The Temptress

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The Temptress Page 10

by C. J. Fallowfield


  ‘These are merely to restrain your hands,’ he replied, cocking his head as he frowned, sensing my fear.

  ‘The shop was all out of fluffy pink handcuffs?’ I shot back.

  ‘I do not do pink, or fluffy. I am a man who likes to fuck, Lulu. Who takes what he wants, excels at what he does and never fails to live up to his promises, does this sound like a man who does “fluffy” to you?’

  ‘No,’ I gulped, noticing something black tucked into the side of his towel as well.

  ‘Do this for me and I promise, the rewards will be well worth it.’

  ‘And if I refuse?’ I asked, not for a second taking my eyes off Dexter, the possible serial killer, standing right in front of me.

  ‘I call you a taxi and we say goodbye now. This is not what I want. I want you to say yes, to give me your time and your body, so that I can give you so much more in return. If you thought you’d just experienced intense, you underestimate my skills.’ He stood perfectly still, observing me as my heart continued to beat so loudly I was sure he could hear it. I looked into his eyes, into those eyes that had spoken to me so many times today without words and I started to come down from my fight or flight panicked mode. Something about him spoke to my very nature, told me that he wouldn’t hurt me, that everything he’d said since I met him last night had been the truth. I’d told myself this morning that I was going to make this my once in a lifetime event, the thing I could look back on forever and think I did that, I lived, well here was my chance. I lifted my wrists in front of me, offering them to him.

  ‘Do it,’ I ordered. He hesitated for a moment as his eyes roved my face, looking for any reservations, then smiled when he found none.

  ‘You will remember two words for me, words you will use if you are in anyway afraid, overloaded with pleasure, or simply need a break. I chose for you the words “amber” for when you feel you need to warn me that you are reaching your limits for pleasure or stamina and “black” for when you need me to cease all activity immediately. I promise you Lulu, you say the word black and I will stop and release you without hesitation. Repeat for me.’

  ‘Amber is a warning, black is an instruction to cease.’

  ‘I need you to promise to use them.’

  ‘I promise, if you promise to heed them,’ I replied with a raised eyebrow, wondering if I should be turned on by this right now.

  ‘I promise. I may “use women” as you so succinctly phrased it earlier, but I don’t abuse them. I am not only a Frenchman, but I am Luc, a renowned lover of women,’ he replied, with a twinkle in his eye.

  ‘Whatever Romeo, are we doing this or what, as I could be out dancing and drinking right now, flirting with some nice uncomplicated Frenchman,’ I retorted. His face changed in an instant, from playful to serious and pissed off. So, he was possessive too. I was learning more about him without him meaning for me to. I licked my dry lower lip as he strode forward and lifted the chain over his neck, depositing it by my knees, the clunking noise as it slithered down weirdly arousing. He quickly took one end of it and worked it like a sailor would a rope, somehow securing my one wrist tightly enough that it wouldn’t slip off, but not so tight that I found it painful. He repeated the gesture on my right hand and I could see his chest heaving, hear the noise of his heavy breathing as he focussed on what he was doing. Even without the protrusion of his towel it was clear he was turned on. He tugged at the black item on his hip and lifted it to my face, covering my eyes as he reached forward and secured it behind my head, plunging me into darkness. It was my turn to breathe fast.

  ‘What are your words, Lulu,’ he whispered against my lips.

  ‘Amber or black,’ I repeated, gulping as I felt him move and heard the chain rattling again. The bed suddenly dipped and I felt my restraints tugging at my wrists as they were lifted right above my head, stretching my upper body, pushing my shoulders back and thrusting my breasts forward as I kneeled on the bed. I heard a whirring noise, a clunk and then another stretch as I was lifted up a little higher, at full stretch, then the whirring suddenly stopped. I was at the point of hyperventilation and the words “Black” were right on the edge of my lips, when I suddenly squealed as his lips enveloped one of my nipples and sucked hard. ‘O God,’ I cried, as he coaxed it to a stiff point while his fingers worked on the other one.

