Wedding Favors

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  He hadn’t meant to stay the entire night. But sometime while keeping her company and making sure she was all right, he’d conked out beside her.

  Aside from his shoes, he remained fully dressed. But that didn’t change the fact that he’d bunked down with a guest.

  Yeah, and he’d bound her to a bondage wheel, too. He’d had his very wicked, wicked way with her.

  She stirred in her sleep, and he gazed intently at her. She looked so pretty, so soft, like a butterfly fairy. He couldn’t help feeling protective.

  Strange to want to dominate a woman so badly yet be obsessed with the delicate side of her.

  At this point, there was no reason to rush out of her room. Besides, if he wanted to sleep until noon, that was his business. He rarely took a day off, and, by damn, he needed one today. But, still, he’d better call Claire.

  He patted himself down and found his cell phone crammed in his pocket, where it had been since the wedding. He hadn’t purposely taken it to the dungeon, but now he was glad it was available.

  To keep from disturbing Kendra, he went out on the balcony to make his call.

  He speed dialed Claire and told her that he was going to chill out for the day. She didn’t question him further, but she probably suspected that he’d hooked up with Kendra. Claire had good instincts. Not so good that she would suspect him of kinky misdeeds, though.

  After ending the call, he returned to the room and noticed that his new lover was awakening.

  Blinking into the light, she sat up and leaned against the headboard, the covers draped around her waist.

  She started when she saw him. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

  He shoved his phone back in his pocket. “I fell asleep beside you.” He’d held her exceptionally close, too. “How do you feel?”

  “Fine.” She fussed with the straps on her nightgown, making sure they were in place. Then she smiled, as if her modesty made no sense.

  It didn’t, he supposed, but he didn’t mind. To him, it only reinforced her innocence.

  He returned her smile. “I could use some coffee. How about you?”

  “Totally. New Orleans has the best coffee.”

  “It’s the chicory. Stay put, and I’ll make it.”

  The coffeemaker was on the counter outside the bathroom. He scooped the Café Du Monde blend into the filter and stayed there while it brewed, waiting for the liquid to drip into the carafe.

  Upon completion, he called out to her, “How do you take it?”

  “More sugar than cream,” she called back.

  James doctored hers first, then took care of his. He carried both cups and handed her the sweeter of the two.

  She took a sip. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” She drew her knees up, and the covers fell partially away. “I didn’t dream last night.”

  “Maybe being in the dungeon made the difference.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.” She looked across the rim of her cup at him. “Do you think the fountain had anything to do with it?”

  He turned the question around. “Why? Do you?”

  She nodded. “I feel like I’m under a spell.”

  “So do I, and I didn’t even make a wish.”

  “Maybe the magic that got me rubbed off on you.”

  “With voodoo I suppose anything is possible. It’s funny, too, because I’ve walked past the jaillissement de Plaisir a zillion times, but I’ve never actually gone into the courtyard or looked at the fountain.”

  She seemed surprised. “Why not?”

  “I never had any reason to.”

  “You should see it up close, James. The muses in the centerpiece are beautiful.”

  “That’s what I’ve heard. I’ll have to check it out sometime.” He shifted in his chair. “I should have told you this when I first sent you there, but the fountain is next to a maison. That’s slang in the Quarter for bordello. Or house of ill repute or whatever.”

  She widened her eyes. “I didn’t see anything like that.”

  He couldn’t help but grin. She looked properly shocked. “It’s a high-end place, disguised as a boutique hotel.”

  Kendra put her coffee on the nightstand. “Have you been there?”

  “To the maison? Me? Not likely.”

  “Oh, right.” She half teased, half reprimanded him. “Says the man with a dungeon in his attic and a cabinet crammed with sex toys. Who did you plan on using all that stuff on?”

  “No one. At least not consciously.”

  “You bought condoms. That’s conscious.”

  “What responsible man doesn’t have a supply of protection these days?”

  “You have just about every type imaginable.”

  “So I like variety. Besides, what are you complaining about? I’m going to be trying them out on you.”

  “So you are.” A quick smile, followed by a pout. “I wish we didn’t have to wait until tonight to go back to the dungeon.”

  Damn. He put his cup down, his mind spinning in an illicit direction. “Maybe we could sneak up there this afternoon, unless you already made other plans for the day.”

  Her gaze locked onto his. “I didn’t. I haven’t. I’m completely free. But don’t you have to work?”

  “Normally I would, but I decided to take the day off. So, do you want to meet me up there?”

  “Just tell me when.”

  “As soon as we’re both ready.”

  “It might take me longer to get ready than you.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll wait for you in the dungeon. But bring your key. I don’t like leaving the attic unlocked.”

  She smiled. “And understandably so.”

  He got out of his chair and crawled onto the bed. He gave her a chicory-laced kiss and whispered, “I’m going to chain you up and fuck you good and hard.”

  “Promise?” she whispered back.

  “Absolutely.” Enthralled, he kissed her again, then left her room and headed to his apartment to prepare for their liaison, anxious to keep his promise.

  As expected, James was the first to arrive in the dungeon. But that gave him time to decide on what method of restraints to use and how he wanted the scene to unfold.

