Bonne Chance: Bourbon Street, Book 2

by Cat Montmorency

  “Myself? How—”

  “Ma chère dame, how did your father react when you told him what you are?”

  Chance cocked her head at him. “He asked if I was happy. And then said that was all he cared about. Not what I do, but if what I do makes me happy.”

  He nodded. “Indeed. And were you surprised?”

  “Of course I was!”

  Adrian raised an eyebrow. “How many times have you told yourself how much your family would hate and revile you if they found out about the lifestyle? It is impossible to know exactly how another person will react to anything. We can guess, and often be right, but every time you swore you knew how they would respond, that was a lie. Every time you convinced yourself it was better they didn’t know, that was a lie. Every time you told yourself it was for their own good, or to protect them, you lied. To yourself, to them.”

  “All right, fine, I get it.” She huffed and glared at him. “I don’t like that you did it. But I get it.”

  Adrian reached out and tapped her chin lightly. “I know. But I also know what’s best, and as le premier Maître, it’s my job to look out for you. Now don’t make a bahbin. When are you seeing our newest sub? You’ll need to talk to him about the membership tattoo, he’ll need time to clear it with his superiors.”

  Chance sucked in a quick breath. “Ooh, I hadn’t thought about that. Thanks. And I’m not over this, Lacroix. Making sure Bels found out was underhanded.” She shot him another glare, then brushed it off. “But you can make it up to me by getting me a reservation to Antoine’s for Sunday. Dad wants dinner with Landry and me, and probably my brother-in-law. Anyway, I won’t see Landry until tomorrow. Tonight’s his mamere’s night. You know she’s a voodoo priestess?”

  Adrian chuckled. “I’m well aware of who our young sergeant’s mamere is. She’s one of the most well-respected mambos in Vieux Carré. Not one to cross, Virgine Baure.”

  Chance gave him an irritated look. “Of course you know her. I forget how you know everyone in New Orleans.”

  He winked at her. “Everyone worth knowing. You’ll have to let me know if you get an invite to supper.”

  She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to elaborate, but Adrian simply grinned and waved her off, turning back to whatever work sat on his desk. “Yeah, right. That’s assuming he even still wants to talk to me.”

  Adrian’s mouth quirked up in a sly grin. “I suspect he will. Considering he’s waiting for you in the study.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “And so you know, you have a client in…” he glanced at his watch, “…three hours. So I would suggest not keeping our sergeant waiting.”

  “Back up. Landry’s here?”

  Adrian nodded.

  “To see me?”

  “To see me, but he stayed to see you. I told him you were coming.”

  “Fuck.” Chance stood slowly, not sure she was really ready for this. “Okay then. Wait, who’s the client later?”

  “Your favorite councilman.”

  Chance groaned. “I was hoping you’d pawn him off on the new girl.”

  “I did. He’s actually taken quite a shine to mon ange Moira. However, as she is out of the country…” Adrian shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve allowed her to break skin with him.”

  “Finally!” The man had been begging for it for a year.

  “Indeed. Now I believe you have business to take care of.”

  Chance nodded and turned for the door. “Thanks.” Walking toward the study, she put a hand to her stomach, feeling equal parts dread and anticipation. A few weeks with Landry had turned her world upside down, and she didn’t particularly want to give that up. But the look of disappointment and betrayal in his eyes the night before had spoken volumes.

  Outside the study, she took a deep, steadying breath. You’re a fucking Domme, woman. You can do this. Own it.

  Inside, Landry sat on his knees, facing away from the door. Chance stepped in quietly, admiring the silent strength he bore. He was a beautiful man, inside and out. “You know, I haven’t said this, but I was damn lucky to be the one Adrian asked to train you.”

  If her voice startled him, he didn’t show it. He remained still, with only the slightest inclination of his head to indicate he heard her at all.

