Fleur de Nuit: Bourbon Street Bondage, Book 1 (17 page)

Tamara traced the line of Kara’s back, and slapped her ass one more time. “And nine simply because I missed you.”

Kara groaned. “Thank you, Mistress.”

Moira’s back arched, and she squeezed her eyes shut as Seth held her down, and she came in self-enforced silence.

Tossing the crop to the side, Tamara slowly began undoing the ropes around Kara’s wrists and ankles. Just as slowly, she trailed her fingers down Kara’s back once she was free. “On your back.”

Kara whimpered, but complied. Tamara tied her wrists again, and leisurely kissed her. Grinning, she trailed her fingers down Kara’s front as she walked to the foot of the bed. Tamara winked at Moira and reached down for a small container that had been hiding in the darkness.

Moira smiled as Tamara lifted the lid off the ice bucket and slipped a piece into her mouth before settling between Kara’s legs.

Kara screamed, her back arching, arms pulling against their restraints. Tamara wrapped her arms around Kara’s hips and pinned her down. Her mouth worked the ice against Kara until it melted. Sitting up, Tamara placed another piece in her mouth, and slid her way up Kara’s stomach, giving her nipples the same treatment. When the second piece of ice melted, Tamara kissed her again and straddled her.

Tamara rocked, riding Kara slowly.

Seth leaned in close and whispered, “Mistress never wears panties if she can help it.”

Moira nodded slightly, too drawn in by the scene in front of her, and growing desperate to do a little playing of her own. Seth had only barely taken the edge off.

“Mistress, please. Please.”

Tamara laughed. “Say my name, Kara, pet.”

“Mistress Tamara! Please, Mistress Tamara.”

“Please what?” Her hips rocked at the same steady pace.

“Please, Mistress Tamara, please let me come.”

Tamara leaned her head back and smiled. “Come for me, Kara. I want to hear you again and again.”

Kara’s back arched as her orgasm ripped through her. “Mistress!”

Tamara’s rhythm continued to the chorus of Kara’s screams and moans, growing slowly faster, until finally, she reached her peak.

When Tamara finally collapsed onto Kara, their bodies heaving together, Moira was sure she’d never been so wet in her life.

She was also pretty sure that if she didn’t fuck someone in the next five minutes, things were going to get ugly.

A moan from Adrian’s corner made her turn to see he was more than busy with Josephine. His long fingers fisted in her hair as she took him deep in her mouth. Moira growled and snapped her fingers at Seth. His gold and brown eyes immediately found hers.

“Mistress?”

Moira stood and pointed to the wide chair she’d been in. “Sit.” She stripped off her jacket and dropped her panties to the floor. Seth’s eyes devoured her as she straddled him. Reaching down, she impatiently unbuckled the leather pouch attached to his harness, freeing an impressively straining cock.

Moira smiled wickedly. “My my, Seth.” She tapped his chest with her crop and then leaned in. “Sit forward.”

Seth complied, and Moira tucked her crop behind his back, pinning his arms. “They used to do this to us in my riding lessons, to teach us to sit up straight.” She held onto the ends of the crop, forcing his elbows in and back, and nibbled at his ear and jaw. “Don’t move.”

Muscles tense, Seth stayed perfectly still while she pulled a condom out of the top of her corset, grateful Adrian had suggested it. She bit her lip and rolled it on him, watching how his jaw clenched. Grabbing the ends of her crop again, Moira slowly lowered herself onto him.

“Oh God, Seth. You are lovely.”

She jerked the crop up higher, pushing his arms back even more and forcing his chest out. Moira kissed his neck, moving slowly up to his jaw, nipping up one side and down the other before drawing on his lower lip. Then she pushed forward and kissed him hard. As Seth responded with a moan, Moira rocked her hips in a hard rhythm.

Seth’s hands reached out for her, and Moira pushed away with a grin. “Hands down, Seth.” She rolled her hips again when his hands dropped. Tightening her grip on the crop, she pushed it hard into his biceps. Her hips moved faster. She nipped and bit her way across his jaw and neck and shoulders hard enough to leave marks, but never let him touch her.

