“A community is essential I think. It becomes rather like family. You look out for one another. It’s like that at Club Decadence, but when you add the Rossi bunch on top of that, well, someone is always in your corner—which isn’t always a good thing, honey. These doms stick together and tell each other everything.”
“But Arturo doesn’t work for Rossi, does he?”
Her eyes got wide. “Uh, well, I guess you’re right. He’s in the business though, so you know.”
She frowned. “No, I don’t know. What do you mean the busine—”
“Hey, sunshine! My sweet tooth is killing me! Are you coming or are you two subs gonna hide all night in the kitchen gabbing?”
“Coming,” she called, leading Mari out on the deck.
Mari swore she saw relief on Lexie’s pretty face. There was something she knew, but wasn’t telling her.
Once outside, Arturo took the bowl and cream from her, then rubbed the cold spot the can left on her arm. The next second, he settled back in his chair and pulled her into his lap, curling his arms around her hips.
“Time for a little payback. This time you feed me dessert, petite.”
She accepted the heaping dish from Lexie and snuggled against his chest, alternating bites on the same spoon between them. Her conversation with Lexie, lingered in her thoughts, until Arturo’s wandering hands and sweet tasting lips, pushed it to the back of her mind.
* * *
It was approaching midnight when they entered the third floor guestroom that offered a sweeping view of the gulf during the day and a moonlit seascape at night. Arturo closed the door behind them and gathered her close as she stifled a sleepy yawn.
“Tired?”
“Sun and sea air always do it to me, I’m not sure why.”
His phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a prearranged text from Jonas, his cue to do what he needed to do. He excused himself. “Why don’t you get ready for bed while I return this call? I’ll try to make it brief.”
She nodded with a drowsy smile, gathered the things she needed from her suitcase, and walked into the en suite bathroom. While she was occupied, he stepped out on the balcony as if to make his call. He felt like a shit for deceiving her. A throat clearing made him look up, Jonas was standing on the balcony at the other end of the house. He didn’t say anything, simply looked at him, giving his silent support. Arturo repeated in his head; priority one, clearing her name.
After lifting his chin in acknowledgement, he turned back inside. Mari was just climbing into bed.
“I hate to do this to you, chérie, but I must leave for a while to take care of something urgent.”
“Business?” she asked, blinking up at him like a drowsy kitten.
“Yes, it shouldn’t take too long.”
“Exactly what do you do, Arturo? You never said.”
“Security and investigations, mostly.” Which was true, but evasive.
“Like Jonas does for Rossi?”
“Very similar.” He didn’t elaborate further, instead leaning down for a kiss, deliberately taking it deep until the haziness that showed he’d muddled her senses, clouded her eyes. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be back as fast as I can, minou. Don’t wait up.”
* * *
As searches went, it was very low key. With no danger of being found out, he also had it easy because he had a key to the house, Mari having given him one earlier that week. And he didn’t have to search for the safe, going directly to where he knew it was located in the master suite.
Once inside, he took in the soft feminine space, with a white and teal patterned comforter on what he knew was a soft bed. And the bounty of pillows that he teased her about the two nights he spent with her here.
“They’re pretty!” she’d protested when he’d said two, four at the most would be sufficient.
“Pretty time consuming taking them off every night, only to have to pile them back on the next morning.”
“You’re such a man.”
“You’ve noticed,” he quipped.
She glared at him. “They’re functional too.”
He’d cocked his head and grinned at her across the wide king size bed. “How so?”
“Well…” she drawled, biting her lower lip. He waited the count of three seconds while she tried to come up with something before making his way around to her side of the bed.
“Come up with anything yet?” he asked, moving in close and gazing down at her.
“Uh, they’re pretty,” she repeated, scowling at him when he chuckled. “Which is good enough for me.”
He reached over and picked up two rectangular ones, the first was covered from seam to seam in puffed out ruffles, the other was plush with a satiny covering. He piled them on the edge of the bed in front of her. “I’ve discovered a function. Bend over.”
She gaped up at him. “Why?”
“You’ve got a bad habit of glaring, scowling, and arguing with me. I thought I could kill two birds with one stone. Define a function for your copious amount of pillows, and paddle your naughty bottom until it’s red and hot, at the same time.”
On an indrawn breath, her mouth opened, and her tongue came out to lick lips that had gone suddenly dry. Her lovely eyes held the glimmer of excitement that he saw more and more often of late.
“Uh, I don’t have a paddle, sir.”
“No? If anyone ever needed one it is you, petite. But I shall improvise. Bend over the pillows and wait for me, while I see what I can find.”
Once she was settled atop the pillows, the hem of her sheer nightie pulled up to her waist, leaving her lovely bottom bare and on display, he began his search. “I suppose I could use my hand, but for you and me, that’s child’s play. On the other hand, you have been arguing like a belligerent teen.”
“I haven’t!”
“See?”
“Oooo,” she huffed in frustration.
“Tsk tsk, now, you’re only making it worse.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her prop up on her elbows and watch as he explored her room. At her dresser, he stopped and picked up her hairbrush, it was round without a back. He frowned at her in disappointment as he held it up.
