War is not an adventure. War is a disease. Like typhus.
Moira raised an eyebrow. “My, my, Landry. Aren’t you full of surprises?”
“My Vieux, that was his favorite saying, Mistress.”
Moira struck his backside with the crop. “On your back.” He dropped to the floor and rolled over, watching her again. “You like to be watched, Landry?” She trailed the crop down the center of his body. His breathing grew heavy as the leather tip moved lower. “What would you like me to watch you do, hmm?”
His breath caught as she brought the crop to a rest below his belt. “Mistress, I…”
She leaned over him. “I can order you around the room a thousand times if that’s what you want, but I don’t think it is.” She let her eyes flick over his body. “Tell me what you want.”
There was no question it was an order.
“I want…” He swallowed, eyes wide. “I want you to watch me. I want you to tell me how to touch myself.”
Moira smiled slowly. “What do you say?”
“Please, Mistress? Please tell me what to do.”
Moira stood, stepping over him to sit back in her chair. She tapped her crop in her hand and looked him over, hands straining at his sides. “Remove your belt and hand it to me.”
His hands flew to his belt, slowing when she cleared her throat in warning. With shaking hands and deliberate movements, he unbuckled the leather and slowly pulled it from around his waist before handing it to her.
She rolled his belt and set it on the lamp table beside her. “Rub your hand over yourself, Landry. Tell me how hard you are.”
He groaned, his hand sliding over the bulge in his cargo pants. “So hard it hurts, Maîtresse.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Pull that zipper down slowly now, and let’s see.”
His hands shook more as the zipper went down, tooth by tooth.
“Hitch those pants down a little, there’s a good boy.”
Landry’s hips rose as his thumbs shoved the waist of his cargos down.
Moira laughed. “Do you always go commando, Landry?”
“Mais only when I visit Maître Lacroix’s house, Maîtresse.”
His eyes stayed on hers as she pulled up a leg to tuck it against her. “You always were a smart boy.” She drew her thumb against her bottom lip slowly, watching as he freed himself the rest of the way. “Now take hold of yourself and draw up your cock nice and slow.”
He groaned, eyes darkening further as he watched her watch him. She talked him through, forcing him to stay slow, moving up and down, short strokes and long, rubbing his balls and head, until he was begging.
“I’m going to count to five, Landry. I don’t want you coming until I reach five.”
“Yes, Maîtresse,” he groaned, his hands still moving.
“One… Two… Three… Deep breath, Landry. Four… And gently for five.”
He groaned loudly, and with a few final strokes, came hard.
Moira stood with a smile to fetch him a towel while he lay breathless on the floor, chest heaving, white come dripping over his creamy brown skin.
“God, that’s a beautiful sight, Landry Boudreaux. Here.”
He caught the towel with a laugh. “Thank you, Mistress.”
She sat again, crossing her legs and tapping her lips with her finger. “You know, Landry…hmm.”
“Mistress?”
Moira narrowed her eyes and smiled slightly. “Nothing. I had a thought, that’s all.” She glanced at the clock. “But I’m afraid your time is up, so I have to leave you.” Standing, she looked down at him with a wink. “It was a pleasure, Mr. Boudreaux. I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”
Adrian was waiting outside the door as she suspected. Smiling.
“Adrian, you kinky son of a bitch. That was not funny.”
“Non, you were perfection, mon ange noir. Tell me, what were you thinking there at the end?”
She stared at him for a moment. “I was thinking he might be a good addition to your merry little band.”
Adrian’s response was to pull a card out of his vest pocket. “Give him this.”
Moira glanced at the card, black with a white fleur-de-lis and half-skull mask, with gold lettering that said La Danse Macabre. On the back was a date and time.
She looked back at Adrian, lifted an eyebrow and went back in the room.
Landry turned, his shirt falling into place over his chest. “Mistress?”
Moira held out the card. “Adrian’s compliments. See you there, soldier boy.” She turned back to the door as soon as he took the card, leaving him with a confused expression.