By the time she felt his build rising alongside hers, his fists were clenched tight and his face was a mask of pain and pleasure.

Moira picked up her pace. Seth quivered under her, straining to control himself. She leaned forward again, nibbling at his ear, and whispered, “Come with me, Seth.”

He came with a shuddering moan that sent her tumbling over the edge with him. Moira leaned hard on him, riding them both through their peak, and then collapsed with a laughing sigh.

Chapter Seventeen

The bells of St. Louis Cathedral rang through the early morning gloom when Moira emerged from Fleur de Nuit on Adrian’s arm and climbed back into the waiting black carriages. The silence of Les Coulisses, the staging house, was staggering after the noise and heat of the club. Moira sighed as they reached the changing room and collapsed into one of the chairs.

“Tired, mon ange noir?” His long fingers rubbed at her bare neck, kneading the muscles there.

“Exhausted.” She sighed. “You do know D’Arcangelis doesn’t mean dark angel, right?”

Adrian chuckled. “Oui, mon ange. I do. But you are my dark angel. Should I call you instead L’Ange Déchu, my fallen angel?”

Moira’s eyes flickered shut as Adrian’s fingers continued to work. “Mmm. No, I’m fine with being your dark angel.” She yawned. “These are the kinds of things I think about at absurd hours of the morning when I’ve been up all night.”

His fingers left off their kneading as he walked around in front of her to lightly grasp her chin. “You did very well, ma chère. I’m very proud of you. But as comfortable as that chair is, it would be better if you changed and went home with Kara before you fais do-do.”

Moira gave him a confused look at the bit of Creole she wasn’t familiar with.

Adrian laughed and removed her top hat. “Fais do-do? Fall asleep. You don’t want to do it in the chair. A bed is far more comfortable.”

“Ah.” Moira forced herself up and began to undress. She left the stockings, but swapped out her heels and underthings. The corset didn’t exactly fit under the blue dress she’d originally worn, and it felt good to have it off.

She was thrilled when Adrian told her he’d arrange to have her things taken back to her apartment later.

They left the changing room together to find Kara waiting in the entry hall. Mistress Tamara stood with her, her fingers tracing the edge of Kara’s face as they talked. As Tamara cupped Kara’s jaw and kissed her, Moira felt an odd twist of something in her gut.

Something that felt shockingly like jealousy.

“Mon ange?”

She looked at Adrian, who looked back at her with a bemused expression. “What?”

He raised his eyebrows, but said nothing, simply offered his arm and escorted her to where Kara stood, watching Mistress Tamara and her subs leave. Kara turned to them with a smile.

“Kara, ma petite, are you ready to take our ange noir home?”

Kara held her hand out for Moira’s. “Come on, sleepyhead. You look dead on your feet.”

Moira shook her head. “I am. Us stuffy history teachers aren’t used to staying up all night fornicating.”

Kara burst out laughing. “All right, Moira, it’s definitely time to get you to bed.” She pulled Moira out the door, waving to Adrian.

Moira sighed. “I’m exhausted, but I don’t really want to go home. Aren’t you tired?”

Kara smiled. “Deliciously so. Come on, you can crash at my place. We’ll snuggle up and celebrate your fantastic debut by sleeping most of the day.”

“Sounds perfect.”

They rode the streetcar back to Canal Street in silence. Moira rested her head on Kara’s shoulder and let her thoughts wander. It wasn’t until they were back on their feet and joining the rest of the late night revelers returning home that Moira spoke again.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Kara laughed. “As long as we’ve been friends, I thought we were past the point of having to ask if we could ask.”

Moira tipped her head to the side in acknowledgement. “True.”

They walked in silence for another minute or two.

“So, were you going to ask something?”

Moira shrugged. “I guess.” She hesitated but finally asked. “If I hadn’t been so needy after Justin, and after Mom dying, if I hadn’t moved down here, would you have let Tamara collar you?”

Kara looked away with a sad smile. “You really shouldn’t think that’s your fault.”

Moira stopped and looked at her oldest friend. “But would you?”

