His hand drifted farther down her back as they turned off Bourbon Street, shifting her thoughts to a different kind of touch, in different places. He fondled her discreetly all the way home, and by the time they reached Adrian’s, her panties were soaked through and her body was humming.

  His hand closed hard on her arm as the door shut behind them, but she didn’t give him time to cement the grip. She turned and broke his grasp, shoving him back into the door with a force that surprised even her. Grabbing his tie, she yanked his mouth down to hers.

  “How’s this?” she whispered, before closing her lips on his.

  His answer was two hands grasping her ass and lifting her up. She heard the lace of her dress tear and didn’t care. Adrian had bought it, and if he wanted to ruin it, fine by her. Moira smiled, wrapped her legs firmly around his waist and kissed him harder.

  Adrian growled, his long strides carrying them upstairs and down the hall in no time. He didn’t stop until he’d slammed a second door and pushed her hard against a wall.

  She laughed. “The side table again? I don’t think it can stand another round.”

  He snarled, ripping off his jacket. “This is my room, mon ange, but non. I’m going to have you on a bed if I have to tie you down.”

  She yanked his shirt out of his pants, popping buttons as she proved too impatient to undo them all. “Not a chance. But I’m happy to tie you to the bed.”

  His hands slid possessively up her thighs while she pulled off his tie. “Only if you can pin me, ma chère. And that I sincerely doubt, though I do believe I’d love to see you try.”

  Moira gasped as he shredded the lace of her panties, ripping them off her. She looped the tie over his head and pulled him close with a grin. “Try me.”

  “Bonne chance, mon ange noir.” He lifted her up again, toeing off his shoes as he walked them to the bed. He didn’t give her time to get away, lowering them both down until he covered her.

  She gave him a minute, testing the weight of him and enjoying the flex of his muscles against her. And then she shifted her grip and her weight, and flipped him.

  He laughed as she straddled him. “Coo, ma chère! Hold on, now—”

  His protest came too late. Moira yanked the tie tight around his wrist and tied a quick knot in the headboard. He reached up for it, annoyance written on his face, but she grabbed his free hand in both of her own and put all her weight into pushing it back to the bed.

  “Two can play at that, mon ange.” He caught her with his legs, pinning her back down and rolling onto her. She squirmed, smiling.

  “Choices, Adrian. You can keep me pinned or untie your hand, but you can’t do both.” She freed the hand he didn’t have held in his own and unbuckled his belt, yanking it out of his pants.

  He thrashed, looking back between his hand and her. “I can fuck you as well with one hand tied, ma chère.” He gasped as her hand slipped into his boxers and gripped him tight. “Mon Dieu, you’ll be the death of me.”

  The distraction loosened his grip enough for Moira to free her other hand and use his own trick against him. Her legs scissored around him, flipping him again. Her dress ripped more as she quickly looped the belt around his other wrist and tied it to the headboard as well.

  Adrian glared at her. “Mon ange noir, I do believe you’ve been hiding things from me.”

  Moira ripped his pants off and smiled at him. “I’m surprised you didn’t know about the jiu jitsu classes I took after the mess with Justin. Kara insisted.”

  “I’ll have to have a chat with our Kara.” He watched her with burning eyes as she straddled him. “Have a heart. I wanted so to rip that dress off you.”

  She leaned over him, kissing her way up his chest and letting her hair fall over him. “I could be convinced to untie you.”

  He groaned as her fingers and tongue played over him. “You are well named, mon ange noir. Mon diable. A devil dressed as an angel. What will you make me do?”

  “Promise not to tie me down in revenge.”

  “Is that all? As much as I really would love to do just that, I suppose I can agree to your terms.”

  She smiled and kissed along his jaw. “And I’ll need you to beg.”

  “Je ne crois pas. I trained you too well. I am not a sub for you to order me around. I am ton Maître
, your teacher.”

  Moira smiled and sat up, pressing against his erection, and shimmied the torn dress a little farther up her waist. “You’re tied to a bed with your student over top of you. I don’t think you’re in a position to protest.”

  “Maudit! God above, mon ange, please.” He threw his head back and groaned. “I need my hands on you. Ça va, I will die.”

  Moira pushed herself back, sliding his cock under her. She bit her lip as it dragged across her wetness. “I don’t know, Adrian. I have you here, waiting, so ready.” She shifted, aligning herself so his tip pushed at her entrance. “Why should I untie you?”

