Fleur de Nuit: Bourbon Street Bondage, Book 1

by Cat Montmorency

  Moira paused, her face darkening. “And then I met Justin. Kara disliked him from the start. But I thought he was everything I wanted. Kind, romantic, always there for me. Except that he wasn’t. The story made the national news, actually. Justin Surley, whose favorite hobby was raping and murdering women at Washington and Lee University. I was the one who got away.” She grimaced and knocked back the rest of her wine, suddenly wishing it were something harder.

  Tamara stared at her. “You’re the one who put Surley away? God. I remember that. What they said on the news made me want to castrate him and set him on fire. Bastard.” She shook her head, then raised her glass. “You’re my new hero, I think. I can’t imagine living through that.”

  Moira refilled her glass, wishing it would take away the bitter taste of the past. “As has been pointed out, I wasn’t really living. Oh, I got through it, and Kara was there with me for the whole ordeal. The first person to show up at the hospital, before my parents, even. She was the one who drove me to all my physical therapy and mental therapy. And she was the one who held me when I woke up screaming in the middle of the night. Every night, until the combination of medication and therapy got me past it, for the most part.

  “But after we graduated, I couldn’t let her stay. I knew she would’ve. She’d always wanted to move to New Orleans, and when she got the chance, I practically shoved her out the door. Kara still begged me to come. But my mom had been diagnosed with cancer, and it made the perfect excuse to stay.”

  “So when you did move down here…”

  Moira nodded and took a long drink. “Mom died. I couldn’t stay. There wasn’t anything there for me anymore, and Kara, well, she was home. But even then, she was the only one who treated me like me. Everyone else saw me as too fragile. I’m sure a lot of that was my fault. Too timid, too content to let Kara live for me. She made me feel alive. Still does. Even now, I’m the most myself when I’m with her.”

  Tamara set her glass down and looked at her a long time before speaking again. “Adrian tells me Kara insisted on being your first female sub.”

  Moira smiled. “She did. That was, well, an eye-opening experience.”

  “Have you been with another girl since?”

  “No.”

  “But you’ve been with her again.”

  Moira raised her eyebrows in confirmation.

  Tamara leaned forward quickly, startling Moira into looking up. “Then I have a proposition for you.”

  Moira stared for a moment, drained her glass again and set it down empty on their table. “Shoot.”

  “Top my Josephine.”

  Moira turned her head slightly. “You want me to top your collared sub.”

  “She’s collared as a trainee, not a slave like Seth. And I already let you play with him,” she added with a wicked grin. “She’s kind of a gift for Adrian. He’s always complaining he needs more good subs, and Josephine wants to move down here to be near the other side of her family. Really, I’m only facilitating an introduction.”

  “Okay then. Why me?”

  “I need to make sure she’s comfortable with other Dommes, and you need more experience topping girls. It’s a win no matter how you look at it.”

  Moira played with the stem of her glass. “All right. I’ll do it. Not tonight, though. I’ve had way more of this wine than I should have.”

  Tamara laughed. “No, not tonight. Tomorrow?”

  “Hmm. I have a client tomorrow evening. Early, though, so maybe after?”

  “Perfect.”

  They talked for a little longer before Moira begged off, citing the fact that it was a school night. Tamara laughed, and they parted ways at the restaurant doors. The Bourbon Street crowd had overflowed onto Canal by then. Moira winced at the noise, already regretting the last glass of wine. But Tamara had intrigued her from start to finish, and she hadn’t expected that. Moira turned onto a quieter street and pulled out her phone.

  Kara answered on the first ring. “Hey sexy! Where’re you at?”

  “Walking. You’ll never guess who asked me to dinner.”

  “Ooo, mystery boy, I like! Who is he?”

  Moira laughed, letting her head fall back. She definitely shouldn’t have had that last glass of wine. “Not a boy, for starters. And it wasn’t like that.”

  There was a moment of silence before Kara answered. “Moira D’Arcangelis, are you drunk?”

  Moira shrugged. “Maybe.” She twirled in the street and laughed again. “Yes. I am. Definitely buzzed, at least. I had most of the bottle of wine myself, I think.”

