“She’s as sweet as can be,” Lexie said in her defense. “She’s just had a hard life and sometimes things bring back bitter memories.”
“Yeah,” Megan agreed. “That was my bad.”
“Definitely,” Angie said with a nod. “For a little thing, I’m surprised your big giant foot doesn’t get stuck in your mouth more often.”
As the others laughed, Meg stuck her tongue out at her younger cousin, though she didn’t disagree with the playful teasing, content to slurp up more of her frozen drink than argue the truth.
The band started up at that point, going into an old Blondie tune. Not the band’s usual genre, the girls turned to stare. Mari did too, although she had no idea what Elena was up to until she nodded to the door while she sang the chorus, “French Kissin’ in the USA, French Kissin’ in the USA…”
“Uh-oh,” Megan said, immediately clueing in.
“What’s going on?” a petite redhead asked as she appeared at the table.
“Trouble, en Français,” Megan replied, tilting her head toward Mari.
“Really.” The newcomer who couldn’t have been more than 5’2”, climbed on a chair to see over the crowd. She grimaced, then glanced Mari’s way. “You’re Marilee, aren’t you?” She looked back toward the door. “Yeah, I’ve heard the rumors about you and Master Arturo. I haven’t met him yet, but I’m guessing he’s tall, dark and handsome.”
“That could be anyone, Regan,” Lexie scoffed.
“Okay, does he have a killer close cropped beard with gorgeous wavy brown hair to his shoulders?”
Mari groaned.
“That’s him,” Megan stated needlessly.
“Either run or dig in then, babe,” Regan warned, “because he’s fit to be tied and throwing bodies out of his way to get to you.”
“Go dance,” Angie urged.
“What! Why?”
“It’s a long story, but I danced with Arturo to make T jealous. Worked like a charm.”
“Sorry, Angela,” a low growling French accented voice interjected. “I know that play and I’ll have none of it. Besides yours was an entirely different scenario. In your case the dom was being obstinate.” His angry eyes turned Mari’s way. “You, ma soumise, will come with me.”
“I don’t think so,” she shot back, “and I’m not your submissive. And if we’re talking about obstinate, let’s talk about you. How many times do I need to tell you we are through? I thought you were fluent in English, but that must not be the case because you are simply not getting it.” The other girls reacted, if it hadn’t been so loud in the bar, she swore she would have heard their collective gasp.
His hand came up in a quick jerking swipe over his head, clearly fed up. The words that followed that telling gesture came out clipped and low. “I’ve been patient, but that has come to an end. Come here.”
Boldly, or foolishly, she didn’t know which, she stood and with her hands on her hips said, “No. I think I’ll go dance.” She turned to scan the crowded lounge behind her. “A nice American dom asked me earlier and I declined. I think I’ve changed my mind.” Her eyes connected with the boyishly handsome, all-American type who stood at the bar watching the drama unfold. His gaze switched to Arturo briefly. As he shifted his attention back to her, his lips turned up in amusement and gave her a welcoming grin.
“Seth Benson,” Arturo sputtered. “I think not.” He moved closer, towering over her and blocking out anyone else with his broad chest.
She felt a tug on her dress hem and a whispered, “Abort, Mari, abort!”
“Wise advice from your friend. I would heed it if I were you.”
“I, uh—”
He spoke over her. “How many has she had, Angela?”
“Two, I think, Master Arturo.”
“Hmm, within limits. And I dare say a touch of my lash will sober you up quickly.” His fingers curled around her wrist an instant before he started walking. In the face of his anger, guests and members cleared a path, Mari moving as fast as she could to keep up.
“Arturo, please, I can’t keep up in these shoes.”
He stopped, turned on a dime and the next instant she was airborne, landing ass up, head down over his shoulder with a solid thud that took her breath away. She then witnessed how fast he could move, his long strides gobbling the vast expanse of the large room, arriving at the dungeon doors on the opposite end in a matter of seconds. Her shoes were slipped off easily and tossed to the waiting attendant.