  God, he’s such a perfect sub. “I owe you an apology, Landry. I should never have dragged you into my family drama. I put you at risk, and that’s something I never wanted. A Dominant’s duty is to protect and care for submissives, and I failed that when I let Belinda threaten you.” She hesitated, needing to see his face before saying anything else, needing some insight into what he was feeling. She walked past him, taking a seat on the couch opposite where he knelt and staring at his face. It held no anger, no resentment, none of the disappointment from the night before, so she continued. “More than that, I’ve grown to care for you. Beyond any D/s protocol, the last thing I want is to have hurt you. Also, what you said about all this making me not look like the Domme you need… You were right. I’ve been playing the reluctant submissive to my family’s expectations—or what I perceived as their expectations—and resenting the hell out of it my entire life. Which doesn’t really track well for a Domme, does it?”

  Landry’s shoulders sagged the slightest bit, as though some tension had drained out of them. “I care about you too, Maîtresse.”

  The last word, spoken with a soft reverence, made Chance’s heart skip a beat.

  “I won’t lie, your sister’s got a sharp tongue in her head. I know it couldn’t have been easy growing up with all that pressure to be a certain way. But I wanted you to be upfront with them for you. What she said, about wondering how you could meet my needs with so much unsettled in your own life. It bothered me. It’s why I came to see Maître Lacroix this morning. Well, one of the reasons why.” He looked up from the floor, meeting her gaze with dark brown pools that drew her in until she wanted to drown. “I couldn’t sleep last night. I figured the Maître, he’d know what to say. But the look on your face after Belinda had left… There’s a vulnerability in you, underneath your strength, that drew me in from the beginning. It hurt to walk away. But I told you, I can’t abide lies. And I needed you to be strong enough to deal with them.”

  “You did.” Chance sighed, unable to look away. “And you were right. I came to Adrian’s today to tell him I did what I should have done from the beginning. I told them everything. It’s not perfect, and my mother may never speak to me again, but the truth is out there. That, I don’t regret.”

  Landry nodded. “I appreciate that. Can’t have been easy.”

  “It’s not about easy, it’s about right. I’m sorry, Landry. I really am. Sorry for dragging you into my mess, sorry for betraying your trust and not putting your needs first. Can you forgive me? Will you allow me to earn back your trust?”

  His eyes searched hers. “As long as you can forgive me for walking out on you, and for saying the things I did. I shouldn’t have, and it wasn’t my place.”

  Chance waved his apology away. “You should have. And I’m glad you did. Well…” she laughed, “…not glad, but you know what I mean. It helped me see things more clearly.”

  Landry cocked his head. “Like what, if I may ask?”

  “Like how much I really don’t want to lose you. How much I want to be the Domme you need.”

  His eyes darkened and for once, she couldn’t quite read them.

  “What is it, Landry?”

  He shook his head slowly, eyes centered on hers. “I… May I kiss you, Mistress?”

  The words were so soft, she almost missed them, and yet they thundered through her. She nodded slowly and watched as he rocked back on his heels and stood in one fluid motion. His hands gently grasped her knees, as he dropped back onto his own, eyes never wavering from hers.

  Smiling, Chance leaned forward an
d ran her fingernails lightly over Landry’s scalp, through the short layer of close-shaved hair. He didn’t move from where he’d knelt at her feet, only closed his eyes for a moment and clenched his jaw against her touch.

  When his eyes opened, they burned even darker, and he leaned in gradually until their lips met.

  Landry deferred to her, as always, his hands remaining down, but there was an emotion in his kiss, in the soft play of his lips, that made her feel simultaneously weak with want and strong with the need to dominate this man entirely. She wanted to straddle him there in Adrian’s study and do wicked things to him.

  For now, she simply cupped his face and continued the gentle kiss, putting as much of a promise as she could into it. She had no idea what his schedule was, since he was here, but she had clients. Later, though… Later, she would do all the things her imagination was suddenly overrun with. She would force him to stand at attention while she flogged him, make him do pushups while watching her finger herself, make him pleasure her with only his tongue… Maybe she’d even take him from behind. The idea of him facedown over a pommel horse, hands tied—no, grasping his ankles, while she drove into him with her favorite strap-on, made her moan into the kiss. She deepened it, sweeping her tongue through his mouth, nipping at his lips, all the while aware that this was not the best time for it and not caring. She wanted all day with him, and all night, and then some.