  “Get that ass of yours over here, right now.”

  “That’s my Kara. You didn’t ask who I had dinner with.”

  Another moment of silence. She smiled at what she knew was Kara glaring at the phone.

  “Who did you go to dinner with?”

  “Your Mistress Tamara. She showed up at school looking like a naughty librarian and asked if I wanted to get dinner.”

  Silence.

  “Kara Deschamps, speechless! I think that’s the first time in my life.”

  “Moira, where are you?”

  She laughed at the seriousness in Kara’s voice. “Guess.” She followed with a sharp rap on the door. Her phone went dead as the door opened. Kara stood there in sleep shorts and a tank top, a ponytail and a mildly disapproving look. Moira waggled her eyebrows and walked in. “Is there anything you don’t look hot in? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not looking good, you know that?”

  Kara rolled her eyes and shut her door. “You are definitely more than buzzed. I need bourbon if I’m going to talk to you. I assume you want some too?”

  “Yes, please!” Moira dropped her things and collapsed onto the couch.

  Kara handed her a glass and squeezed in next to her. “What did Mistress Tamara want?”

  Moira sipped the bourbon, letting the smoky heat trail down her throat. “God, that’s good. You always get the good stuff.” She set the glass down on the coffee table and leaned against Kara, wrapping an arm around her. “She wants you.”

  Kara snorted. “So she asked you out to dinner? I feel like I’m missing the connection.”

  “Oh, she wants me to top her sub. Josephine. The strawberry-blonde? Apparently she’s a gift for Adrian, and I’m supposed to see if she’s ready or some nonsense. And she thinks I need experience with more girls than just you.” She said that last with a bit of a pout.

  Kara knocked back her bourbon and set the glass down with a wince. “What did you say?”

  “I said I would. You should come. We’re meeting at Adrian’s tomorrow after I’m done with my client.”

  “Maybe.”

  Moira’s hand slid down Kara’s stomach. “You’re so tense. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you tense.”

  “I’m cranky because you got drunk without me.” Her tone said otherwise.

  “Ha. I don’t believe you.” Moira’s teeth nipped at Kara’s jaw as her hand plunged under the sleep shorts she wore. She smiled at Kara’s gasp of surprise, and pushed a finger and then two into her. “Does that help?”

  Kara moaned. “Maybe I should get you drunk more often.”

  Moira nuzzled at her neck. “That wasn’t an answer, my best subbie friend.” Her free hand slid under Kara’s sleep tank, brushing over her breasts, and lifting the shirt. Kara gasped again, her back arching at the combined sensation of Moira’s fingers moving in her, and Moira’s mouth as it closed on her nipple.

  “God. Yes, Mistress. That helps.”

  Moira’s teeth pulled at her nipple and then released as her fingers continued their slow rhythm. Her hand drifted up to Kara’s neck, tracing her collarbone and up her throat as Kara squirmed. “She wants to put a collar on this gorgeous neck of yours.” She ran her fingers along her soft skin. “She wants to tame you. Do you want a collar? An owner?”

  “Moira, I—”

  Moira pinched at her nipple hard, making her yelp. She shifted, leaning up over Kara as she sli
pped farther down the couch. Her fingers pushed deeper, harder, while her other hand circled Kara’s neck. She slowly stroked up and down the column of her neck. “I’m not that drunk, Kara. I know what you’re supposed to call me.”

  “I’m sorry, Mistress. I—” Her words tumbled off into a core-deep moan, her back arching as Moira bent to suckle at her breast again.

  Moira smiled as she sucked and nipped, her tongue rubbing the hardened nipple as she pushed a third finger deep. “Would you like to come, Kara, my beautiful girl?”

  “Yes, Mistress, please…”

  Moira laughed and switched to the other breast. She hummed her pleasure, a quiet counterpoint to Kara’s growing need. She slowly pulled away, releasing her nipple and rising up until she captured Kara’s eyes. Once she was sure Kara was watching, she slowly slid her whole body lower, letting her nose and lips trail along the skin of her friend’s torso. Her free hand tore at the shorts Kara still wore, an ungraceful one-handed fumbling attempt to disrobe her without stopping what she was doing. Because if she stopped, she’d think about what she was doing—drunkenly going down on her best friend. But God, the taste of her skin, the smell of her arousal… And this was so much more intimate, more personal, and the idea of her face buried between Kara’s beautiful thighs was suddenly all she could think about.

