Mardi Gras

by Lacey Alexander

  She gazed up into his eyes, the expression in hers pointed, almost feral, giving him the impression that she might want the same thing. “Will you do what I say if I don’t tie you up? Exactly what I say?”

  In actuality, he wasn’t sure he could resist taking control if he wasn’t bound. He wanted to turn the tables on this exciting, delectable woman. But he wasn’t about to tell her that. “Yes,” he lied. “Anything.”

  He sounded so earnest, so needful, it tore at Mia’s heart. Part of her was tempted to rip off her mask and wig and say, It’s me, Mia. Pure insanity, of course. But a big part of 62

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  her wished he knew she was the woman making wild love to him, the woman he was begging, wanting to touch.

  Still, she couldn’t. She’d gone too far into this crazy game now. She had to keep playing or she’d lose everything. Her friendship with Ty. Maybe even her job.

  Definitely this second night of passion. She wasn’t willing to give up any of those things.

  Taking his hand again, she led him up to Bourbon, the crowd and the excitement growing with each step toward the famed street of debauchery. Music played everywhere around them. Guys threw handfuls of beads from balconies to girls who were lifting their shirts below, baring their breasts to the cheers of passersby.

  Hurricanes and daiquiris and enormous glasses of beer were being drunk, or splashed, or spilled. A glance to her right found a college-aged girl purposely oozing a slushy daiquiri onto her exposed breasts while two guys licked and slurped the drink away.

  Mia had never been into that sort of random revelry, even during Mardi Gras. She loved sex, but before Ty, she’d never fucked someone on the first date, and public displays of decadence on the street generally didn’t affect her much one way or the other. But tonight, with a river of heat already flowing through her veins and flooding her pussy—everything around her added to her arousal, with or without her permission.

  When finally they reached Aunt Sophie’s place she reached into her bra and drew out the key, letting them inside. And just like Saturday night, she wanted him so badly that it was all she could do not to just leap on him. She needed to catch her breath, get control of the situation, if she wanted to play his Mistress Mina again.

  Whisking into the front parlor, she opened the French doors wide and stepped out on the balcony for a breath of fresh, calming air. The weather was cooler tonight than last week. But the crowd was wilder—Fat Tuesday, the culmination of Mardi Gras, was only three days away, and you could feel the Quarter’s tension building with each 63

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  successive night. This weekend would be the pinnacle of the heavy partying, all the stops pulled out. Maybe this wasn’t such a good place for attempting to calm herself.

  She stood there unable to think clearly, her desire rising to a fever pitch, when Ty stepped up behind her. His arms slid around her waist as he pressed his hard-on into the center of her ass. She let out a sensual sigh, and rubbed lightly against him, unable to resist.

  Reaching up to pull back her red locks, he lowered a tender kiss to the ultrasensitive skin on her neck, letting the sensation flutter down through her. Then he whispered in her ear, “I don’t mean to be a bad boy, but if you don’t come inside and have your way with me, I’m gonna push up your dress and fuck you on this balcony right now.”

  She turned into his arms, her soft body raking against his hard one. Invisible sparks flew.

  He drew her close against him with one hand, using the other to eagerly massage her breast. “Ooooh,” she purred, thinking— Oh God, yes, his hands were a welcome addition to this evening already.

  Without a hint of hesitation, he tugged on her bodice until one taut nipple appeared above the fabric’s scalloped edge. Molding his hand beneath it, he bent to lick. She moaned in response, never giving a thought to whether anyone below could see what they were doing as she reached out and found his erection through his twill pants.

  By the time he came up for air, they were both panting, hungering for more.

  It was almost enough to make her abandon her plans—to just let him fuck her however came naturally, to just have normal, wild, writhing sex. There was even a part of her that wanted to submit to Ty, to find out what he would do to her if she let him.

  But she’d liked the sense of control she’d felt last Saturday. She liked it and…well, she also thought maybe she needed it—to help her keep her false identity at the forefront, to ensure keeping her secret safe.