“It was a long time ago, Moira. And I really don’t know. Things were different. I was different.” She reached out and took Moira’s hand again. “I don’t regret any of it, though. She moved. I stayed. And I got you down here with me in the bargain.”

Moira stepped forward and hugged her. “As long as you don’t regret it.”

Kara laughed. “The only thing I regret is not taking you to see Adrian sooner. Think of all the fun we could’ve been having!”

Moira woke to the sound of the front door opening. It took her a moment to adjust, and to remember that it wasn’t her own bed she was in, but Kara’s. She opened her eyes slowly, stretched and reached for her phone.

One thirty. She groaned quietly and then remembered why she’d woken.

The front door.

And voices in the living room.

Moira stretched again, trying to hear what was being said, but couldn’t make it out. She thought about putting on clothes, at least until she remembered she didn’t have any because she was at Kara’s, and had been since Friday.

Screw it. Kara wanders around in her underwear all the time.

She smiled, remembering the previous day’s episode with the delivery boy, and got up. She’d borrowed a shirt from Kara to sleep in, so it wasn’t like she was naked. Moira yawned and ran her fingers through her hair. She felt worn out, even after sleeping most of the day. Or maybe because she had slept most of the day.

Not like it had anything to do with staying up all night drinking and fucking. Mostly fucking, since Moira was smart enough to know she’d never held her liquor well, even without the club’s limit. Even before she’d met Justin, she’d had a firm two-drink limit unless she was home drinking wine.

God, I could use some water.

Moira’s thoughts continued to swirl as she stumbled down the hall. It wasn’t until she hit the living room that the voice she’d been hearing clicked.

“You can’t tell me you haven’t missed me, Kara. I saw how fast you ran last night, and I heard you beg.”

Moira froze. Neither of them saw she was there, but she didn’t dare move.

Kara looked at the floor. “It isn’t about missing you, Mistress.”

“Your friend is fine. You saw her last night. She’s more than fine, and you know Adrian will look after her if she needs it. And she won’t need it.” Tamara stood, lifting Kara’s chin and kissing her softly. “Promise me you’ll think about it.”

“I will promise to think about it, but that’s all.”

“Good enough.” Tamara looked up, finally noticing Moira. Their eyes locked for a moment, but Tamara’s gave nothing away. “Moira. I didn’t know you were here.”

Kara turned, startled. Unlike Tamara’s, Kara’s face gave everything away. Panic, shock, worry, longing.

“Tamara.” Moira was determined not to give anything away, either. Her eyes flicked to Kara and back to the other Domme.

Tamara twitched half a smile, and turned back to Kara. “Think about it.” She kissed her again and left.

Kara sighed. “Sorry, hon. I was trying not to wake you up.”

Moira shook her head and walked over to her friend. “It’s fine. The bed was empty.”

Kara gave her a look. “A month ago, I don’t think you would have noticed.”

Moira perched on the arm of the chair Kara sat in and took her hand. “I have you to thank for that.”

Kara looked away. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough. She wants you to go with her?”

She nodded. “She’s here through the week after next.”

Moira took a quiet breath. “Do you want to?”

“I don’t know.” Kara turned inward, her eyes staring at the corner but not seeing anything. “Years ago, I might have said yes without a thought. But now…”

Moira brushed a lock of hair behind Kara’s ear. “You don’t have to stay for me.”

Kara turned, leaning her face into Moira’s hand. “I know. I’m not. Because she’s right, you are fine. You’re more than fine.”

“As long as I’m not holding you back.”

Kara yawned and shook her head. “You’ve never held me back, Moira.”

“Good.” Moira bent and kissed the corner of Kara’s mouth, and then took her hand again. “Come back to bed.” She stood, pulling Kara with her back to the bedroom.

But long after Kara fell asleep with Moira’s arms wrapped around her, Moira continued to stare at the bedroom walls.

Chapter Eighteen

The bell above the shop door rang quietly as Moira stepped in, the smell of ink and disinfectant assaulting her nose. The girl at the front desk gave her a disinterested look and turned back to her magazine.

