French Connection Vol. 2

by M. S. Parker

  I mulled over the question as we mingled, meeting others who would be involved in the club. There were politicians who would be in charge of permits. Members of boards who approved zoning requirements. The owner of the construction company Vincent had on stand-by. The head of security and a manager Vincent was bringing over from another club. Each one was charming and pleasant. They were all enthused about working on the project and had a thorough knowledge of what their part would be.

  Before I knew it, Carrie and I were dancing to a slow song and a couple of hours had passed. The words were in French, so I knew Carrie didn't understand them, but they were perfect for us, talking about lovers finding each other through insurmountable odds.

  “All right,” Carrie said suddenly. “I'm convinced.”

  “Convinced about what?” I asked, wondering if I'd missed something while I'd been listening to the song lyrics.

  “Vincent,” she answered. “He seems like a genuinely talented businessman with a lot of important connections. He knows what he's doing and the obstacles he's going to have to face.”

  “So you trust him?” I asked, trying to hide my surprise.

  She made a thoughtful face. “I trust that you trust him,” she said. “I admit that my vision isn't exactly unbiased here, so I'm trusting what you say.”

  I smiled and pulled her closer. She rested her head on my shoulder and slipped her arms underneath my jacket. Her fingers traced patterns on my back as we danced.

  As the song faded into another, she spoke, “How many dances do you think we'll have to do before we can make an escape? Because I have a totally hot boyfriend I can't wait to get back to my room so I can tear off his clothes.”

  I immediately stopped dancing and started scanning the crowd for Vincent to tell him goodnight.

  Chapter 5

  Carrie

  The ride back to the hotel and then up to the room was excruciating. Part of it was because I wanted to do exactly what I'd said to Gavin. Tear his clothes off, ride him like a pony...

  But I knew that would have to wait. I'd told him I would trust him about Vincent and I meant it. Part of what had been missing in our relationship was that element of trust. I hadn't even realized it until those women showed up in our room. If I'd truly trusted him, I never would've needed to ask if he'd invited them. In that moment, however, I'd wondered if he'd planned it; if he decided to spice things up because he wasn't satisfied with what we had. I'd worried our sex life wasn't enough for him. That I hadn't known had told me our communication was in trouble, and I needed to fix it.

  When we stepped into our room, I kicked off my shoes and walked toward the love-seat. I grew warm at the memory of what had happened here this morning, but reminded myself that there would be time for that later. This was more important.

  I sat down in the chair instead and looked up to see Gavin approaching, a puzzled expression on his face. He draped his jacket over the arm of the love-seat and sat down, loosening his tie as he went.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked. “I thought you said you had a hot boyfriend whose clothes you wanted to tear off.”

  I smiled, but my heart wasn't in it. I had no clue how to broach this subject. Gavin had taught me a lot about things I never thought I'd want sexually, but we'd never covered this. So much had happened between us those first couple months that I sometimes forgot we hadn't gotten to do the normal “new couple” stuff where we slowly revealed things about ourselves. Instead, right away, it had been intense, personal stuff that most people waited at least a few weeks, maybe even months, to get into.

  “I wanted to talk to you,” I said. I folded my hands on my lap. “But I'm not really sure where to start.”

  He looked concerned and he reached out to cover my hands with his. “Just say it, babe. You're scaring me.”

  If only it was that simple, something I could blurt out in a single sentence. “It's about... sex.”

  Now he looked confused as well as concerned. “Sex?”

  I took a breath and reminded myself that I wasn't talking to some stranger. This was Gavin. The man I'd loved almost from the first time I'd seen him. The man who'd saved me, in more ways than one. He knew my body better than I knew it myself. We'd been through so much and had never turned away from each other. I'd trusted him with my heart and soul, with my body and mind. How could I say I loved him, trusted him, if I let this go?

  “When we first started sleeping together, you said there were things you wanted to teach me, things you wanted to do to me.” It was the memory of what he'd said rather than embarrassment that made my face flush.

  “Yes?” Gavin said the word slowly, more a question than a statement.

  “Why'd you stop?” The question was more blunt than I'd intended it to be, but at least I got it out there.

  “Why did I stop what?” He shook his head. “I don't understand what you're trying to say.”

  “Why don't you want to do those things to me anymore?” I looked down at our hands. “You once said you wanted to spank me. You tied me up. Teased me.”

  Gavin's hands tightened around mine.

  “You don't talk about any of that anymore. Didn't you like it? Was...” I forced myself to ask the question I'd hidden inside the darkest parts of me. “Was I not good at doing... that?”

  Gavin swore under his breath. He hooked his finger under my chin and raised my head so that our eyes met. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because you stopped. Stopped doing it. Stopped talking about it, telling me what you wanted to do.” I blinked at the sudden burn of tears. I hadn't realized until now that part of the reason I hadn't wanted to talk about this was because I was scared that I was the reason things had changed. Not because of work or things like that. Those were my fault. But rather I hadn't been what he wanted.

  Gavin's fingers tightened almost painfully on my chin. “Babe, that isn't it at all.”

  He kissed me, his lips hard against mine. The kiss was brief but fierce, sending electricity straight through me, right down to my toes. He released my chin but kept his gaze on me. His eyes were blazing.