  God, she needed this. Needed Kara, needed to claim her this way, to show her—to show her what? She nipped at Kara’s slender hip, glancing back up to find green eyes locked on her, begging silently. A look that set Moira on fire with the need to answer it. With a desperate yank, she managed to finally get rid of the shorts, and Moira’s tipsy mind only had attention for one thing. Except it wasn’t the alcohol anymore that had her like this. It only made the doubt vanish. She was drunk on Kara, on her smell, on the need in her eyes, the soft desperation in the noises she made.

  Eyes still locked with Kara’s, Moira bit her lip and crooked the fingers still wrapped in velvety warmth, rubbing into that one perfect spot that made her whimper so beautifully. Leaning in, she gently kissed Kara’s bare mons, then wrapped her whole mouth around her clit. She sucked, humming at the pleasure the simple action gave her, and chuckled at the way it made Kara moan and buck her hips. She wrapped her free hand around Kara’s thigh, pinning her down. Dragging the flat of her tongue along the swollen nub, Moira curled her fingers in shallow thrusts that rubbed against her G-spot, while Kara mewled with delight. She sucked harder as her fingers worked, laving her tongue against her rigid bud, while savoring the salty sweet taste of her wetness, a taste that turned her on more than she thought was possible.

  She lost herself in Kara, in the wet heat surrounding her fingers, in the needy, noisy thrashing of her hips, in the taste of her. Until she felt Kara’s entire body trembling under her. Only then did Moira whisper against her, “Come for me.”

  Kara’s body surged, her inner muscles clenching tight against Moira’s fingers. Moira smiled, stilling her fingers, but letting her mouth gently coax her through the aftershocks of orgasm. She didn’t move until Kara lay quiet but for her exhausted breathing. Then, Moira turned her head and gently kissed the soft skin of Kara’s thigh with a relaxed hum.

  And when Kara grew calm again, Moira moved so her head rested on Kara’s stomach and sighed contentedly. “I’m not letting her have you,” she mumbled. “Not without a fight.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Thank you, Mistress Dark Angel. I’ll definitely be requesting you again.”

  Moira smiled at her client. “Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed our session.”

  Adrian wasn’t waiting at the door when she left, but she could hear his voice, the telltale slow Louisiana drawl punctuated by intermittent French. She looked around, but he wasn’t in sight.

  “What did you find out?”

  Moira froze, her hand still on the doorknob behind her. The answering voice was a deep rumble, with a hint of an accent, but she couldn’t make out what he said before Adrian answered.

  “Absolutely not. Keep looking. I need time, mon frère, and more answers.”

  Moira’s curiosity was piqued. She wondered what they were talking about—what had Adrian sounding so nervous? Worried? But even more, she wondered who the other man was.

  “Bien fait, mon ange noir.”

  Moira jumped. She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t seen Adrian walk up to her.

  Adrian’s eyebrows lifted in an amused expression. “Everything all right, ma chère?”

  “Yes, it’s fine. Who were you—?”

  Adrian waved her question away, and his expression shifted to one of immense pride as he offered his arm. “You did an excellent job, mon ange noir.”

  She took his arm. “Thank you, Maître. You have no idea how hard it was not to laugh. Naughty Teacher fetish? Really?”

  “The world takes all kinds, mon ange. I thought you’d appreciate it.”

  Moira laughed. “Oh, I appreciated it. But right now, I would appreciate food even more. And being able to change out of this ridiculous outfit.”

  Adrian stopped and stepped back to admire her. “I don’t think it’s ridiculous at all. Au contraire. C’est magnifique.” He gave her a lusty smile.

  Moira shook her head with a smile and wagged a finger at him. “Don’t get any ideas, Adrian. I have a session with Tamara and her sub tonight, and you know it. I don’t need you exhausting me. What I need is food, and now.”

  Adrian laughed, putting her hand back on his arm and leading her on. “Mon pauvre ange noir. At least let me take you to dinner then. Bon?”