  When they broke away, her heart was racing, and she was panting with need. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, Landry Boudreaux? Especially sitting at my feet like that, waiting, almost begging for my next command?”

  She didn’t realize she’d spoken until the words were out, but Chance knew they were the truth. She’d never trained a sub that affected her the way he did, never had the slightest inclination to collar one. She liked her independence, liked being free from anyone else’s needs and wants outside her dungeon. But Chance also knew she wanted more, wanted the kind of deeper love her friends like Cassandra had.

  She wanted him.

  “When do you have to be back to the base?”

  “Not for a few hours, Maîtresse.”

  His voice was deeper than usual, huskier. Turned on. Fan-fucking-tastic. Chance’s grin widened. “I really hoped you would say that.” She ran her fingers down his neck. “Stand up.”

  He stood in one fluid motion, then froze once he was on his feet.

  “Undress.”

  His eyes dropped to her as he slowly unlaced one boot, then the other, set them aside and continued on. Socks, shirt, then pants—she stopped him there, with four words.

  “Give me your belt.”

  He pulled it slowly from the loops of his cargos, wound it a few times and handed it off to her without a sound. She held it as he finished undressing, enjoying the feel of the worn leather against her fingers. And then he was done, standing before her without a stitch of clothing, his impressive cock already hard and straining, veins standing out against the dark shaft.

  Her eyes slowly traveled up his body, past tattoos and old scars, until she met the heat of his gaze. Chance licked her lips and smiled. “Now undress me.”

  Landry swallowed thickly. “Oui, Maîtresse.”

  He knelt, hands lifting her sandals from her feet with a touch so light it felt like worship. Long fingers deftly unbuttoned her blouse, making her shiver with need as they brushed her skin, pushed back the shirt from her shoulders. His gaze roamed over every inch of her body as he unclasped her bra, unzipped her skirt, as he so gently lifted her hips to slide down her black lace panties. It returned to her again as the last bit of her clothing came off, but the hunger she saw in his eyes was tempered with something else. Respect, awe, gratitude at being allowed this sight of her, and…something more. Something that made her breath catch, and the building tension inside her knot sharply before flooding her with warmth.

  “Turn.” The command came with hardly any volume, breathless. “Kneel.” The second fared no better, but Landry obeyed as though they’d been shouted, falling to his knees before her. Chance unlooped the belt she still held, running one hand down a solidly muscled arm. “Hands behind your back.”

  He complied, and Chance began winding the belt around his wrists until she was satisfied he was bound tight. The sight of him on his knees, naked, and the worn leather wrapped tight against his dark skin made her wet with want. This was who she was. Impulsively, she leaned forward and latched her lips onto the cord of muscle where Landry’s shoulder met his neck. She sucked at the skin there, savoring the salty hints left from a day in the New Orleans heat, then wrapped her arms around him and bit down hard.

  She felt his muscles tighten then relax quickly, letting go further when she soothed the bite with her lips and tongue. Her mouth continued to trace the ridge of his shoulder as her nails dug into his chest, scratching out and down. “I want to mark you, cover you in signs that say you’re mine, as clearly as these tattoos.” Chance smiled as he groaned softly. “I could drag you up to my room and flog you until you had welts all over this gorgeous body, but I’m feeling impatient. And I’ve always wanted to fuck in Adrian’s parlor.” She bit at his earlobe then stood, letting her fingers trail across his skin before returning to the leather couch she’d been in before. “Turn around.”

  Landry swung around on his knees to face her, and she immediately caught his chin. “I want your head between my legs, Landry. I want you to fuck me with your mouth until I scream. I want your tongue in my…what’s that fancy Cajun word I’ve heard A use?”

  “Galette, Mistress.”