  “After what happened with Howard.” A flash of anger crossed his features at the name. “I didn't think you'd want anything to do with that lifestyle. I assumed you'd always associate what he did with what I wanted to do.”

  I started to shake my head, wanting to protest, but he continued on without letting me say anything.

  “Every time I asked you to do something, I felt like I was forcing it on you, like you only agreed because you thought that's what I wanted.” He reached out and twisted a curl around his finger. “How could I claim to love you when I made you do things that bothered you? I could live without the bondage or any of the other stuff I used to be into. I couldn't – I can't – live without you.”

  A rush of relief went through me, so strong that it made my knees shaky.

  “Gavin, everything you did, I loved.” I pushed back his hair, letting my fingers linger. “I didn't ask you to teach me about your lifestyle, about the things you enjoyed because I felt like I had to.”

  I leaned forward to kiss him, my tongue tracing along his bottom lip before I bit down on the soft flesh. Gavin made a sound that made me instantly wet. His hands gripped my shoulders and I knew he wanted to pull me to him. Instead of letting him, however, I pulled back and he let me go. Before I gave over control, I needed to make sure he understood I was telling the truth.

  “I wanted you to teach me because I wanted to try new and different things,” I continued. “I still want that.”

  “Carrie,” he began.

  I held up a hand and he stopped. “You introduced me to this world I'd never known existed, and then, suddenly, I was back to my plain vanilla life.” I started to look away, but forced myself to meet his eyes. “Every time you touch me, I feel like I'm on fire, but lately, when we've had sex, it seems like there's this part missing. It was still great and I never faked coming, but it wasn't quite...”
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br />   “Satisfying,” he finished quietly. “I felt it too. There'd be glimpses of it, of what we used to have, but it wasn't the same.”

  “I think it was because we haven't been honest about what we want in the bedroom.” I allowed a half-smile. “Or the living room or the shower.”

  He smiled back, but I could see he was being cautious. “So what do we do? How do we fix this?”

  “We have to be honest with each other,” I said. “About everything.” I took his hand between both of mine. “I need you to tell me about the things you want, what you enjoy. Your fantasies.”

  I could see emotions warring on his face and I understood it now. He was fighting against his nature, against things he thought might scare me. One of the reasons I truly fell in love with him was his protective nature. That's who he was and I loved him for it, but he needed to accept that I meant every word.

  “The other day,” I said. “When I put my hands behind my back and you had to guide my mouth, did you like that?”

  Gavin's Adam apple bobbed and I felt his hand twitch between mine.

  “Did you hold back?” I asked. “Did you want to fuck my mouth harder? Deeper? See how far I could take you?”

  I saw him hesitate, but then he nodded.

  “But you didn't because you thought it would be going too far.”

  “I never want you to be uncomfortable or feel like I’m using you.” Gavin's voice was rough.

  “What if I want you to use me?” The question came out before I knew I was going to ask it.

  “Fuck,” Gavin muttered. “You can't say stuff like that, Carrie.”

  “Why not?” I pushed. “You once told me that the BDSM lifestyle isn't about pain or control. It's about trust.” I picked up his hand and placed it over my heart, my skin burning where it touched his. “I've trusted you with everything.”

  “And I trust you,” he replied.

  I shook my head. “Not with everything. You pulled this part of you away from me and hid it. I know you did it for a noble reason, but the why doesn't matter.” I slid his hand sideways and down until he was cupping my breast. “Trust me. Talk to me. Be that man again who teased me with all of the toys in Club Privé, promising to show me his world.”

  “It's not you I don't trust,” he said quietly. “It's me.”

  That stopped me for a moment. “What are you talking about?” Now it was my turn to be confused.

  “I don't want to hurt you or scare you,” he admitted. “What if something I want is going too far?”

  “Then I'll say stop, and you'll stop,” I said simply. “We have safe words for a reason. You told me that. Do you ever doubt you'd stop if I asked?”

  “No,” he answered immediately. “I'd never do anything like that.”

  “Then let me tell you a secret.” I gave him a moment to think about what my secret could be. “I liked it when you pulled my hair. When you were in control. I liked when you told me that I wasn't allowed to touch myself because my pleasure was yours.” His hand tightened around my breast. “And when you said you wanted to spank me, it made me wet.”

  “Carrie, babe, please.” There was an almost desperate note in his voice.

  “Just one thing,” I said. “Tell me one thing you like, one thing you want to do to me.”

  He took a breath. “I liked tying you up. Restraining you.” He looked down as if he didn't want to see my expression.

  I slid off the chair and down onto his knees. I caught a glimpse of surprise on his face as I reached for his belt and I knew what he was thinking. He was wrong though. I wasn't going to give him a blow-job. Well, not unless that's what he wanted me to do. I pulled his belt from its loops and then looked up at him. He looked puzzled now.

  I looped the belt and then held it out to him. He took it, but still wasn't understanding. Apparently, I needed to spell it out for him.

  I said three simple words and watched his expression change.

  “Tie me up.”