  ‘Your breasts are magnifique,’ he mumbled, between forceful sucks and gentle bites. I whimpered as a set of fingertips skimmed down my stomach, lightly brushing over my clit, parting my puffy flesh as they homed straight on my clenching entrance and thrust upwards, spearing me as he moved them skilfully in and out, raking over my g-spot again and again. My thighs started to tremble as my mouth juddered, pleasure saturating my system. Seriously, was there anything this man didn’t do well? He was incredible. ‘You come for me again, you come so easily,’ he crowed, before his thumb joined in the attack on my body, circling my clit forcefully. The chains jangled as I shook, fighting the powerful orgasm that was about to ravage my system, but he had me right where he wanted me, I had no way of pushing him away, neither could I pull away, I had no choice but to let it hit me head on like a juggernaut and screamed at the top of my lungs as my muscles clamped around his fingers, my arousal soaking them. ‘Mon Dieu, to have days with you would bring me much happiness,’ he groaned as his fingers suddenly slid out of me and I heard the unmistakable sound of him sucking them.

  I slumped slightly, held up by my wrists and the strength of my thigh muscles, as I heard his bare feet walking away. I hadn’t recovered by the time he returned and lost track of time, and orgasms, as he spanked me with his hand and some kind of large flat implement, used ice, wax and a feather on my nipples and skin, kissing me forcefully between his weapons of choice, his guttural grunts telling me exactly what this was doing to him too. I was tired, but I still craved more, the way he made my mind and body feel was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. I cried out as something sharp pinched each nipple, it was biting and verging on painful, but when he inserted one of his long fingers inside me, then made me suck it clean, I could tell how much what he was doing was turning me on. I felt something ticklish between my thighs and gasped as I heard the whirring noise again and the pull on my wrists eased, as I was lowered down bit by bit, right until my sex smothered his mouth.

  ‘Luc,’ I moaned. I was sitting on him, he was between my legs with my pussy covering his mouth. His fingers reached up to grip my hips as I tried to lift myself off him. What if I suffocated him? I could be left hanging here for days, straddling his face! He firmly pulled me back down, not that I had the strength to fight him and hold myself up, I’d never had this many orgasms in a month before, let alone a night. I sobbed as he went to work, but found my hips involuntarily rocking myself over his face, his loud groans signalling his approval. Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I was hit with a wave of orgasms, one after another, again and again, crashing down, eroding all that I was, until I sobbed the word “amber” not sure I could take anymore. I immediately heard the noise and felt myself lifting up, before being lowered again, to find he was no longer between my thighs. My arms suddenly felt heavy as they dropped and I slumped back on the bed, my legs still tucked up under me. Luc quickly lifted me up and lay me flat on my back, his fingers rapidly undoing the chains around my wrists and kissing them.

  ‘Are you ok, Lulu?’ came his concerned voice, as the covering on my eyes was removed. I groaned my response as I tried to open my eyes. I felt his lips on my forehead, moving across every inch of skin, down to my cheeks and the corners of my mouth. ‘You have no idea how much that turned me on. To hear your cries of pleasure, to see you so open to experimentation, your beautiful body on display for me as you gave me your trust and your pleasure,’ he groaned. I squealed and my eyes shot open as blood painfully rushed back to my nipples as he removed what looked like a pair of nipple clamps. ‘Tell me if it’s too much, but I need you, I want so badly to sink into you and fill you again. I promise, after watching
you come so many times, I am primed for release, my orgasm control will fail me for the first time in my life,’ he stated earnestly as he gazed down at me.

  I was spent, but he’d just spent hours looking after me, could I really say thanks, but dream on? I nodded and gasped as he was inside me within seconds, his hands finding mine, his fingers weaving between them as he held them up on the pillow and he moved inside me. This was different to earlier, he wasn’t fucking me, he seemed to be … making love to me? Or his version of making love at least, this was my ex Thomas’s version of a hard fuck. I almost giggled at the thought of how pitiful it had been, but at the time I’d thought it was ok, not great but ok. Luc though, he was in a whole other league.

  ‘No,’ I mewled as I felt another climax forming, he was going to kill me with orgasms.

  ‘Please, ma belle, once more, come with me, one more time,’ he begged, as if I had any choice when my body reacted so well to his. Our mutual climax was earth shaking as I sobbed his name. He quickly rolled onto his side, hooking a leg over mine as he snaked his arms around me, whispering in French as he planted kisses all over my hair and I lost the fight to stay conscious.

