Fleur de Nuit: Bourbon Street Bondage, Book 1 (11 page)

“Oui, I’ll chew through my tie if you don’t. And then I’ll be forced to beat you with my belt, because that’s one of my favorite ties.”

Moira laughed and pulled herself up to untie him. The feel of his thick cock sliding out of her as she moved almost changed her mind, but the pain on Adrian’s face made it worth it. Her fingers made quick work of the belt, but took longer with the silk that he’d pulled so tight.

“I will take my tongue to your lovely wet galette if you don’t hurry, mon ange.”

She laughed. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

With a quick tug, she freed the tie from the headboard. Adrian’s hands were all over her in a heartbeat. They grabbed at the tear in the hem and ripped upward. The dress was in pieces in moments.

And then Moira found herself on her back, while Adrian thrust hard into her. Her back arched high, and she couldn’t keep in the moan of pleasure that tore from her throat. “God damn you, Adrian. You promised—”

“Maudit. I lied.” His mouth covered hers in a hard kiss, cutting off any further complaint as he thrust harder into her. His hands traced her body, pinched at her nipples, his fingers dug into her hard enough to make bruises.

He swallowed her screams as she came, but he didn’t slow down. He shifted positions, pulling his knees under him, and then tugged her into his lap. They rocked together, skin slapping loudly, hands roving, fingers digging in tight from shoulder to ass and everything in between. Moira bit along his jaw and down his neck and shoulder, which only encouraged him.

She came again, harder than before. Her nails broke the skin of his back, raking red lines up his shoulder and sending him over the edge after her.

They collapsed together on the bed, gasping for breath, with Adrian muttering in French or Cajun or both.

“Maudit, ma chère.”

Moira laughed. “Indeed.”

“You make me want to have a cigarette, and I’ve never smoked in my life. It’s almost a shame you’re not a sub, though I must admit to enjoying your feistiness.” He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to his chest. “I have a proposition for you, mon ange noir.”

She frowned slightly and ran her finger up and down his chest. “I’m listening.”

“D’you know the difference between a Domme and a Dominatrix?”

Moira turned her head so her chin rested on his chest. “No?”

“A Domme is simply a femme Dominant. A Dominatrix, or a Pro-Domme, is one who does it for money.” His long finger quickly covered her lips. “And before you protest, there is a great bit of difference between a Dominatrix and a whore. A Dominatrix is paid to cater to her clients’ power fetishes, not for sex. There is no sex, only domination.”

She turned his words over in her head. “So, whips, chains, ordering around, humiliation, all of that. But no sex.”

“Yes, exactly. All that and more, depending on the client’s needs and desires. But no sex.”

“Okay?”

“I want you to work for me as one. You’ll debut at Fleur de Nuit in two weeks, regardless. But I do believe you’d make a fantastic Dominatrix, and that you’d also enjoy it.”

“But no sex.”

Adrian laughed and Moira smiled. “Mon ange noir, you would still be welcome to both my subs and my bed, if that’s what’s worrying you.”

Moira bit her lip.

“Ma chère, it makes me very hard when you do that.”

She smiled, but didn’t stop. “Is that why you bought all that today?”

“Peut-être. I hoped, but I also wish to present you as the Domme I know you can be. Who you proved tonight you can be. We will, of course, keep working on your confidence. The woman I saw tonight, I want to see all the time, whether you’re with me or not. Be a Domme in all parts of your life, and you’ll have the control you wanted so much when you first came to me. Regardless, I do hope you’ll consider my offer.”

“And if I don’t?”

His hand drifted down her back to trace the curve of her ass. She shivered.

“I’ll be disappointed. But that will not change your welcome.”

Moira bit her lip again and then dipped her head to kiss his chest. He tasted salty and smelled of sex and heat, and she wanted him again. More, she wanted what he was offering.

“I’ll do it.”

Chapter Twelve

The heaviness pinning her down sent Moira’s sleep-disoriented mind spiraling into panic.

Oh God.

He’s here. He’s here, and I’m trapped.

God, no.

No no no nononononono—

Large hands pulled at her, and she struggled harder. Desperation to get away overwhelmed her.

This can’t be happening. I can’t do this again!

She was vaguely aware of his voice, saying words her brain couldn’t or wouldn’t process, and of a strange keening coming from somewhere. But none of it mattered. All that mattered was escaping.

And suddenly, she was. She was free, falling off the bed and stumbling up across the floor—

Light flooded the room, breaking through her panic.
Wait. This isn’t—

“Maudit, mon ange!”