  His voice was rough with desire, and Chance laughed. “That one. I want your tongue in my galette, and my wet all over your face. And I don’t want a single drop on this fancy leather couch of Adrian’s, understood?”

  “Yes’m.”

  She leaned back with a grin and opened her legs wide. “Then what are you waiting for, Sergeant?”

  Despite the order, Landry surprised her by not diving straight in. Instead, his tongue traced a fiery line from her knee along the path of her inner thigh, making her shiver. He stopped short of the mark, barely scraping his teeth along her hipbone, and then his hot breath tumbled over her. She sucked in a breath, feeling the delicious tension of anticipation flood her body. Brown eyes flicked to meet hers for the briefest of moments, and she glared back a warning.

  He took a deep breath, smiling as he inhaled, then slowly licked the length of her.

  Chance gasped at the contact. Her back arched up out of the chair, fingernails dug into the armrests as the flat of his tongue pressed against her clit. “Fuck me, Landry. Fuck me hard.” She fought the urge to clamp her thighs around his head as he repeated the motion every bit as slowly. Her control wavered as he sucked hard on her labia, and lost the battle entirely as he thrust his tongue in deep, licking up to her clit as he withdrew, then thrust again.

  “God, yes. Harder.” Still holding onto one armrest with a death grip, she grasped his head with her other hand, holding him to her as her legs wrapped around his shoulders. Landry’s reaction was immediate, fucking her harder and faster with his tongue, his mouth working against her as if his life depended on it.

  As far as Chance was concerned, hers did. She heard herself keening as her nails dug into his scalp. Her heels pressed into his shoulders, spurring him on, pushing him until she could feel the tension building low in her belly. Her body writhed against the soft leather of the chair as he drove her closer, his mouth tightly sealed over her most sensitive places.

  She shattered completely as his teeth and tongue dragged over her clit unexpectedly. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The words repeated over and over, as Landry refused to let up his attentions. She clung to him until it became too much, then shoved him away hard. With his hands bound behind him, Landry fell back to the floor, unable to catch himself. Chance stared, her breath coming in gasps. Despite the earth-shattering
orgasm he’d given her, and the accompanying almost painful sensitivity of her sex, she needed more.

  Pushing out of the chair on wobbly legs, she straddled Landry while he stared up at her, unmoving except for the heaving of his chest. Fingers splayed across his chest, she kissed him hard, tasting herself on his lips, salty and sweet. His dick twitched as she rubbed against him, a hot brand against her stomach, and she pushed away with an eager grin. He groaned as she wrapped a hand around his length.

  She sighed at the steel hardness, pumping as she caught his eyes. He swallowed hard, need turning his brown eyes almost black. Chance leaned close, still stroking him. “You will not come until I give you permission, Boudreaux. Are we clear?”

  He licked his lips and nodded once. “Oui, Maîtresse.”

  Chance’s grin widened. “Good. Because I’m going to ride the fuck out of you.”

  Not waiting for an answer, she pushed upright, shifting her hips so she rubbed up and down the length of his cock. Landry’s eyes fluttered closed as he focused on breathing like she’d taught him. When his breathing hitched, she pushed up farther, reaching for the nearby side table. Thank God that Adrian keeps condoms in every room.

  Tearing into the foil packet, Chance paused to dig her nails into Landry’s abs. “Eyes on me, soldier.”

  His eyes snapped open, dropping immediately as she rolled the condom over him.

  “I want you to watch this, Landry. I want you to see as I take every inch of you inside me. As I claim every inch of you.”

  He swallowed, eyes burning, and Chance slowly lifted herself up, positioning him at her entrance. She held herself there until her legs trembled, until Landry was barely breathing at all from anticipation, and then slowly—painfully slowly—she lowered herself down onto him. She watched him as he watched his dick slowly fill her up, his width stretching her. His jaw twitched, clamped tight, as she lifted up and almost off him, only to reverse and take more of him, sinking deeper, and then again, until he was buried in her to the hilt.