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  So she pushed him away. “You are a bad boy,” she said pointedly, no humor in her voice. She motioned toward the open doors. “Go inside and prepare to take your punishment.”

  She couldn’t read his look. Disappointment or excitement?

  Either way, though, he withdrew from her and went inside as he was told, and recapturing that sense of power gave her the security she needed to maintain her ruse and press forward into another evening of hot sex with Ty.

  Following him inside, her heels clicking across the floor, she reached behind her, unzipping her dress. She found Ty standing in the middle of the room, exactly where his wooden chair had been located last time, waiting and watching. Hooking her thumbs through her shoulder straps, she drew the dress off, shrugging free until it fell around her ankles. Her purple lace shelf bra was cut to expose her nipples, so they were both bared now. Her matching garter belt started at her hips, extending nearly to her thighs, cut to resemble a sinfully short miniskirt that barely revealed the crotch of the tiny thong she wore underneath.

  She absorbed his long perusal of her body until he finally said, “You take my breath away.”

  As before, she longed to go to him, just kiss him, just fuck him, but she held her ground—and her identity. “Do you think that makes up for your misbehavior? You promised you’d do exactly as I said, yet I did not tell you to come out on the balcony and rub your cock against me. I did not tell you to kiss my breast. You’ve been a very bad boy again, Ty.”

  Her pussy swelled at the harsh reprimand, even if the dark sparkle in his eyes left her wondering if he was going to acquiesce this time. As much as she relished controlling him right now, the idea that he might not allow it made her cunt spasm further.

  “Strip,” she demanded.

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  She took a seat on the sofa and met his gaze, which seemed to silently challenge her.

  He’s going to fight me on this, she thought . He’s going to fight me, and what then? Who would win?

  She had to. Because if she didn’t, if she turned weak and submissive, she might do something stupid—she might act like herself, she might sound like herself. She might even somehow look like herself. He might see something in her eyes or hear something in her voice that said Mia to him more than Mistress Mina.

  So she glared at him, as if just daring him to argue with her. “Strip, I said.” His eyes narrowed and he looked almost angry, but finally, Ty slowly began to undress. He pulled his polo shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor, then discarded his pants, leaving him in only a pair of gray boxer briefs. His tremendous hard-on made a big tent in front, practically causing her mouth to water.

  “All the way,” she said when he stopped there, then enjoyed the view as he pushed down his underwear and stepped free of them.

  God, he was gorgeous naked. Maybe the other night she’d been too busy with her plans, or too nervous, making sure everything went just right, to really take her time looking at him like this, to just study him and savor it. But now she was doing both.

  “You have a fabulous body, lover.”

  “Thank you, Mistress.”

  His eyes still shot fire as he stared at her, and she suddenly knew she needed to put this man in his place—quickly—before he decided to put her in hers. “Get on your hands and knees,” she instructed.

  This time, he obediently followed the order, pleasing her. Reachin
g up, she absently cupped one breast, lightly twirling her nipple as she watched him. He kept his eyes on her, too.

  “Now, crawl toward me.”

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  As he did, she observed the muscles in his arms and shoulders working, gliding—

  he moved toward her like a sexy jungle cat.

  When he neared her, she lifted one shoe to stop his progress, pressing the inch-high platform beneath her toes lightly to his forehead. He halted, letting her hold him there like that.

  “Lick the heel of my shoe,” she told him, a little surprised at the skittery reaction in her cunt. She had planned this part of it—wanting to experiment a little deeper with the notion of submission—never having a clue such an act would excite her, too.

  She watched as he dragged his tongue up the smooth patent leather heel, her pussy weeping in response, and added, “Keep going. Onto my ankle, up my leg.” A slow trail of fire climbed her inner calf, past her knee, up her thigh, past the top of her stocking, until he was tonguing her clit through lace. “Ooooh,” she moaned hotly, now fondling both her breasts, aware his gaze was glued to them.