One that probably mirrored her own as she faced Adrian again.
He chuckled and offered her his arm.
“So what was that?”
“Recruitment, mon ange noir. You’ll see.”
Adrian walked her to the door and bid her a good night. Once there, Moira pulled out her phone, smiled at the text Kara had left for her, and walked out.
My place when you’re done!
She took a deep breath of the cool, late afternoon air and laughed at the noise from around Bourbon Street. The city was getting busier everyday, the celebrations increasing. Even on a Sunday afternoon, the crowds were raucous and chaotic, the krewes going nonstop.
I wonder if Kara wants to hit up the bars with me. I haven’t done that in forever.
Moira laughed again at the thought and walked faster to Kara’s. She had school tomorrow and shouldn’t go out tonight, but the idea wouldn’t leave her alone. She felt so alive, like New Orleans’ heartbeat was her own.
By the time she reached Kara’s, Moira had made up her mind. She opened her mouth the same time she opened the door, but the sound of Kara’s voice talking low made her freeze.
“No, it’s not like that. But you also know how I feel.”
Silence. Moira closed the door quietly, catching a glimpse of Kara pacing in the other room.
“I’m willing to take that risk.”
Moira’s heartbeat sped up. Who is she talking to?
“I don’t think it is.”
Another long pause. Moira sat down, her mind racing.
“But what if she does? I don’t know.”
Blood pounded in Moira’s head, drowning out anything else Kara might have said. What was she—who was she talking about?
“Moira?”
Kara stood in the door of the living room, phone still in her hand, staring at her. Moira shot out of the chair. “Was that…?”
Kara looked down, then tossed the phone to the coffee table. “Mistress Tamara. She’s decided to stay through Mardi Gras. But she asked me again.”
“Kara…” Moira closed the distance between them and wrapped her oldest friend in her arms. “What did you say?”
Kara hugged her back. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m ready for that decision.”
Moira pulled back, giving her a supportive look before her face split with a grin. “Let’s go out. You and me. Drink our way up Bourbon Street, do what we want, who we want. Whatever comes to mind. You know it’ll cheer you up.”
“You work tomorrow, you know.”
“Whatever. If I’m too hung over, I’ll call in. You’ve been hounding me for years to get into all the Mardi Gras insanity. Let’s just go!”
Kara stared at her and then laughed loudly, wrapping her in a bone-crushing hug. “Yes! All right, we’ll need to find you something to wear, or do you want to go back home and meet me?”
Moira laughed. “Hm, something in between boring schoolteacher and Pro-Domme? I may have to borrow—” She stopped, feeling suddenly mischievous as a smile spread across her face. “No, you know, I think I have the perfect thing. Meet you back here?”
Kara gave her a wicked smile. “Let’s meet at La Belle Dame. We can start with the good stuff while we can appreciate it and go from there.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Adrian tapped his fingers on his knee
and looked across his desk at Moira with a thoughtful expression. Moira and Kara hadn’t actually made it to Bourbon Street the night before. They hadn’t made it past Adrian’s bar, thanks to a pair of brothers who had caught their eyes. After crawling back to Kara’s in the predawn hours, Moira had called and taken the day off.
Adrian had called by ten, somehow knowing she wasn’t at work, and issuing a summons.
So there she sat, wishing she were still in bed with Kara. Adrian stared at her for a long moment, obviously waiting for Moira to squirm. When she didn’t, he smiled. “Mon ange noir, I have trained you too well. Which is, in fact, what I wished to vay-yay with you about.”
Moira sipped the coffee Kara had slipped into her hand before leaving her to Adrian. “Let me guess. You’re putting me to work.”
“Bon, mon ange. With the holiday bringing so many to En Ville, I need you available. I believe I did mention I was shorthanded. If ma Maîtresse Chance hadn’t been called home, things would be easier. But she is gone indefinitely, and you are now ma Maîtresse préférée.”