  I’d no idea what time it was when I felt his lips on my neck and his hands on my body again, yet somehow my body decided it had a small amount of strength left in it, as he gently restrained my throat with one hand, his other holding my hair as he took me from behind, then kissed me until I fell asleep in his arms again, lulled by his soft voice telling me what he wanted to do to me in the morning when we woke up.

  I blinked at the bright light streaming through one of the skylights, which was angling the beam right into my eyes. I went to move and groaned, I ached all over. I turned my head inside and inhaled sharply to see the beautiful face of Luc on the pillow next to me, fast asleep with an arm slung over his eyes. His face was covered in sexy stubble and he reeked of sex. I reeked of sex. I covered my face, mortified at my behaviour last night. Not only had I come home with him, to God knows where, I’d let him tie me up, fuck me twice without protection and I’d ridden his face like some … I couldn’t think of a word to sum up how I felt, but that word was not appropriate for the Lulu McQueen from England, who was a lady at all times during sex. I carefully sat up and checked my watch, it was already nine-thirty. Shit! We were supposed to be checking out of our room at eleven and going shopping for the day and I had no idea how far I was from the hotel and I needed a shower, desperately. I looked back at Luc, grimacing to see that the sheet was barely covering his gorgeous body. I had two choices, flee before he woke up and spare myself the embarrassment of potentially being asked to leave now he was done with me, or showering and risking the humiliation by waking him.

  I decided on option one and slid out of bed, tiptoeing across the room with a heavy heart. Even if there was a fraction of a chance of him liking me as much as I liked him, he lived in Paris and I lived in London. I classed someone living forty minutes from me as a long distance. London to Paris wasn’t an ideal relationship. Relationship?! Who was I kidding, this was a fling, a Parisian affair to break the monotony of my tired and non-existent personal life. But I liked him, I more than liked him. I screwed up my face as I pulled on my jeans. Going commando wasn’t my cup of tea, definitely not when I was slick and full of French come. I made short work of putting on the rest of my clothes, but left the hat, scarf and gloves on the chaise longue. I wouldn’t feel right taking them. I had his business card back at the hotel, maybe I just needed a bit of space to rationalise this in my head, to accept that I was just another fuck to him. Even if I was still thinking about him in a few weeks, I could ring him, the humiliation of being rejected over the phone wouldn’t sting nearly as badly as in person. Maybe the long distance thing could work, other people made it work. I mentally slapped myself, I was being ridiculous, fantasising about a relationship with a man who’d made it more than clear he didn’t do them. I picked up my boots and walked quietly to the front door, slipping out with one last look at him before I carefully pulled it behind me and ran for the stairs, too impatient to wait for the lift. I ran down all of the flights and pulled on my boots as I reached the bottom, then fled out of the entrance door and into a cobbled street. I had no idea where I was, all I knew was I needed Coco.

  I almost screamed for joy after running for ages towards the sound of traffic, to find myself on a busy road and able to flag down a taxi. I jumped in and gave the name of the hotel as I slumped back into the seat, ignoring the pain of my blistered heel as the one in my chest expanded at the thought that I may never see him again, or hear those sultry, dirty words whispered in my ear and surprised myself by feeling tears rolling down my cheeks. I wiped them away and pulled my phone out of my jacket to see a load of missed calls and texts from Coco. How had I slept through those? Probably the ten or more orgasms you had last night, I reminded myself. I ignored all the messages and just texted her directly.

  I’m on my way back, please tell me I have time for a shower, I need one desperately.

  Thank God, I was starting to get worried about you. You had until ten-thirty before I officially started panicking. I’ll pack for you, if you get here fast you may just have time to freshen up. Phoebe’s itching to go shopping and we have another night in Paris. We got a call early this morning to say the flight was overbooked and would we accept a flight in the morning and a night in The Ritz Paris instead, naturally we bit their hand off. Can’t wait to hear about your hot night. I’m so jealous. Hurry xx

  I’ll need my white trousers from Friday night left out, with my black jumper please and my period knickers, sigh. I can see the tower, I don’t think I’m too far away xx