“I have your spare toy bag stored back here, sir,” the twenty-something sub in cotton candy pink said shyly, casting Mari a half-envious and half-sympathetic look.
“I’ll take it, Celeste. Merci.”
Once inside, the sounds of erotic pain and sexual gratification indeed sobered her up. “I’m sorry,” she began.
His hand came down sharply twice, eliciting a startled yelp.
“The truce ends tonight, one sided as it was. You’ve been asking for this and after the stunt you pulled tonight, you’ll be getting it, in spades.” He paused a moment, his large hand spread possessively across her behind. “Ah, a cross is open. Perfect for what I have in mind for you.”
She shivered both in dread and anticipation as arousal immediately dampened her panties. Just so, his hand slipped down and his fingers curved between her thighs as he moved through the crowded playroom to his destination. As she bounced atop his shoulder, his hand came in contact with the crotch of her panties. “You’re wet already.” He grunted in approval. “I should have known detente was not what my masochist needed. To be clear, I won’t make the same mistake again.”
Inside the ropes, he let her slide down his long, hard muscled front, the arm at her back keeping her plastered to him, breasts grazing his chest, soft mound rubbing across the distended front of his trousers. As her feet touched the ground, his hand tangled in her hair and he pressed his erection into her soft belly. “Strip everything. I don’t plan to leave an inch of your luscious body untouched, or unpunished.”
He stepped back and with his arms folded over his chest, he watched, the first sign of a smile, wicked as it was, curving his lips.
Chapter Twenty
Slowly she revealed her flawless white skin as she peeled the clingy, black dress down her curves, flushing delightfully under his regard. He enjoyed the way the rosy blush of her cheeks spread down her throat and across the tops of her tempting round breasts. Close to forty and after two children, they were still firm, despite their ample size. Her belly was flat, her hips shapely and her divine ass, high and tight with enough flesh to jiggle delightfully when he swatted it.
He did so now as she turned and set her dress on the nearby shelf.
“Step up to the cross, facing it,” he ordered when her eyes came to his after the blow, which was really very gentle by his standards. She was in for a surprise, however, since he planned to push her past the arbitrary and quite ridiculous restriction she had set on pain. It was what she needed and short of a safeword, what he needed to give her. They would clear the air between them once and for all, in that he was determined.
He cuffed her wrists, latching the rings to the eyebolts in the far end of each cross beam above her head. With arms spread wide and secured in position, he drew the flat of his hands down her arms, across her shoulders, brushing her hair forward, over her shoulders and baring her back. His lips were drawn to the soft warmth of her neck and he spread kisses from there down her spine, caressing her with wide sweeps of his hands on either side as he went. At her hips, his fingers curved around to her sides as his mouth opened over one cheek and drew in a mouthful of her pliant flesh. She cried out as he sucked, knowing he was leaving a mark, as intended. When he released her, he admired the pink circle, stroking his tongue across it, soothing the minor ache before bending to restrain her ankles.
Once she was bound to the four cross points, he stood and moved in close behind her. His hands slipped in front, insinuating himself between the padded X and her body. He
cupped her breasts, not roughly, but lustily, hefting and massaging their fullness, savoring the feel of her that he’d missed greatly in the past few days.
“Too long, ma petite. I need to caress your body as much as you crave me to do so, n’est-ce pas?” His fingers located her hard nipples, pinching and rolling them aggressively as she liked.
“Yes, sir,” she groaned. “I’ve missed you too.”
“You admit it. Mon dieu, I thought you’d put up more of a fight. Perhaps it’s the alcohol speaking.”
“No, Arturo… sir, the girls convinced me.”
“Ah, the owners’ subs. Jonas told me to bring you here sooner, that all of them have a very poignant story to tell.”
“Yes, they have been through so much, some as much as I have, a few even more so. I haven’t been nearly as strong as them.”
“Each has seen sorrow, true, yet everyone deals with loss in their own way. Don’t fault yourself for how you dealt with your grief.”