  A short while later Kendra showed up. Bright and afternoon fresh, her hair gleamed and her skin was rosy from her shower or bath. Clothes-wise, she’d chosen a sleeveless yellow top, pleated shorts, and sandals.

  After he’d gotten cleaned up, he’d donned a casual T-shirt and jeans. Between the two of them, they looked as if they were going on a sun-kissed outing, maybe to the aquarium or the zoo, when, in fact, they were messing around in a windowless dungeon.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “I’m more than ready.”

  He pointed to the wall shackles. “Then go over there and strip down to your underwear.”

  She obeyed, giving James the desperate makings of a hard-on. Away went her top and shorts. She discarded her sandals, too.

  She was wearing simple lingerie: a basic white bra and matching bikini panties. He appreciated the simplicity. He admired her body, too: gentle curves and small, round breasts.

  He approached her, and she watched him through veiled lashes. Taking the liberty of getting her naked, he removed her bra and panties.

  “Pretty sub,” he said.

  “Sub?”

  “Submissive.” One by one, he lifted her arms and cuffed her wrists so she was shackled to the wall. “You look like a virgin sacrifice.”

  “I feel like one.”

  Yeah, and she liked it, he thought. Anxious, he turned away, walked over to the cabinet, and rifled through the toys.

  After putting a couple of the much-talked-about condoms in his pocket, he chose a flesh-colored, anatomically designed dildo with a long, thick shaft, a flared head, and veined texture. It had a hefty set of balls attached, too.

  He returned to his lover and showed her the lifelike cock. She gazed at it, and his pulse pounded in anticipation.

  “Do y
ou like it?” he asked.

  Her voice went breathy. “Yes.”

  He brought it up to her face and skimmed it against her cheek. “You’re a bad girl, Kendra.” A beautiful girl. His sexual ideal.

  “I can’t help it,” she responded.

  Neither could he. He brushed the dildo across her lips. “I’m going to make you suck it.” He paused for effect. “But not yet.”

  He moved it down her chin, along her neck, and over her breasts, where he took his time, rolling the head around her nipples.

  “Feels good,” she said.

  She looked longingly at him, and he suspected that she was thinking about his cock. Nothing could have excited him more.

  He slid the dildo to her stomach and poked her navel. Finally he rubbed it between her legs without putting it inside.

  When he penetrated her for the first time, it wasn’t going to be with a rubber likeness. He wanted to reserve that glorious rite of passage for himself.

  But that didn’t mean her clit was off limits. James went ahead and used the phallus on her most sensitive spot, utilizing the tip to stimulate her.

  Kendra made a sensual sound, and he kissed her. Their mouths came together quickly, creating a flurry of tongue-thrusting sensations.

  He kept the dildo pressed against her, rubbing until her hips flexed and she rattled the chains on the manacles. On the edge of an orgasm, she started to close her eyes, but he wanted her focused on him.

  “Look at me.”

  Her eyes flew open, and while she gazed directly at him, he watched her come.

  James reacted like the hungry male he was. Not only was he painfully erect, he was leaking pre-cum.

  After she had recovered from her climax, he removed a vanilla-flavored condom from his pocket, opened the packet, and sheathed the dildo. Giving himself a thrill, he brought it to her lips.

  She stuck out her tongue and licked it. “It tastes like pudding.”

  Ah, yes, he thought, like her favorite dessert. “Do you want more?”

  She nodded, and he pushed it gently into her mouth and moved it back and forth, creating a blow job rhythm. While she sucked, he imagined that she was doing it to him.

  By now, he was leaking like crazy.

  She had a slow, sultry technique, and he watched and watched, mesmerized by her.

  When he couldn’t take it anymore, he got rid of the dildo and dug around in his pocket for the other condom, preparing to use it on himself. Kendra looked so damn sweet standing there with her arms above her head, waiting to be fucked.

  He ditched his shirt and shoved down his jeans, and once he was properly protected, he moved in for the kill, clutching her ass and pulling her against him.

  The air in her lungs whooshed out, and he maneuvered her hips so he could thrust into her.

  Just like that, he was inside. She was tight and wet and moaning his name. She couldn’t move her arms, but she was doing her damnedest to sling one of her legs around him.

  Not that he was complaining. He grabbed the leg she was trying to hoist and helped her get into the position she craved. It worked mighty fine for him, too, enhancing the frenzied friction.

  James loved the mindless pace. He loved listening to the jangle of chains as he pumped into her. Steeped in aggression, he kissed her hard and fast.

  He’d never been addicted to anything before, but he feared this would be his downfall, his drug of choice.

  More of the dungeon. More of her.

  Embroiled in lust, he sucked on the side of her neck, leaving marks on her skin. She reacted by bowing her body and inviting him to thrust deeper, to use her for his pleasure.

  Experimentation. Bondage and domination.

  Sex in the darkest of ways.

  Chapter 6

  Now that it was over, Kendra felt as if she’d been in a train wreck. Her entire body ached. Yet nothing could have aroused her more.

  James took care of the condom, then removed her manacles. She went straight into his arms. All she wanted was to stay close to him.