  “Fils de putain! I’m begging you, ma chère. You’ll enjoy it so much more with my hands on you. I promise to stay right where I am. I’ll even let you beat me after.” He groaned loudly as she inched his cock into her. “God in heaven, mon ange. Mon Maîtresse. Please untie me. You’re using me without even a condom.”

  She sat back, pushing him all the way into her with a moan. “It’s not like I can get pregnant. And we’re both clean, right?” She laughed at his pained agreement. “But I suppose this might be more fun if I let you participate.”

  “Oui, I’ll chew through my tie if you don’t. And then I’ll be forced to beat you with my belt, because that’s one of my favorite ties.”

  Moira laughed and pulled herself up to untie him. The feel of his thick cock sliding out of her as she moved almost changed her mind, but the pain on Adrian’s face made it worth it. Her fingers made quick work of the belt, but took longer with the silk that he’d pulled so tight.

  “I will take my tongue to your lovely wet galette if you don’t hurry, mon ange.”

  She laughed. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

  With a quick tug, she freed the tie from the headboard. Adrian’s hands were all over her in a heartbeat. They grabbed at the tear in the hem and ripped upward. The dress was in pieces in moments.

  And then Moira found herself on her back, while Adrian thrust hard into her. Her back arched high, and she couldn’t keep in the moan of pleasure that tore from her throat. “God damn you, Adrian. You promised—”

  “Maudit. I lied.” His mouth covered hers in a hard kiss, cutting off any further complaint as he thrust harder into her. His hands traced her body, pinched at her nipples, his fingers dug into her hard enough to make bruises.

  He swallowed her screams as she came, but he didn’t slow down. He shifted positions, pulling his knees under him, and then tugged her into his lap. They rocked together, skin slapping loudly, hands roving, fingers digging in tight from shoulder to ass and everything in between. Moira bit along his jaw and down his neck and shoulder, which only encouraged him.

  She came again, harder than before. Her nails broke the skin of his back, raking red lines up his shoulder and sending him over the edge after her.

  They collapsed together on the bed, gasping for breath, with Adrian muttering in French or Cajun or both.

  “Maudit, ma chère.”

  Moira laughed. “Indeed.”

  “You make me want to have a cigarette, and I’ve never smoked in my life. It’s almost a shame you’re not a sub, though I must admit to enjoying your feistiness.” He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to his chest. “I have a proposition for you, mon ange noir.”

  She frowned slightly and ran her finger up and down his chest. “I’m listening.”

  “D’you know the difference between a Domme and a Dominatrix?”

  Moira turned her head so her chin rested on his chest. “No?”

  “A Domme is simply a femme Dominant. A Dominatrix, or a Pro-Domme, is one who does it for money.” His long finger quickly covered her lips. “And before you protest, there is a great bit of difference between a Dominatrix and a whore. A Dominatrix is paid to cater to her clients’ power fetishes, not for sex. There is no sex, only domination.”

  She turned his words over in her head. “So, whips, chains, ordering around, humiliation, all of that. But no sex.”

  “Yes, exactly. All that and more, depending on the client’s needs and desires. But no sex.”

  “Okay?”

  “I want you to work for me as one. You’ll debut at Fleur de Nuit in two weeks, regardless. But I do believe you’d make a fantastic Dominatrix, and that you’d also enjoy it.”

  “But no sex.”

  Adrian laughed and Moira smiled. “Mon ange noir, you would still be welcome to both my subs and my bed, if that’s what’s worrying you.”

  Moira bit her lip.

  “Ma chère, it makes me very hard when you do that.”

  She smiled, but didn’t stop. “Is that why you bought all that today?”

  “Peut-être. I hoped, but I also wish to present you as the Domme I know you can be. Who you proved tonight you can be. We will, of course, keep working on your confidence. The woman I saw tonight, I want to see all the time, whether you’re with me or not. Be a Domme in all parts of your life, and you’ll have the control you wanted so much when you first came to me. Regardless, I do hope you’ll consider my offer.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  His hand drifted down her back to trace the curve of her ass. She shivered.

  “I’ll be disappointed. But that will not change your welcome.”

  Moira bit her lip again and then dipped her head to kiss his chest. He tasted salty and smelled of sex and heat, and she wanted him again. More, she wanted what he was offering.