  “Now reach under my garter belt, and when you find a ribbon, pull it.” He did, his fingers barely whispering across her skin, and when he tugged on the ribbon, her thong loosened.

  “Now the other side,” she whispered. “Then pull my panties away so you can look at my pussy.”

  Her legs were spread wide, so once the scrap of lace was gone, her cunt was put on proud display, looking pink and slick and lush.

  “Do you want to lick it?”

  He dragged his heated gaze to her face, nodding.

  “Too bad.” She laughed. “Tonight that’s a treat reserved for only good boys. Instead, you’ll stay where you are and watch me pleasure it.” Ty couldn’t believe her beautifully wet pussy was mere inches from his face and she wasn’t going to let him feast on it. Her clit protruded, swollen and needy-looking, as if begging for his tongue, and he yearned to taste her, longed to feel those soft pink inner 67

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  lips surrounding his mouth as he licked up through them and across the glistening nub of flesh. Just how long, he wondered, was she expecting him to put up with being denied like this? And just how long would he? Last time, she’d helped him live out a fantasy. This time, he was trying to indulge her dominance, but he simply wanted what he wanted, and he didn’t like being told no.

  He felt near to collapse when he watched her reach between the couch cushions and draw out a shiny gold vibrator. Even more so when she said, “Get it wet for me, lover,” and inserted it into his mouth before he could even think of protesting.

  She pushed it in slow and deep in a way that made his stomach contract, since he was unwittingly finding out what it must be like to take a cock in your mouth. She began thrusting the cylinder slowly between his lips, and he wondered how he looked doing this and if she liked it.

  Finally, she withdrew the vibrator from his mouth and inserted it smoothly into her pussy in one swift action. “Mmm,” she said, then turned the end with long purple fingernails, making the toy buzz to life as she began to slide it easily in and out.

  Being that close made him fucking crazy. In one sense, it excited the hell out of him, but in another, he felt excluded, like he desperately needed to be involved.

  And, damn it, he was going to be involved. Right now.

  “Let me lick your clit, Mistress Mina,” he said, a little more forcefully than he meant to. And he didn’t wait for her to give him permission. Instead, he simply leaned in to lap at her hot, open pussy. Oh God, she tasted good. Her clit was like a thick, soft bead on his tongue. He drank in her pungent scent, letting it surround him, drown him.

  Above, she bit her lip and whimpered with pleasure, thrilling him. Mmm, yes. His naughty Mistress Mina clearly didn’t mind—or at least couldn’t resist—letting him take a little control. And he was more than happy to suddenly find himself back in the driver’s seat, where he liked to be.

  He continued licking, matching the rhythm of her thrusting gold toy, which still vibrated just below his mouth, occasionally bumping his chin. It at once excited and 68

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  irritated him that she was pushing the hot little rod in and out of herself while he licked her—he wanted all her pleasure to come from him.

  Reaching up, he covered her fingertips with his at the base of the vibrator. “Let me do it,” he murmured against her pink flesh.

  She released the toy into his grasp without argument and he instantly pushed it in farther and deeper, harder than her own strokes, loving it when she cried out. Yes. He wanted her to feel it coming directly from him.

  He fastened his mouth tight around the bud of her clit and sucked as he continued fucking her with the vibrator, delivering insistent thrusts. He didn’t want her to have any sort of soft, gentle orgasm—no way. He wanted it to hit her hard. He’d taken back control and he was going to use it for his own satisfaction.

  She responded to his mouth and the vibrator, meeting the intense drives of the toy, and letting out a hot little cry at each. He drew hard on her clit and made her sob. And he was just beginning to wonder if maybe he’d gone too far, sucked too hard and actually hurt her, when he felt something at the back of his head, bracing him against her.

  He looked up from his task, over his shoulder, to see she had locked him in place with their old friend, the black riding crop, placing it behind his head like a bar, holding tight to it with both fists.