“Help you?”

Moira instantly wished she had her crop. She’d never been big on the sullen-teenager act, and combined with the goth hair, tats and multiple piercings, the girl’s attitude immediately sent her into Domme mode.

Crop or not, she could handle this.

Moira leaned over the counter and put a single finger under the girl’s chin, putting enough pressure into it that she had to look up. Moira gave her a
don’t fuck with me
grin. “I’m looking for Moreau.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “I’ll, um, just… He’s in the back. I’ll go get him.”

Moira dropped her hand. “Thank you.”

Moreau came up a minute later without the girl.

“Moira, right? One of Adrian’s?”

She smiled. “That’s right.”

He nodded. “Everything okay with the fleur?”

“Perfect, thanks. I was hoping you could help me with something else.”

Moreau laughed. “Really? I didn’t think I’d see you in here again without Kara frog-marching you.”

Moira shrugged and smiled wider. “I don’t object to tattoos. It was more that I was surprised, and I like to choose what happens to my body.”

He laughed again. “I see. So what can I do for you, then? Do you need to look through the books? I’m assuming you’re here for more ink, right?”

She shook her head. “Yes, I am. And no, I don’t think I need to look. If I tell you what I want, can you tell me if you can do it?”

“Honey, if you can think it, I can ink it. And if I can’t, one of my kids can.”

“Good.” She quickly outlined what she wanted.

Moreau rubbed his jaw. “You don’t start small, do you?”

“Go big or go home, right?”

“Well.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can do the outline in one go, but it’ll be a process to fill in the detail. Several visits, likely. Either way, it’ll be a long sit.”

“That’s fine, but I’d like to get it blocked in at least, if that’s all right.”

A slow smile crept across his face. “I hope you brought a book, then. Come on back, let’s get it done.”

Hours later, Moira’s phone buzzed again.

Where are you???

Kara had been texting her for the last hour of her session. Moira grimaced. Her best friend would likely be furious that she hadn’t told her what she was doing, but she’d really wanted to surprise her. Five hours in the chair later, she wasn’t so sure about the idea.

I’ll call in a minute.

Moreau’s girl handed her receipt and card back to her and gave her a pen to sign with. Moira scribbled her name and handed the receipt back.

Time to face the music.

She dialed Kara’s number and prepared to get yelled at.

Kara picked up on the first ring. “Please tell me you’ve been fucking someone fabulous, so I don’t have to kill you. You were supposed to be here an hour ago.”

Moira winced and walked back out onto the street. “No, but I do have a good excuse.”

“I’m waiting to hear it.”

She hesitated. “I’d rather show you. It’s easier. Meet me at my place?”

Kara gave a dramatic sigh. “Fine.”

“See you there, then.”

They hung up and Moira dialed another number.

“Bonjour, mon ange noir. To what do I owe the phone call?”

Moira smiled. “Checking in, I suppose. Do you need me this week?”

Adrian was silent for a moment. “Non, I don’t need you. But I have put it about that you’re available. Is there something I should know about?”

“Wait, you’re booking me clients already?”

“We did vay-yay about this, mon ange. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t actively in need of another Maîtresse.”

Moira shrugged and climbed the stairs to her apartment. “True. Well, fine, but nothing that requires me to be on my back for this week, at the very least.”

Adrian’s silence was deafening.

She sighed. “It’s nothing bad.”

“Mon ange noir.” Disapproval. She could hear it, it was so heavy.

She opened her door and winced. “It really isn’t. In fact, you’re the one who said I should do it.”

Adrian sighed. She could almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose as she shut the door and sat. “Ma chère, s’il vous plaît, put me out of my misery.”

A sharp knock on the door behind her made her turn. “Kara’s here, I’ll call you back.”

“Mon ange, don’t—”

Moira hung up the phone and opened the door. Kara stood there with her arms folded. “You better have a good excuse.”

“I swear I do.”

“Hmph.” She came in and flopped on a chair. “Tell.”

Moira smiled and bit her lip. “Promise you won’t get mad?”