  “I’ll do it.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The heaviness pinning her down sent Moira’s sleep-disoriented mind spiraling into panic.

  Oh God.

  He’s here. He’s here, and I’m trapped.

  God, no.

  No no no nononononono—

  Large hands pulled at her, and she struggled harder. Desperation to get away overwhelmed her.

  This can’t be happening. I can’t do this again!

  She was vaguely aware of his voice, saying words her brain couldn’t or wouldn’t process, and of a strange keening coming from somewhere. But none of it mattered. All that mattered was escaping.

  And suddenly, she was. She was free, falling off the bed and stumbling up across the floor—

  Light flooded the room, breaking through her panic. Wait. This isn’t—

  “Maudit, mon ange!”

  Moira slowly turned. “Adrian.” She breathed his name, embarrassed horror pouring over her. “Oh God.” She wrapped her hands around herself unconsciously, one hand covering her mouth. She fought to bring her racing heart under control. “I’m so sorry.”

  Adrian stood across the room with a wary look on his face. Three long red scratches ran over his jaw. But as she watched, his body sagged and his wary look turned worried. “Are you all right, chère?”

  Moira nodded, even as she held herself tighter.

  “You had a flashback?”

  She nodded again. “I—” Moira swallowed, trying to wet the dryness in her throat. “I haven’t slept over with a man since…” She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the terror. “I woke up and I couldn’t move and I panicked.” She suddenly felt exposed and mortified, and her feet moved before her brain even processed what she was doing. “I need to go. I need to call Kara. I need—”

  Adrian’s arms wrapped around her, his voice whispering soothing words. “Shhh, mon ange, calm yourself. You’re safe here, remember? Here is where you take control.”

  A single sob shuddered through her. “I need to call Kara.”

  “Ma chère, you may call Kara if you like, I won’t stop you.” His arms tightened for a brief moment, then relaxed again as he lowered his head against her neck. “But breathe for a moment. Calm yourself. Look around. Nothing here will harm you.”

  Moira leaned back into him, letting his voice and his arms soothe her. “I’m sorry.”

  “Arrête-toi, mon ange. You have nothing to apologize for.” He breathed her in, and then pulled back. “Come, sit.”

&
nbsp; He pulled her to the bed, and she didn’t argue, just sat with him.

  “Do you always call Kara when this happens?”

  Moira’s eyebrows drew together. “I do. I hadn’t realized it, but I do. God, Adrian, I’m such a—”

  “Stop, Moira.” His finger on her lips stopped her as he said the words. “You can’t expect that all your history and all your trials would vanish in a blink. Your Kara has been a lifeline for a very long time, and it’s a role she is happy to play. You’ve made enormous strides these last few weeks. Don’t belittle that, ma chère. And don’t think it’ll all change overnight. You understand?”

  Moira looked away. “I’ve felt so amazing these last few days. Like my old self. Like a new self. And then something like this happens, and none of it matters, because I’m still terrified. I’m still a victim, no matter how much I try to escape it.”

  “Moira, mon ange noir, look at me.” She turned slowly, until he held her chin in one hand. “You are not a victim. You were, but you are no longer. You are a strong woman, a Domme that I am proud to be training. Hold that. Remember that, especially during the times when it’s hard to.”

  She nodded, and when he opened his arms, she gratefully folded herself into them.

  “Now, ma chère, come back to bed. Because this ungodly hour of the morning is only good for two things, and we’re doing neither of them.”

  Moira laughed, finally feeling better, and let him pull her back to the tangled sheets. But when they’d finished, and Adrian had fallen back asleep, she gathered her things and left.

  “Sweet God in heaven, Kara. Please close the curtains before I’m forced to get out of this bed and kill you.”

  Kara laughed, but the light disappeared for the most part. A moment later, the bed dipped and Moira felt Kara’s arm drape over her.

  “Please tell me you got incredibly wasted last night and had incredible sex.”

  Moira smiled, in spite of the blinding headache the lack of sleep and her early morning panic had given her. “I didn’t get wasted. But I did have incredible sex, of the dress ripping and fucking all fucking night variety. I only barely got home…” she peered out from under the covers at her phone, “…an hour ago, and I’m exhausted. I have never wanted sleep so much in my life, and I include senior college exam week in that.”