“But—”
“Shh, no more arguing.” One hand slid down her belly and slipped between her thighs. He found her wet, gloriously and generously so. His fingers sought her clit, gliding over and around it until she trembled beneath his hand, then because he couldn’t resist, he dipped inside her tight sheath.
“So,” he drawled, two fingers taking up a slow in and out rhythm, “has this introspection and your chat with the Decadence subs helped you decide to forgive me for my role in this mess?”
“Yes, so long as you don’t deceive me again, Arturo. Can we agree—”
“Mari,” he broke in fervently. “I am usually quite forthright. It was never my intention to mislead you when I scened with you that long ago night, or in the weeks that followed. If I’d known who you were when we met, I’d have never become intimate, or attached. Do you believe me?”
Her head fell back and she rolled it so she could look at him, her face flushed, eyes bright, beautiful as always, but even more so when aroused. “Yes. I believe you. But I’m vulnerable, Arturo, betrayed at every turn by important people in my life. I’m entrusting you with my heart, please, take care of it.”
“I will, petite, can you entrust me with the rest of you, your body, and your submission?”
“Yes, sir.” She smiled, eyes half lidded with passion. “I’ve already experienced how well you take care of both and I definitely want more.”
“Enough to move past these limits you’ve set on your true nature?”
“Yes, please, I want you to make me fly. It’s been so long.”
“I was hoping you would feel that way, because you need it, and I need to give it to you. Before I do, let me thank you for the gift of your forgiveness, as well as your heart, your body, your pain, ma bien-aimée soumise.”
“That sounds beautiful, sir. What does it mean?”
“My beloved submissive.”
She sighed wistfully as she nuzzled her face against his shoulder.
“We’ll begin anew, petite, after we address the little tests you’ve been putting me through these past few days.”
“You knew,” she said on a gasp. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“You needed time. I decided to give it to you, although I didn’t know you’d become quite so nasty.”
“I did, I’m sorry. That remark about not being fluent in English, for example, was quite snarky.”
“I’ll have to remember your tongue gets quite sharp when you are angry, hmm?” He patted her behind before he bent and withdrew the martinet from his bag, the familiar weight of the handle fitting comfortably in his hand. As he turned to his sub, made so by her own admission, he considered how she waited anxiously for what he had in store.
Her body was trembling slightly and her back was arched, displaying the curves of her ass so they appeared to be begging for his hand, his lash, and all of his attention. Two days was like an eternity. He wanted to bypass the flogging and fuck her first, but that would be slapdashed and hurried, not to mention giving her the very incorrect impression of the kind of dominant he was. As he approached, a not so subtle throat clearing diverted him from his goal.
Cap stood at the ropes.
He gave Mari an assessing glance, saw she was in no distress, and murmured in her ear, “Hang tight a minute, ma petite,” as if she had any other option, before he walked over to see why Tony needed him.
“I’d rather take the whipping you were about to dish out myself than interrupt this, Arturo, but Jonas called. They intercepted a call and something major is going down at midnight.”
“Tonight?” He glanced back at Mari who was turning her head from side to side, searching to see what had interrupted them.
“Believe me, it kills to pull you away. If you’d rather sit it out…”
“No,” he bit out, his voice sharp with exasperation. “It’s my mission, my responsibility, but damn, I can’t catch a break.”
Cap smiled tightly in sympathy. “Been there, man.”
“Give me ten minutes.”
“Take twenty. We’ll debrief in the conference room while we wait for the plane to be readied and the pilot to drive in. Flight time to Houston is fifty minutes, which puts our ETA at 10:30 leaving plenty of time to do what we have to do. I just wish I could give you more. It appears you were on the verge of a breakthrough.”
“That’s been my story with Mari from the beginning, on the verge. But it can’t be helped.”
Cap nodded and walked away, as Arturo turned to what would soon be a very frustrated submissive. Moving in behind her, he leaned into her back and dipped his face into her neck. “I’m sorry to have to do this, minou, but I’ve been called away.”