  “Lick me!” she demanded, pressing on the crop so that he had no other choice. He sank his face back into her wet pink folds and got lost in the work of licking and sucking at her hot nub, still pummeling her with the vibrator, only wishing it were wider and longer so he could give her more.

  “Mmm, mmm, mmm,” she began to sob in a hot, rising rhythm, and he knew she was about to come. He licked and sucked her simultaneously, effectively French-kissing her clit, and she pulled the crop tighter, pressing him deeper into her. He fucked her as thoroughly as possible with the vibrator, nearly inserting his fingers up inside her along with it.

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  “Oh God, yes!” she yelled then. “Yes, yes, yes, baby—God, oh God, yeah!” She fucked both his mouth and the vibrator hard, pumping, pumping, filling him with so much satisfaction as she came that he rose up, shoved her to her back on the couch, and buried his cock in her in one brutal thrust.

  They both let out ferocious moans and Ty didn’t move, just kept her pinned there beneath him, around him, enjoying the simple, feral pleasure of having taken back full control.

  When she finally came down from the high, she looked pleasantly spent, filling him with masculine pride. “How was your orgasm, Mistress Mina?” She gave him a scolding, angry sort of smile. “Excellent, naughty boy. But you’re going to be severely punished for your insistence on licking me.” He lowered a soft, tiny kiss to her nipple, then gazed up at her, delivering a wicked grin. “Maybe I’ve decided I’m through being a good boy. Maybe I’ve decided to change the rules of our little game.”

  He had no idea how she would react, but he could tell from her sharp intake of breath that his switch to dominance fueled her excitement.

  Even so, she pushed him away and got to her feet before him, so that he was looking up into her smooth-shaven cunt. He watched her cross the room, loving the way she walked around with her breasts and pussy exposed, all the while leaving on her super-sexy lingerie and those fuck-me heels, which he thought he might be officially developing a fetish for, now that he’d actually licked one of them.

  “What if I say the game is over then? Meaning the sex is over?” she snapped, turning to face him.

  Ah, so she was excited, but resisting it. He knew he was playing with fire, but gave her a truthful answer, still flashing his most devilish look. “I don’t think that’s going to happen. I don’t think you can say no.”

 
; She looked defiant. “What makes you so sure?”

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  “Your pussy’s too wet. Your nipples are too pointed. And you might be able to hide your face from me, but you can’t hide the excitement in your eyes.”

  “Lie down on the couch. On your stomach,” she said, her voice all business.

  “No.”

  She looked stalwart, angry, and he suddenly understood—if he took all her power away, all her control, it changed everything she was—or at least everything she’d chosen to be for him. When her expression turned into something new, giving him the idea that she felt a little lost, maybe didn’t know what to do, it tore at his heart a little.

  He realized he needed to meet her halfway, so he spoke gently. “Tell me something, Mina.”

  He saw her swallow, but her answer still came strong. “What?”

  “Have you ever been tied up?”

  She hesitated, then shook her head.

  “Would you like to be?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “After you tied me up the other night, can you tell me, in all honesty, that you didn’t wonder how it felt to be on the other side?” Still no response, but her pink nipples stayed tautly erect, and her eyes glittered with passion.

  He dropped his voice even lower. “Let me show you. Give me the power, just this once. Trust me.”

  She spent a long moment considering the request, then finally took a few steps back toward him, her sexy heels clicking across the floor. “Promise me that in the end, you’ll let me…have my way.”

  “Define that for me, Mina.”

  “If I let you do what you want to me, you have to return the favor afterward.” 71

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  He blinked, mulling over the bargain. If she was willing to bend for him like this, couldn’t he give her a little something back in return? “Sure,” he finally said. “Okay.” She gave a short nod, unsmiling, then strolled back across the room with her pretty ass partially on display beneath that lovely garter belt. She returned a moment later carrying some familiar lengths of rope in her hand, only more of it than last time.