  He nuzzled her hair. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m not spacey like last time.” Did that mean she was getting used to being a sub? That it was part of her nature?

  He ran a hand up and down her naked spine. “Are you hungry? We could go to my apartment and fix something.”

  Food, she thought. Sustenance. It was the middle of the afternoon, and neither of them had eaten. “That’s probably a good idea.”

  They nuzzled a moment longer, then got dressed, closed up the attic, and made their way to his apartment.

  In keeping with the rest of the house, he’d filled it with Victorian antiques. The living room furniture consisted of a large sofa with a button-tuft back, matching side chairs, and an ornately carved table. Converted oil lamps and area rugs were scattered throughout. So was a bit of clutter. As nice as his place was, he was still a bachelor who left things sitting around.

  He gave her a tour, and they lingered in his bedroom.

  He said, “Bedsteads from this era weren’t very big, so I had it extended so it would fit a king.”

  She imagined being tied to the iron posts. But she envisioned sleeping in his arms, too. “It looks comfortable.”

  “It’s a feather mattress. If you want to stay with me for the rest of your vacation, you can.”

  Oh, wow. Was he a mind reader? Or just feeling the same way she did? “I’d like that very much.”

  “Once Claire finds out that you temporarily moved in, she’ll probably take some of the credit. She’s been encouraging me to be with you.”

  “If I tell Cathy and Ken about us, they’ll probably think it’s cool, too.” She laughed a little. “I guess I better tell them before they realize I’m not in my room anymore.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, I suppose so. But they’ll be leaving soon.”

  She nodded. Most of the wedding party would be gone by the end of the week, including the bride and groom.

  “I’m glad you’ll be here a little longer,” he said.

  “So am I.” She wondered what it would be like to stay with him forever. He was everything a girl could wish for.

  Wish? Like at the fountain?

  Last night she’d considered how easy it would be to fall in love with him, and today she was daydreaming about being his life partner. Damn that voodoo.

  “Are po’boys okay?” he asked. “I’ve gotten pretty good at making them.”

  It took her a moment to realize he was referring to their food. Obviously her mind was somewhere else. Love and forever. She had to quit thinking about it.

  She focused on his question. She knew that po’boys were New Orleans-style submarine sandwiches. “Sure.”

  “How about sausage? Fully dressed?”

  Once again, she agreed. Fully dressed, she assumed, meant lettuce and tomato and whatever else went on the sandwiches.

  They headed to the kitchen and got started. While the sausage cooked in a heavy skillet, he showed her how to make Creole mustard.

  “You’re quite the New Orleans boy,” she said.

  “I like it here.”

  “You certainly look the part.” She studied his features. “What combination of Creole are you?”

  “A fair amount of French, a touch of Spanish, and whole lot of Native American. I’ve got Choctaw blood on my mother’s side, too.”

  Which, she surmised, accounted for his straight black hair and bold features.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “Me?” She shrugged. “I’m white bread.”

  “White bread means plain, Kendra.” He roamed his dark gaze over her. “And there’s nothing plain about you.”

  Her skin went warm. He had such a sexy way of making her feel beautiful. “I’m English, French, and Scandinavian.”

  “So there you go.” He was still gazing at her. “We’ve got French roots in common.”

  “I don’t know the language.”

  “I’m not fl
uent, either. I only know enough to get by. Besides, French isn’t spoken much here anymore, except among the Cajuns, and they have their own dialect.”

  “Isn’t Creole a French dialect, too?”

  “It’s not a dialect. It’s a language, and in Louisiana it was derived from French with traces of Spanish, Native, and African influences.”

  “Like the people?”

  He nodded. “Bonswa means good evening or good night in Creole. So this is the Good Night Inn.”

  “That works.” She imagined having plenty of good nights here.

  They finished making the po’boys, then sat across from each other at the kitchen table and dived in. It was just about the messiest sandwich Kendra had ever eaten. But it was wonderfully spicy, too.

  “So what do you do?” he asked.

  She blotted her mouth. “Do?”

  “Your job.”

  “I work for a charity that helps the homeless.”

  “Really? That’s great. New Orleans could sure use a girl like you. Parts of this city are still suffering.”

  “Were you here during the storm?”

  He shook his head. “I inherited the house after it happened. But I’m happy to be involved in the regrowth.”

  “The organization I work for has an office here. I could probably get transferred if I set my mind to it.”

  “Would you want to live in the Big Easy?”

  Good question. Would she?

  Yes, she thought, if it meant making some sort of life with him. Once again, she cursed the fountain and its voodoo. Honestly, how mixed up could she be?

  Unsure of how to respond, she skirted the issue. “So what’s your favorite thing to do here?”

  “Mostly I work. But I like going to blues clubs.”

  “I’ve been to some bigger blues venues in L.A., but I’ve never been to one of those smoky little retro clubs.”

  “I know of a place like that, and I’d be glad to take you.” He looked directly across the table at her. “Maybe tonight?”

  He was asking her on a date? Kendra’s heart went pitter-pat. Foolish and girlish. “I’d love to go with you.”

  Tonight or any other night, she thought, unable to fight the spell she was under.