Moira slowly turned. “Adrian.” She breathed his name, embarrassed horror pouring over her. “Oh God.” She wrapped her hands around herself unconsciously, one hand covering her mouth. She fought to bring her racing heart under control. “I’m so sorry.”

Adrian stood across the room with a wary look on his face. Three long red scratches ran over his jaw. But as she watched, his body sagged and his wary look turned worried. “Are you all right, chère?”

Moira nodded, even as she held herself tighter.

“You had a flashback?”

She nodded again. “I—” Moira swallowed, trying to wet the dryness in her throat. “I haven’t slept over with a man since…” She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the terror. “I woke up and I couldn’t move and I panicked.” She suddenly felt exposed and mortified, and her feet moved before her brain even processed what she was doing. “I need to go. I need to call Kara. I need—”

Adrian’s arms wrapped around her, his voice whispering soothing words. “Shhh, mon ange, calm yourself. You’re safe here, remember? Here is where you take control.”

A single sob shuddered through her. “I need to call Kara.”

“Ma chère, you may call Kara if you like, I won’t stop you.” His arms tightened for a brief moment, then relaxed again as he lowered his head against her neck. “But breathe for a moment. Calm yourself. Look around. Nothing here will harm you.”

Moira leaned back into him, letting his voice and his arms soothe her. “I’m sorry.”

“Arrête-toi, mon ange. You have nothing to apologize for.” He breathed her in, and then pulled back. “Come, sit.”

He pulled her to the bed, and she didn’t argue, just sat with him.

“Do you always call Kara when this happens?”

Moira’s eyebrows drew together. “I do. I hadn’t realized it, but I do. God, Adrian, I’m such a—”

“Stop, Moira.” His finger on her lips stopped her as he said the words. “You can’t expect that all your history and all your trials would vanish in a blink. Your Kara has been a lifeline for a very long time, and it’s a role she is happy to play. You’ve made enormous strides these last few weeks. Don’t belittle that, ma chère. And don’t think it’ll all change overnight. You understand?”

Moira looked away. “I’ve felt so amazing these last few days. Like my old self. Like a new self. And then something like this happens, and none of it matters, because I’m still terrified. I’m still a victim, no matter how much I try to escape it.”

“Moira, mon ange noir, look at me.” She turned slowly, until he held her chin in one hand. “You are not a victim. You were, but you are no longer. You are a strong woman, a Domme that I am proud to be training. Hold that. Remember that, especially during the times when it’s hard to.”

She nodded, and when he opened his arms, she gratefully folded herself into them.

“Now, ma chère, come back to bed. Because this ungodly hour of the morning is only good for two things, and we’re doing neither of them.”

Moira laughed, finally feeling better, and let him pull her back to the tangled sheets. But when they’d finished, and Adrian had fallen back asleep, she gathered her things and left.

“Sweet God in heaven, Kara. Please close the curtains before I’m forced to get out of this bed and kill you.”

Kara laughed, but the light disappeared for the most part. A moment later, the bed dipped and Moira felt Kara’s arm drape over her.

“Please tell me you got incredibly wasted last night and had incredible sex.”

Moira smiled, in spite of the blinding headache the lack of sleep and her early morning panic had given her. “I didn’t get wasted. But I did have incredible sex, of the dress ripping and fucking all fucking night variety. I only barely got home…” she peered out from under the covers at her phone, “…an hour ago, and I’m exhausted. I have never wanted sleep so much in my life, and I include senior college exam week in that.”

Kara laughed again, and Moira was grateful that she laughed instead of squealing. “He is rather amazing, isn’t he?”

Moira grunted. “He is. I wish he wasn’t a Dom. He’d be even more amazing perpetually tied to a bed. Or his desk. Or anything, really,” she added after a moment.

“Bite your tongue. He’s amazing because he’s a Dom, and if he wasn’t, you’d still be moping around here wondering what you were missing in life.”

Moira’s comeback was a heartbeat late, and she knew Kara caught it when her body stiffened next to her.

“What happened?”

Moira kicked herself and sighed. “I fell asleep with him.”

Kara reached down and pulled the hair out of her eyes, leveling her with a concerned look. “And? Because I can’t see the bad part of that.”

Moira made a noise. “And I woke up with him on top of me, and I panicked. I was certain he was Justin, and he’d caught me again. I scratched up his face trying to get away.”

“Oh hon. Don’t tell me you ran out the door without talking to him? And then didn’t call me? Because I know I didn’t miss any calls from you. I spent half the night checking.”