“Really, Mari?”
She peered back at him, innocently.
When he turned back, he thought he heard a snicker. Grinning, he continued his perusal. He found a long, flat wooden stick with a curve on the end. This time when he turned, he raised a brow in question.
“Not my back scratcher, please. If you break it on my naughty butt, how will I scratch an itch?”
He couldn’t hold back a laugh as he set it back down and moved on. “Eyes front, soumise, your wit is distracting me from my purpose.”
“Yes, sir.”
This time he knew he heard a giggle. Good. She was coming out of her shell. After another few moments, he came back armed with his improvised spanking tools, which he set on the floor out of sight. Let them be a surprise.
Picking up the first one, he stood at her hip, his hand smoothing the creamy perfection of her behind that he intended to turn glowing red.
“Part your legs more and give me a nice high target.”
Once she’d moved into position, he brought his hand down in a fast moving arc. A resounding thwap echoed in the room followed swiftly by a feminine yelp of surprise. Her head twisted around right as his hand pulled back for stroke number two.
“My cashmere slippers, dear heavens. I’ve never—”
“I’ll go back for the back scratcher if you don’t face front, Mari.”
She grunted, but turned back around. “Yes, sir.”
His purpose was twofold; he didn’t want her to see what was coming next and he was having a hard time containing a huge grin, she was that cute.
He used the slipper quickly and firmly, slapping each cheek, left then right, up then down, until every inch had received a stinging kiss from the rubber soled little scuff. After a good two dozen, he stopped,
his hand admiring the rosy glow and the heat as he caressed each cheek slowly.
“You pinken up so nicely. It would be a rare man who could resist swatting these cheeks until they blushed for him.”
“Thank you, sir,” was her contented reply.
“Did you enjoy that?”
“Yes,” she sighed breathily.
“Hmm, perhaps too much. Let’s step it up a notch.” He bent and retrieved the tilt wand from the mini-blinds.
“Arturo. Having problems?”
He blinked; the male voice intruding into their scene startled him. Taking in the dimness of her empty bedroom, he realized he’d been standing there for who knows how long, lost in a memory. A dick hardening memory, he corrected as he shifted in his uncomfortably tight pants and replied. “No. I’m good.” He added nothing else. What could he say? That he was so head over heels in love with his submissive who was also implicated in an arms theft and the death of several agents that he’d been having a wet dream in her bedroom when he should be cracking a safe?
With his tool bag in hand, he strode across the room to the family portrait, wanting to punch the image of fucking Derek Hoffman’s smiling face right square in the nose. He didn’t. Instead, he lifted it from the wall and exposed the reason he was there in the first place.
When he saw the model name on the safe, he almost regretted that this would be so easy. A challenge might have taken his mind off of Mari and her involvement in her dead husband’s messed up shit. From his bag, he removed a screwdriver and popped off the display from the electronic lock. He then attached the wires to his handheld microcontroller and in less than a minute, it had read the 32-bit key from its memory and the locking mechanism released with a click.
“A bloody millionaire and he couldn’t dish out the $500 extra bucks for a decent lock,” he grumbled as he pulled the door open by the handle. “I’m in,” he said into his headset.
“Give me the make and model and I’ll search for any special features.”
“No need. I’m familiar. It’s almost as old as I am. The cheap bastard must have bought it at a flea market.”
He took out a few stacks of cash, some stock certificates, and several black velvet jewelry boxes. Once it was empty, he ran his fingers along the seam between the bottom and the back wall, as expected, he was able to slide his nail under the felt lined bottom and peeled it back. Underneath, he found a small brown envelope.
“Bingo!” he said, using the American vernacular. Sliding his thumb under the seal, he opened it and poured the contents into his palm—a jump drive and a key.
He returned the contents and closed the safe before retracing his steps. As he rounded the foot of her bed, his boot brushed against something. Looking down, he spied her cashmere slippers sticking out from under the bed. He stared at them a moment, remembering how she’d called his name as he surged into her from behind after her spanking. If she couldn’t forgive his deceit, it was a memory that might have to sustain him for a lifetime. Half in love with her already, the thought was like a tight fist squeezing his heart. Not caring who saw him and what they might think, he bent, scooped them up, and dropped them in his bag.
Almost two hours later, he lifted the covers and slid into bed behind her. In her sleep, she rolled over, moving closer, seeking him out as she pressed her warm, soft curves into his hard body. He draped an arm around her waist, his hand curling around one perfect ass cheek, as he pulled her in deeper, feeling every gentle bend and soft arch of her body, from the roundness of her breasts to the supple cushion of her thighs. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled slowly as he closed his eyes, settling into her, not giving up hope that when the dust from this cluster fuck cleared he would still be welcomed in her bed, into her arms, and her life.
* * *
The rest of the weekend passed much too quickly. Jonas and Lexie were gracious hosts, showing them a good time, while giving them plenty of privacy as well. As newlyweds, they were also happy for time to themselves.