Moira lifted an eyebrow. “I would like to actually enjoy Mardi Gras, you know. And I still have to teach, though I could be convinced to take the week before the holiday off. My principal will probably have a heart attack, since I never take time off, especially not around now, but it might actually be fun.”
Adrian laughed. “Mais it will be fun, and you will enjoy it, I promise. However, I plan to take full advantage of you. Starting now. Your councilman is coming back, and he has asked for you specially.”
Moira blanched. “My councilman?”
“Oui, mon ange, you know the one. And before you faire la misère, I’ve agreed to allow you to break skin.”
Moira closed her eyes. “Fuck. That doesn’t actually make me feel better, Adrian.”
“Co faire? You are exactly the Dominatrix he has been looking for.”
“But you’re actually asking me to break skin!”
“Oui. And you’ll enjoy it.”
She shook her head. “Adrian, I had a panic attack after last time. Kara talked me down, but I was this close to quitting.”
“I know, mon ange.”
“What?”
Adrian grinned. “You think our Kara wouldn’t have told me?”
Moira rolled her eyes. “Of course she did. Traitor.”
He tutted. “She was only looking out for you.”
“I know. Still. I don’t know if I can do it, Adrian.”
“Oui, you will. Remember that he wants it, he has asked and begged for it. You have a bit of the sadist in you. Not much, but a little bit. Non, you will enjoy beating the councilman bloody, and I will enjoy watching that pain in my ass get exactly what he deserves.” He gave her a sly smile. “He is also paying three times for the privilege.”
Moira choked. “You’re kidding me.”
“For true.”
Moira shook her head slowly. “All right. How can I say no to that?”
“Bon.” Adrian pushed out of his chair and came around the desk to take Moira’s hand. “He’ll be here at two thirty, so you have…” He glanced at his watch. “Mais, not long enough. You’ll have to change here.”
Moira stood. “And what would you have done if I hadn’t come over? Beaten him yourself?”
Adrian winked. “Bien sûr. And I most certainly would have enjoyed it. Also, I’d like you and our Kara to stay here until after the holiday.”
“What? Why?”
“Mon ange, my house is quite comfortable. And not having to travel between school, your apartment, Kara’s and here will afford you more time to enjoy Mardi Gras.”
Moira glared at him. “And more time for you to put me to work.” Adrian smiled at the jab, but something felt off about the request. Even if he did have a point. “What’s the catch?”
“Really, mon ange, you wound me. Please, come stay. It will benefit us all. And I think you’ll enjoy yourself.”
“You said that already.”
“I meant it.”
Moira rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
“Bon. Now go change.”
Moira emerged from her session as satisfied as Adrian promised she’d be. The first bit of blood had almost undone her, but the man had groaned with so much pleasure it had shocked her out of any panic that might have taken over. And in the end, he’d thanked her profusely.
She grinned and stepped away from the door, stopping short a moment later when she heard voices in the hall. Adrian’s voice, without his usual humor.
“You’re certain?”
“There’s no doubt. Tony said he’d seen him twice.” She recognized the deep rumbling voice from the last time she’d overheard their conversation. Curiosity overwhelmed her, and Moira creeped closer.
“Maudit! This isn’t good, mon frère. Not at all.”
Peering around the corner, Moira caught sight of a tall man. Dark suit, black hair and beard, both trimmed very close, and somber, hooded eyes. His face and body were all angles and strong lines that screamed raw, sensual power. He said something that Moira didn’t catch, and Adrian replied before she could kick-start her brain into working again.
The stranger continued. “Do you want me to take care of it?”
She edged closer in time to see Adrian give the other man a sharp look. “I wouldn’t normally ask, mon frère, but I think, in this case…”
“I’ll make a call.”
“Bon, thank you.”
Moira scrambled away from the corner, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping. This conversation had been even stranger than the last, and her curiosity was off the charts. And the man Adrian had been with, there was something about him that both frightened her and excited her.
Something Kara had said at the club surfaced in her memory.