  Chapter 6

  Carrie

  When I told him to tie me up, I really thought he was going to argue, but I supposed denying himself for nearly a full year had whittled away at least some of that restraint.

  Then, he changed right before me. His expression. His eyes. Everything.

  “Hands,” he commanded.

  I held them out. I recognized that tone. I liked that tone.

  He slipped the circle of leather around my wrists and watched my face as he pulled it closed. I knew, at least for a little while, he'd need my reassurance that whatever he did was okay, so I nodded.

  “Stand.”

  It was more awkward than I'd realized to go from kneeling to standing with bound hands, but I managed to do it. He stood as well and took the end of the belt. He led me across the room and into the bedroom. He paused there for a moment, scanning the room as trying to decide his next more. When I saw his eyes light up, I knew he'd gotten an idea.

  The bed had four tall posts at each corner, almost like you'd see on a canopy bed, only this didn't have a canopy. I supposed they were some sort of decorative thing, but right now, it seemed that Gavin had another purpose in mind. He led me to a post at the base of the bed, stretched my arms above my head and then fiddled with the belt and the post. I couldn't see what he did, but when he stepped back, my hands were fastened high above my head.

  He walked from one side to the other, apparently checking to make sure whatever he'd done would hold. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him give a satisfied nod and begin to strip off his clothes. I tried to turn to watch, but he'd picked a place that was just out of my sightline, even if I craned my neck.

  His voice was low, caressing my skin. “A total denial of sight forces focus onto the other senses.”

  I heard him walking toward me but couldn't see where he was. No matter how much I trusted him, it was unnerving.

  “But, sometimes, allowing sight that is limited provides for an experience that is just as exciting.” He was right behind me now.

  I inhaled sharply as his hands skimmed over my bare back and then down over my hips. His touch was light, but that didn't change the charge that flowed across my skin. Then his hands slid beneath the sides of my dress, moving across my stomach and then up to my breasts.

  “Knowing that I'm here, just out of sight.” He cupped my breasts, the fabric of the dress straining against the intrusion. “That if I wasn't speaking, it could be any man behind you.”

  His thumbs flicked across the tips of my nipples before he pinched the sensitive flesh between thumb and finger. I moaned and he chuckled, that deep, sensual sound that always made my pussy throb. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed that laugh until I thought about how little I'd heard it recently.

  “Lucky for you,” he said. “I don't share.” He pulled his hands from under my dress and went back to my hips.

  I stared at the bed post, my breath coming faster, my pulse racing. Not being able to see him but knowing he was there, naked, hard and ready for me... it was a new form of torture. I wanted to touch him, taste him, but I couldn't do anything except feel. When his hands slipped beneath the hem of my dress, I instinctively parted my legs. I was wet and aching.

  “I know what you want,” he said. His fingers teased at the edge of my panties. “You want me to touch you.” He ran a finger along the crotch of my underwear. Hard enough to make me feel it, but too light to give me anything.

  “Yes, please,” I said.

  “Not yet.”

  He removed his hands and I felt his mouth press against my spine. I shivered as his lips traveled down my back, stopping at the place where my dress began before they moved up again. He ran his hands over my dress, teasing at my nipples through the thin fabric. His mouth pressed against my ear and I could feel the heat radiating through his body, his cock hard against my ass.

  “You asked me what I liked, what I wanted to do with you. Do you still want to know?”

  There was an edge to his words, but I could s
till hear an undercurrent of tension that didn't have anything to do with sex. He was testing the waters, trying to see if I was going to back out.

  “Tell me.” I pulled at my restraints, wanting to turn and look at him, meet his eyes and let him know that he could tell me anything.

  That was why he was talking now, I realized. He didn't want me looking at him when he said certain things. He was still afraid I'd react badly because of what had happened with Howard.

  “Tell me, Gavin,” I said.

  “With you like this,” he began. “I'd love to teach you what it feels like to have a flogger used on your back.”

  I remembered our conversation back when this had first begun, when he'd said something similar.

  “Not just on my back, right?” I asked. When I felt his body tense, I knew he'd remembered too. “You once said you could make me come with one. Is that what you'd like to do to me now?”

  “Very much.” Gavin's hands slid down the front of me and under my dress. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of my panties and then down between my legs. “Right here.” He pressed a finger against my clit and I moaned. “I'd love to have this all swollen and throbbing, then take it into my mouth, soothe it.”

  “Fuck.” I swallowed hard.

  “I want to claim every inch of you, Carrie. Fuck your mouth. Your ass. Leave no part of you untouched.” He nipped at my earlobe. “Push you further than you'd ever thought you'd want to go. Right now, I want to take you, hard and fast. Make it so you'll feel me for days.”

  “Do it,” I said. My voice was shaking, but not with fear. The desire inside me was hot and sharp, almost painful in its intensity. I didn't know if it was what Gavin was saying or that he sounded like his old self again. Whatever it was, I didn't want to lose it again.

  I felt a tug against my dress, then a tearing sound. I realized what he'd done even as the pieces of my dress fell forward, hanging loose from my shoulders. My jaw dropped. Had he seriously just ripped the seam of my dress? Before I could ask, he was yanking my panties down to my ankles and nudging my legs apart.