Mari and Arturo walked hand in hand for miles in the surf, swam in the warm water, and as promised, he slicked liberal amounts of sunscreen all over her body, sneaking some into parts that would never see the light of day. Mari didn’t care in the least considering they were on a private beach. As such, they also made love under the midnight sky on the sand near the waves, and more times than she could count, in the big bed on the third floor with the French doors thrown open to the sound of the surf rolling onto the shore in the distance.
On Saturday night, after a few glasses of wine, Jonas convinced Mari to give shibari a try.
“With my clothes on?” she’d asked shyly.
“No,” Arturo had replied with a grin. “If we do this, we do it right. Strip.”
She glanced hesitantly at Jonas and then Lexie. Her friend stood up and started taking off her own clothes. “How about if we do it together, like we do in class?” she suggested. “I don’t notice at all anymore. Jonas has strung me up so many times in front of audiences, I barely know they’re there.”
“That’s because you fly in the ropes, dorei.”
She grinned up at her husband and whispered, “I fly only in your ropes, sensei.”
He kissed her, his mouth swooping down to claim hers as he crushed her body to his. The love they shared was palpable. When he lifted his head, he had to help her with her buttons her fingers were trembling so. Once she was stripped bare, they looked over at their guests expectantly, Jonas’ expression purely professional, while Lexie’s was still muddled from her husband’s kiss.
“Ready, ma petite? Safewords are as good here as they are at the club. I think you’ll enjoy this.”
“Mari,” Lexie called softly, “it’s funny, but it’s freeing being bound. Jonas’ ropes are like an extension of him. When he binds me, I can let go, let him take the reins and guide me. All I have to do is relax, enjoy, and feel his love surround me, if that makes sense.”
“It does, kind of,” she replied with a tentative smile.
“Best of all,” Lexie added with a wink, “it’s flippin’ hot!”
Jonas chuckled, squeezing her with genuine affection as he kissed her temple. His eyes came back to Mari, his bright blue eyes twinkling with excitement, the joy he found in sharing his craft with others obvious. That, more than anything else, convinced her.
“What do you say?” their teacher for the night prompted.
“Yes.” She nodded, turning to Arturo. “I’d like to try.”
In moments, with his help, she was as naked as Lexie. From then on, Mari had to only remain still beneath Arturo’s hands as he fashioned a bra-like harness out of hemp rope first. Added to that was a wrist tie binding her hands in the middle of her back. And finally, a crotch rope, which Jonas called “the cherry”.
“One knot or three?” he asked Arturo.
“Three, of course,” her dom had replied without a second’s hesitation. Jonas then had expertly showed him how to measure and knot the rope at specific locations, so that when placed properly, it abraded her clit, her center and rode between the cheeks of her bottom, stimulating her back hole with every breath she took.
“So beautiful,” Arturo had murmured as he ran his hands over her bound body, lingering on her breasts that swelled full and high while lightly compressed in the rope bra, the slight constriction causing her nipples to remain taut. Like a moth to a flame, his fingers keyed in on the hard peaks and pinched them until she was moaning and breathing fast. He’d moved on at that point, brushing the backs of his fingers down her trembling belly to her hips where he hooked two fingers beneath the rope there and pulled with a steady pressure. The knots slid over and pressed into her already sensitized flesh and her knees went weak.
He caught her against him. To Jonas, who was busy tying Lexie’s legs, he said, “I need to find a flat surface and my bag.”
“I was going to get out the tripod and show her a suspension.”
Arturo chuckled as Mari moaned, needing
relief, not more sensual shibari demonstrations.
“I don’t think she’s gonna make it, mon ami.”
Jonas looked at her, then grinned as he nodded to Lexie who wore the same dreamy-eyed expression. “Believe me, I understand. She’s been my dorei for over a year and each time is like the first time, explosive.” He slid his hand over her long light brown hair as Lexie whimpered. “And heaven help me if that ever changes.”
“We’ll see you in the morning,” Arturo said as he lifted Mari in his arms.
“Take these,” Jonas insisted as he held out a pair of rounded end scissors. “Never use rope without a pair.”
“Yes, sensei,” he said with a grin as he accepted them.
“Good night,” their host had called even as he turned his attention back to his own lovely sub.
Upstairs in their room, he set her down on the end of the bed and reached for his bag. He withdrew a suede flogger, something she was surprised that a sadist owned, it being soft and sensual not really for pain. Then she found out why.
“I can think of nothing besides my lash on your breasts.”
“Yes,” she moaned.
“We’ll go slowly since you’re already swollen and sensitive.”
A light stroke brushed over one breast, feeling like a thousand prickles in her skin.
“Oh god!” she cried out.
“I thought the ropes would make it more intense.” He lashed her again, on the other side. Then he fell into a pattern: right, left, then a sharper snap across her belly.
“Sir, please,” she begged, not sure if she was asking for more or to stop. Soon he was in a rhythm, whoosh, whoosh, splat, and the pattern repeated, then again and again. Her body was alive with sensation and she was wired, loving the pleasure and the pain, but needing to come. “Arturo, please, I need to come now. I can’t bear it,” she sobbed.
He stopped and she groaned in frustration.
French Kiss (Decadence Nights Book 2) Page 16