French Kiss (Decadence Nights Book 2)

by Maddie Taylor

  Said in a low, sensual tone, it was enough to have her moving toward him, even though she only understood half of his command. Deducing it was ‘come here’ when he extended his hand, palm up in the universally recognized gesture, she filed the French words away for future reference, knowing it would be used again if they continued in this fashion. And regardless of her protests upon their first meeting, she was beginning to hope that they would. She was also starting to feel more at ease with him, despite his warning not to get too comfortable. One fantastic orgasm, a few gifts and some spectacular dancing shouldn’t have made her feel so trusting, but she did. Perhaps it was because she’d been alone for so long, starved for attention and denying herself. But that alone smacked of desperation and should have set off alarms in her brain, which it didn’t.

  Arriving in front of him, she stopped breathing, as without preliminaries, he pulled her dress off her shoulders and down her front, releasing it past her hips and allowing it drop to her ankles. Left bare to his avid gaze, a shiver rushed over her from the chill in the room. At least that’s what she told herself, but her dom for the evening knew better. Raising a hand, he outstretched a long finger and circled the taut nipple of one breast.

  “You appear more than ready to play, chérie.” Returning her prior words to her, he captured her other nipple, and pinched both lightly. “No physical problems I need to know about?”

  “No.”

  “Joint or flexibility issues?”

  “Um, I broke my left wrist about ten years ago in a fall, but no lingering effects.”

  “Good, you will inform me if you have excessive strain on your joints, tingling sensations, or if anything causes unintentional discomfort or goes numb. Bad pain is not what we’re about, oui?”

  “Oui,” she parroted robotically, then blinked and quickly corrected herself, feeling silly. “Uh, I meant to say, yes.”

  “I’ll have you fluent en français before you know it,” he teased with a grin while tugging on both nipples. “Your safewords are what, Mari?”

  “Red for stop. Yellow if I need a break or it’s getting too intense.”

  “I expect you to use them if you need to.”

  “What are you planning?”

  His eyes shot to hers, his fingers tightening pointedly on the taut peaks. She leaned toward him instinctively to ease the ache, sucking in a breath as he gave them both a quick twist without reducing the pressure, which sent a jolt of need shooting lightning quick from her nipples to her clit.

  “Any plans I should have for you, petite, will be unveiled to you in due time, in my time. Is that clear?”

  She gasped as he twisted both tips, not viciously, but slowly, while pulling her nipples farther away from her chest, enough to make his point. “Yes, sir,” she cried, her body trembling. “I’m sorry.”

  “Mmm,” he hummed in acknowledgement, adding, “you’ll learn my preferences soon enough.” But his grip didn’t lessen just yet. In truth, it intensified as he pulled up on her distended nipples, lifting them, adding the weight of her full breasts to the pressure, the whole while watching her reaction intently. Moisture built between her lips, both sets, as her mouth watered and her pussy flooded in anticipation of what was to come.

  “Lace your fingers behind your head and part your legs.”

  The movement of her body, especially her arms as she clasped her fingers behind her neck increased the intensity of Arturo’s hold, which remained unabated throughout. As did his assessing gaze, he was testing her already. Once she was posed as he’d ordered, the pressure increased even more.

  Her breath was shallow as she took in air against the pain. At last, he let her loose, allowing her breasts to fall back into their natural position. Her hands twitched, wanting to soothe her tender flesh, to rub away the prickling sensation at the same time she yearned to pick up where he’d left off and pinch the tips hard, as he’d done in order to extend the delicious pain until she found satisfaction. But that would be very unwise, so she controlled her reaction.

  A slight smile tipped up one side of his mouth as he went back to making slow circles with the tip of one finger. Lazily, he watched her, particularly the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

  “I’m very pleased you like nipple play. I am quite partial to it as well,” lightly his fingernail scraped across the tender peaks, “especially pretty pink ones that turn berry red. You’ve used clamps?”

  “Yes.”

  “Vises?”

  “Once.”