Kara’s eyes narrowed. “Should I be?”

“No, but you might still be.”

“Hmph. Better tell me so I can decide for myself. Come on, I’m dying to know now.”

Moira shrugged off her jacket. “I’ll need your help, I think.”

Kara stood, confused. “Wait, with what?”

Moira turned and started to lift her tank. “With this.”

Kara’s fingers pulled at the fabric. “I still don’t—holy fuck me to hell, Moira!”

Moira laughed and carefully pulled the tank over her head. “You’ll have to peel off the bandage. I’m sure it looks all blotchy and red now, but Moreau swears it’ll be fantastic when it’s done.”

Kara whistled, slowly removing the sterile bandage they’d covered her back in, and then moving Moira into the light. “It already looks fucking fantastic. Have you seen it?”

Moira shook her head. “I can feel every inch of it. Wasn’t ready to see it yet.”

“Well, come in your room and look in the mirror. God, Moira. I’m impressed. And pissed you didn’t tell me. You know I would’ve come with you!”

Moira laughed and followed Kara into her room. “I know. I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, I’m sure as hell surprised!” Kara grabbed the mirror off the wall above the dresser and continued into the bathroom. “Come here, because you need to see this. Did Moreau do this one, or did he have one of his boys do it?”

“I need you to wash it for me anyway. But no, his son Simon did it. Moreau said he didn’t have the strength in his wrists to do one this big anymore.”

Moira walked over to the sink and turned while Kara twisted on the tap. Wrapping a towel around Moira’s waist to catch the drips, she gently rubbed warm water and soap over the tattoo, and then rinsed it, finally patting it dry with the towel. Then Kara held up the mirror she’d grabbed and nudged Moira to look.

A giant angel’s wing stretched over the left side of her back from the top of her shoulder to the top of her buttocks, and out to the back of her arm.

“I love how he wrapped that last feather around that adorable little dimple at the top of your ass.”

Moira stared at the mirror. Moreau’s boy had outdone himself. He’d outlined the feathers, and had plans for reversing the shading so that the wing would be black with negative space for highlights, and he’d used every inch of space he could to make it as realistic as possible.

“When are you going in for the other?”

Kara’s question caught her by surprise. “I wasn’t, actually. I have to go back for the shading, but I wanted to get the outline done.”

Moira waited and was rewarded by dawning recognition. Kara laughed loudly and set the mirror down. Carefully, she wrapped Moira in a hug. “So now you’re a one-winged angel? I love it!”

Moira let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “You’re not mad?”

“Only that you didn’t let me come. But no. Not mad. Moira, it’s gorgeous.”

Moira grinned and walked out of the bathroom to look for a soft shirt and the ointment Moreau had given her. “I’m glad. An hour in, I was having serious doubts.”

“Exactly why you should’ve let me come!”

“Well, I wanted to surprise you!” She handed Kara the jar of ointment. “Rub that in for me?” She winced as Kara did. “You don’t think Adrian will be upset, do you?”

“No. He’ll be annoyed you didn’t tell him first, but he won’t be upset. Let him stew.”

Hesitating, Moira ran a finger up Kara’s arm. “Do you want to stay? We can order in.”

Kara smiled and lay down on her back so she was looking up at Moira. “Sounds excellent.”

“And you’re sure it looks okay?”

Kara reached up to caress Moira’s cheek. “It looks fabulous. I told you that you’d look totally fuckhot with wings, and I was right.”

Moira smiled and covered Kara’s hand with her own. “Even with only one?”

“Even more with only the one.”

Moira leaned down and kissed Kara’s cheek. At least, she meant to. But Kara turned so that their mouths met instead, and what started as a chaste kiss quickly became something more, until Moira broke away with a gasp.

“Fuck. I need food if we’re going to do this.”

Kara laughed. “Sorry. I told you it was fuckhot.”

Moira leveled a hungry look at her. “I’m getting that. But I’ve also been sitting in a chair for five hours, and I’m starving.” She stood up and slapped Kara’s ass. “Food first, play later.”

Kara yelped and laughed. “Yes, Mistress.”