Moira cringed.
God, that’s fucked up.
She rolled over and stared at her best friend. “I hate that you feel like you have to do that. But no, I didn’t. He convinced me to stay and talk. For a little bit, anyway. I wanted my own bed.”

Kara snorted. “I don’t know why. Adrian’s is bigger and way more comfortable.” Her glib remark belied the concern in her face. “I’m glad you talked to him, though. You still could’ve called.”

“I know. He talked me down, and I was fine. But I wish…” Moira sighed and didn’t finish.

“You’re getting there, hon. It takes time.”

Moira barked a bitter laugh. “That’s exactly what he said. Whatever. I’m exhausted, so please shut up and let me sleep, if you’re staying. Or I might be forced to tie you to the bed and gag you.”

Kara laughed but crawled under the covers with her. “I keep telling you not to make threats you aren’t prepared to follow up on.”

Moira looked over her shoulder. “Oh, I’m prepared. But if you’re nice and let me sleep, I’ll show you all my fun new things later.”

Kara made a show of zipping her lips and curled up against her.

When she woke again, a few hours later, she felt far more content than she usually did after an episode. But Kara hadn’t forgotten her promise to show off the things Adrian had bought her.

She practically dragged Moira out of bed, to stand staring at the pile of boxes and bags that had been delivered to Moira’s apartment the day before by one of Adrian’s entourage.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I know!” Moira sat on the ground, pulling items out to show Kara. “I kept wondering when he was going to stop. And he didn’t, not until he shoved a dress at me and told me to change, and then took me to dinner at Antoine’s.”

“God, I love that man. Where’s the dress?”

Moira smiled. “In pieces on Adrian’s bedroom floor.”

“It’s like I don’t even know you. I love it. What else?”

Moira bit her lip and turned back to the pile in front of her. “He wants me to work for him as a Dominatrix.”

“No fucking way!” Kara laughed, leaning her head back and shaking it in disbelief. “Timid little Moira D’Arcangelis, a Pro-Domme. You said yes, right?”

Moira laughed. “I did. I don’t want to quit teaching, so there are things we’re going to have to discuss first. But he wants to present me as available for hire at the club in two weeks.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic, honey. Speaking of, how’s the tattoo?”

Moira grimaced. Adrian had stayed on her the whole day before about keeping it moist, but a night romping in his sheets hadn’t helped. “It’s fine. It still hurts. He made a comment about needing black wings across my back.”

“Ha. You know me, I’m always pro-tat. It would look amazing on you.”

“Please. You’re as delusional as he is.”

Kara raised her hands with a smile. “I’m just saying.”

Moira rolled her eyes. “
Just say
all you want. It isn’t happening. Ink isn’t my style.”

“Your choice. You’d be a seriously fuckhot Domme with them, though.”

Moira didn’t answer, but threw the closest thing she had on hand. It turned out to be the lace brocade corset she’d loved on sight.

Kara whistled. “Hot damn, honey. Okay, you have to put this on. Actually, you have to put all of this on. I need a fashion show.”

“Dammit, Kara, I spent all day yesterday putting on a private fashion show for Adrian.”

“And now you’re going to put on one for your best friend, without whom none of this…” she waved her finger to encompass the pile of new things, “…would have happened. So shake that fine little ass of yours and get changing.”

Moira groaned, but smiled. “Fine.” She stood up and snatched the corset back from Kara, and went into her room to change. “What have you been up to, anyway? I feel like I never get to talk to you now.”

“I know! Damn Adrian. He wasn’t supposed to monopolize you to the point where I never got to see you.” A small bit of real annoyance tinged her words, but when Kara leaned in her doorway, Moira could see the amusement in her eyes. “Damn, woman. That looks amazing on you.”

Moira grinned and spun. She had to admit, she felt amazing in it. “Thanks.”

“I mean it.”

Moira blushed. “You know, I have a better idea than me giving you a private fashion show. How do you feel about brunch?”

“I can be convinced. I thought you wanted to stay in?”

Moira shrugged and pulled off the corset. Amazing as it was, she wasn’t prepared to wear it to brunch. “I think I’ve had enough staying in to last a lifetime.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I think so.” She pulled a T-shirt over her head and turned. “How does Two Sisters sound?”

“Ooo, the Jazz Brunch? Sounds fantastic.”

“Excellent.” She threaded her arm through Kara’s and pulled her out of the apartment. “And you can tell me all about what—and who—you’ve been doing. Because I’m tired of talking about me.”