“What?” She tensed as his hands slid up her arms and began releasing the snap hooks on her cuffs. “Now?”
“Something is happening tonight with the mission.”
“You mean you’re leaving me? Like this?”
Efficiently he released her ankles next. “I’d never leave you this way, unless I had no other choice. You understand.”
She nodded jerkily, conspicuously silent as she reached for her clothes. He knew what she was feeling, his cock as proportionately hard as she was wet. “This isn’t comfortable for me either, you know.”
Stepping into her dress, she shimmied into the clingy fabric, jiggling in all the right places as she pulled it over her hips making his already hard cock as rigid as iron. Her breasts swaying provocatively as she slipped her arms though the thin straps then they disappeared through the plunging V-neck. He frowned as she turned, the back consisting of only a skimpy swath of glimmering fabric that barely covered her ass and a series of crisscrossing straps over her naked back. Too angry to appreciate it when he came in, the dress was revealing and enhancing, almost as sexy if she’d been naked. And he was sending her back out to the bar wearing it. Bloody hell!
“Can you get my zipper, please?” she asked coolly.
He did, swallowing hard. When it was done up, it only reached an inch above the small of her back.
“We’ll pick up where we left off when I get back.”
“It’s fine,” she replied, although that was a blatant lie. The set of her mouth in a grim line and the stiffness of her spine told him otherwise. “I’ll just go home.”
“No. I don’t want you in Houston tonight.” Her eyes came to his, still glistening with unmet desire. “I’ll return to you as soon as I can, petite. If that’s not tonight, you’ll stay with Lexie. I’ll make the arrangements.”
“My mind understands why you have to go, my body, not so much. And frankly sir, the timing of this really sucks.” She smoothed the slinky material over her hips and sucked in a deep breath. After she blew it out, she declared. “I need a drink.”
As Mari walked, or rather stomped, ahead of him, his gaze dipped to her twitching ass in the extremely short dress. The sight didn’t help the ache in his dick one iota. Neither did the scent of her perfume as he reached around her to pull open the heavy gothic dungeon
door. His forearm brushed across the hard tip of one breast as he did so, which prompted a groan from both of them.
“Maybe I’ll have a whole freakin’ pitcher,” she grumbled. He followed her through the door, pausing to retrieve her shoes, while she went ahead, moving through the bar, which gave her a good lead on him. At the edge of the near empty dance floor, the band evidently on a break, a few couples danced to piped-in club music. A familiar R&B tune played as they twined around each other, hips grinding to the beat, similar to how they had danced once before. Mari paused and watched them longingly, then gazed back at him with a hint of a pout before she continued on.
A combination of sexual frustration, tension over the unresolved case that was taking him away from her, and that Seth Benson strolled by at that precise moment and his eyes shifted downward, zoning in on her ass in that cock hardening fuck-me dress—talk about bad timing—made him see red, then green. Jealousy swiftly rose like a tidal wave within him.
He growled as he stalked after her. Catching her at the table, his fingers curled around her arm and spun her into him, lifting her up onto her toes, as he bent so he was nose to nose with her.
“Ecoutez, Mari, et ecoutez bein. Tu es à moi. If you even think, même au danser avec putain Seth Benson, ou quelqu’un d’autre ce soir, il y aura l’enfer à payer. Is that clear?”
In his barely cogent state, he didn’t wait for her answer, ignoring the negative shake of her head and the baffled expression on her face as he claimed her open mouth in a thoroughly possessive kiss. Intent on marking her distinctly as his own for the likes of Benson and any other dom considering her fair game, both hands slid to her ass and dipped beneath the hem of her dress as he lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his hips, so that her pussy pressed against the large bulge in his trousers. He pressed into her firmly, until an ardent cry welled up from her throat. When he lifted his head, she was breathless and dazed.
“Who do you belong to, Mari?”
She blinked at his demand, but replied without hesitation. “You, Arturo, only to you.”
French Kiss (Decadence Nights Book 2) Page 21