I wonder if that’s the infamous Gideon St. Sauveur. The accent matches and the jaw-dropping looks.
“Mon ange noir? Is everything all right?”
Adrian’s voice startled her out of her thoughts. She shook her head, trying to clear it. “Fine. Just lost in thought. Who were you—?”
“Your councilman was pleased with his session, oui? You did well.”
Moira made a confused face at the quick topic change. “Thank you. That was far more fun than I expected.”
“A little bit of the sadist in you, ma chère. As I said.” He offered his arm. “Come now, we have your schedule for the next few weeks to determine. Starting tonight. I want you and Kara both here by supper. I’m taking you out, and then I need you both, after.”
Moira groaned.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“I can’t believe he’s making us move into the house until Mardi Gras.” Kara leaned in the doorway of Moira’s room, wearing a slightly annoyed look and watching Moira pack.
“He’s planned out the whole next month, I think. I’m going to be in sessions every moment I’m not teaching, I bet. Tonight he’s breaking in Josephine, tomorrow he said we’re going recruiting.”
Kara’s face lit up. “At La Danse Macabre? I was hoping we’d get to take you there!”
Moira stuffed a last pair of shoes into her bag and zipped it up. “What is it?”
“Adrian’s other club.” She smiled wickedly. “Fleur de Nuit is the exclusive, by-invitation-only club. La Danse Macabre is the other, anybody-can-come club. We do a lot of recruiting for Fleur de Nuit there. Oh! This means you’ll get to meet Master Toussaint. You’ll love him. He’s a character.”
Moira gave her a confused look. “Master Toussaint?”
Kara winked and threaded her arm through Moira’s. “He runs La Danse Macabre for Adrian, and he goes all out for Mardi Gras. His family has been in New Orleans since before it was American. He’s got ties to all the old voodoo families in the area and can be downright terrifying if you cross him. But he’s an incredible Dom and loves the club.”
“So, not the kind of guy you want to meet in a dark alley, but great in a dark bedroom?”
&nb
sp; Kara laughed. “Exactly.”
“Sounds fun.” They walked out her front door and paused as Moira turned to lock it. She threw the deadbolt, and then leaned against the wall and looked at Kara. “Are you okay with tonight?”
Kara shrugged and took her arm again. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Moira raised her eyebrow and stared at her.
Kara rolled her eyes. “Fine. But yes, I’m okay with tonight. Besides, it’s not like you’re fucking her. Adrian is.”
Moira smiled. “I didn’t last time, you know.”
“Wait, what?”
Moira gave her a look and loaded her things into the car Adrian had sent to collect them. “I didn’t fuck her. I mean, I did, but only with a vibrator.” She shut the trunk and looked around at the early evening crowds. The whole town was buzzing, and she could feel it in her bones. Anticipation and excitement. Streetlights just coming lit as the sun grew low cast a glow over everything. She smiled at the light, the music and the noise, her eyes flitting over the bright colors until they settled on a face that looked back.
Moira froze. It can’t be.
Devon stepped in front of her, holding the door open and cutting off her view. She moved to the side, but whatever she thought she’d seen was gone.
She shook her head and climbed in the car where Kara stared at her expectantly. “What?”
“I asked why you didn’t fuck her. Are you all right, Moira?”
“Yeah, I…I’m fine.” She shook the oddness off and waited until the car started and Devon had them moving before answering further. “Because I didn’t want to. Don’t get me wrong, Josephine’s a beautiful girl and an excellent sub. But there was no attraction there. I was doing Tamara a favor, that’s all. Well, that wasn’t all, but the rest was between Tamara and me, not Josephine.”
Kara shook her head and leaned over to rest on Moira’s shoulder. Moira wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her forehead.
“I told you there was nothing to worry about. I’m happy to take female clients for Adrian, but Kara…” She took a deep breath and held her tighter. “I don’t think I will ever feel the same about another girl as I do about you.”
Fleur de Nuit: Bourbon Street Bondage, Book 1 Page 20