  We checked into the room at The Ritz later that afternoon and I sank onto the bed with a groan. I was exhausted and ached all over and we hadn’t even done half of the shopping we’d intended to do. Phoebe was feeling sick from another night of too much alcohol, I was slowing everyone down limping and Coco was too distracted wanting every detail of my night with Luc, which I actually found quite painful to recount. The feel of his lips, hands and cock, the sound of his accent and breathing, the scent of his skin, it was all too fresh in my mind. I was kicking myself for fleeing. Coco had almost kicked me as well, insisting his actions weren’t of a man who would have turfed me out the minute he woke up, but I bet lots of women in his bed hadn’t expected a reaction like that either. I pinched the top of my nose as my head and heart waged a war, with Coco and Phoebe nagging at me in the background to ring him.

  ‘Fine, you win. I’ll ring him, happy now?’ I bit, as I sat up and started laughing as they both grinned and did a little jig. ‘Where did you put his card? In my case?’ I asked Coco.

  ‘What card?’

  ‘His business card, the one I left by the phone.’

  ‘O shit,’ she uttered as her face fell. ‘I thought you’d taken it.’

  ‘No, that’s why I’m asking you where it is.’

  ‘O God, Lu, I’m so sorry, I was in a rush. I grabbed your moisturisers and then packed your stuff from the wardrobe. It must still have been on the bedside table.’

  ‘No,’ I groaned, as I looked at her feeling unbelievably upset. I’d finally plucked up the courage to ring him and now I didn’t have his number?

  ‘We can get a taxi to his place,’ she suggested.

  ‘I have no idea where it is,’ I sighed.

  ‘I’ll ring The Domville, maybe it’s still on the bedside table,’ she offered.

  ‘You’ve got no chance,’ said Phoebe with a shake of her head. ‘I asked if we could keep the room instead of moving here and they apologised and said it was already booked. The maid will have thrown it out and there’ll already be new people in there.’

  ‘O, Lulu,’ uttered Coco, as she saw tears rolling down my cheeks. ‘You really liked this guy, didn’t you?’

  ‘I think he could have been the one,’ I nodded, as my bottom lip wobbled and she quickly came to wrap her arms around me, as I started to sob on
her shoulder.

  Mr. Le Grand

  Lulu

  The Present

  ‘Wow, you look amazing, Miss McQueen,’ whistled Mike, as I walked into his basement workshop.

  ‘Thank you, but tonight we’re back to my field name, Isabelle.’

  ‘Isabelle, got it,’ he nodded, as he pulled on his suit jacket lapels, obviously uncomfortable not to be in his jeans or coveralls. He held the door open for me to get into the Merc. I waited until we set off to talk to him.

  ‘Have you got this?’ I asked, concerned at his lack of field experience. ‘You’ll need to be on the lookout for my signal when I’ve swiped the room card, head up to his suite, plant the recording devices, preferably trained on the bed, the lounge area and the shower. If he has a laptop up there, use the USB device from Henry to hack the password if it’s encrypted and copy the files. It will load software that he’ll be unaware of, that means that we can track his email and monitor any documents or photos he uses. The same with his mobile, if he leaves it up there. When you give me back the card, if he has his mobile on him, I’ll get that for you as well, but you’ll have to do that in the bar and return it to me fast, just in case.’

  ‘Got it,’ he confirmed, though his voice didn’t seem that confident.

  ‘You’ve studied the schematics for where all the cameras are in the hotel, from the bar to his suite?’ I asked, not wanting to leave anything to chance.

  ‘Yes, Henry went over and over it, but he’s offered to stay back in op-tech to monitor us. He’ll talk me through it and warn me if anything goes wrong and Mr. Le Grand prepares to return to his suite while I’m in there.’

  ‘Great, as soon as we pull up, earpieces in and we’ll do a check, make sure we can hear each other and Henry too, ok?’

  ‘Got it, Miss McQueen.’

  ‘Isabelle,’ I reminded him with a sigh. This is why I hated last minute jobs. There was so much potential for something to go wrong. Mike pulled up into the hotel car park and Henry assured us that our communication devices were working fine. I checked my watch, we were late, just after seven-thirty, which meant if he was as regimented as his wife said, he should be at the bar already. ‘Henry, has no email come through from Ian or his intern with the photo of the mark?’

 

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