  “Very bon.”

  “Très bon. I’ve called in a favor. They’re holding seats for us at Brennan’s.”

  “Swanky.”

  Adrian chuckled. “Only the best, mon ange.” He snapped his fingers, and Devon appeared out of nowhere. In no time, they were in Adrian’s car as Devon slowly wove his way through the marginally drivable streets.

  Inside Brennan’s, Moira smiled as Adrian pulled out her chair on the cozy second-floor balcony, and sat while the waiter returned with wine. Moira picked up her menu, but Adrian took it and ordered the pompano a la plancha for them both, and then shooed the waiter away.

  Moira gave him her best excuse me? look.

  Adrian smiled. “You are on a schedule, n’est-ce pas?”

  “You just like ordering.”

  “Oui, this is also true.” He sat back and sipped his wine. “Have you had the vay-yay with our Kara yet?”

  Moira reached out for her wine and thought better of it. “Sort of. Not really.”

  “I had the most interesting call from her this morning.”

  Moira winced and sipped her wine anyway. “I might have shown up at her place a little drunk last night.”

  “Oui? Do tell, please. She asked if she could have a session tonight.”

  Moira had a flash of memory, recalling the first session she’d witnessed. Kara, mostly naked, bound and gagged on her knees, being whipped by the brewmaster Ian, and loving every minute of it. Moira looked away.

  “Tell me what happened yesterday, mon ange.”

  Moira took another sip and forced herself to put it back on the table. “First I need you to promise to enforce a strict two-drink limit for me tonight.”

  Adrian gave her a look that was both sad and amused. “If L’Ange Noir insists.”

  “I don’t need to go into a session tipsy, thanks.” Moira sighed, and sat back. “Tamara came to see me after work. We went to dinner and discussed how she thinks I’ve had Kara long enough. And then she asked me to top Josephine tonight. Oh, and I drank too much wine, which resulted in me showing up at Kara’s drunk. I was drunk, and things were weird, and I’m pretty sure I told her Tamara couldn’t have her. After I went down on her.”

  Adrian leaned back on his chair and rested his chin in his hand. “Why did Tamara ask you to top Josephine, do you think?”

  “You really like to play therapist, don’t you? She probably thinks if I g
et more experience with girls, the novelty of Kara being my first will wear off.”

  “Mais, do you think she’s right?”

  Moira took a deep breath, remembering the surge of possessiveness she’d felt, and the taste of Kara on her tongue. “No.”

  Their waiter chose that moment to reappear with food. They waited in silence while he arranged their plates and asked if they needed anything else, and then they continued their conversation when he’d left.

  “No, I don’t think she’s right. Kara… She’s always been in my life. Nothing can change how I feel about her, unless it’s to make my feelings stronger.”

  “Then agreeing to top Josephine tonight, it’s your proof of concept, as it were. And you told Kara, oui?”

  Moira took a bite and let the spicy shrimp burn her mouth. She gave an appreciative sigh before answering. “I told her about the conversation and invited her to come tonight.”

  “Dieu m’aide. Small wonder she asked for Gideon.”

  Moira choked and dropped her fork. The crash of the utensil on the plate sounded louder than a cannon to her. “What? She’s terrified of him. Called him scary as fuck. Said she’d never let him top her, because he didn’t top, he owned.”

  Adrian raised his eyebrow. “She has the right of it.”

  “Then why? Why would she do that?”

  Adrian sighed. “Mon ange noir, you women are supposed to be better at analyzing relationships than men.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that you and your Kara seriously need to have that vay-yay. And sooner would be far preferable to later.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Then you need to ask her. Now eat, you have a busy night ahead of you.”

  Moira stared at him and then shook her head and went back to eating. But the idea that Kara had called Adrian because of something she’d said or done last night wouldn’t let her go.

  Moira left the dungeon with a pleased smile. She’d left Tamara with Josephine, but the Domme had given her a pleased and impressed look as she’d walked out. Moira had invited her to participate, and the two of them had given Josephine the most thorough working over Moira had ever been a part of. She was truly loving the variety that kink offered. It was amazing the things she found that turned people on.