  “Breast floggers and whips, canes, needles?”

  She flinched. “Not needles. That is a hard limit for me, as is any sort of blood play or body modification.”

  “No piercings, then?”

  “Except for my ears, no. I’m sorry if that disappoints you.”

  “In this, I agree with you. Feminine beauty should not be marred by holes or scars from piercings, or tattoos. I am a naturalist in that way, not that I don’t enjoy adorning certain parts with jewelry from time to time. I have a set a lariat loops that will look stunning on you. They also deliver a wonderful bite, but that’s for another time.” He changed the angle of his caress, scraping his short nails in slow circles around the edge of the ruched areolas. “And since you are not averse to the whips and canes, I won’t mind turning this pretty white skin pink or your nipples to a tempting berry red. Indeed, I look forward to tormenting these beauties at my leisure.”

  He lowered one hand to her mound, keeping up the slow, teasing nipple play with the other. His fingers combed slowly through the neatly trimmed triangle of dark red hair she’d left in front before sliding in between her parted thighs, gliding over the smooth lips that she’d shaved bare in preparation for tonight.

  “Mmm, I like this combination, smooth as silk in between yet a little thatch of auburn up top to play with.” He leaned in, grazing his lips along her jaw until he reached her ear. “Let’s me know I’m with a woman.” Two fingers dipped into her slit, running over her achy clit and further back, seeking her drenched opening.

  “Mon dieu, Mari, you’re hot, snug, and very, very wet.” He emphasized each descriptive word with a slow, sensuous glide in and out. It was unnecessary for him to describe her pussy’s drenched state, as her slickness was audible with each unhurried penetration.

  Holding onto her composure this long hadn’t been easy. Now, it was next to impossible, especially when he sank his fingers in all the way up to the third knuckle, his thumb sweeping out to press against her clit as he did so. She swayed on legs that suddenly had the consistency of rubber, and as she thrust her hips forward seeking more, she lost her balance and had to use his wide chest for support.

  He withdrew much too soon for her, eliciting a disappointed whimper. Strong hands gripped her waist and stood her upright. Next, his mouth lowered and claimed hers in another smoldering kiss.

  “On the bed. I want you on your knees, hands behind your back, while I finish preparing. In fact, close your eyes as you wait, and visualize all of the wicked things I’m about to do to you.”

  Silence followed, and as if by his command, her imagination ran wild. At a sharp pang on her lower lip, she blinked. He’d bitten her, no more than a little nip, his tongue quickly soothing the sting away, nonetheless, it had startled her out of her sinful thoughts. Meeting his gaze that was still very near, she frowned in confusion.

  “Marilee, how do you answer your dom when he gives you a directive?”

  “Oh.” She’d forgotten again, which wasn’t like her, as well trained as she’d been. It had to be Arturo; he drove protocol clear out of her head.

  “Yes, oh. You have been quite remiss since you walked in the room. Something we have to address toute de suite, non?” In a quarter turn, he positioned her, bending her forward with a firm hand at the back of her neck, then his broad palm connected rapidly with her bare backside. Fast, staccato smacks, alternating first left then right, fell with commanding efficiency.

  Swiftly, she provided the requ
isite reply. “Yes, sir. I’m dreadfully sorry.”

  At least a dozen more scorching swats landed before he stopped and pulled her upright to face him once again.

  “You’re out of practice.” One hand curved around her heated behind as the fingers of the other returned to her breast. He gave her cheek a hard squeeze, which coincided with a delicious pinch and roll of her nipple. “My lash will help it all come back to you, should you err again.”

  The twin sensations, along with the thought of his lash or perhaps even his leather belt crisply striking her skin, excited her more than she wanted to show, but she failed in suppressing her groan, so her “Yes, sir” this time was nearly incoherent.

  “Tsk tsk,” he chided with a grin. “Threats of a strapping make you moan in anticipation. It appears I’ll have to come up with a less appealing and more creative brand of punishment, won’t I?”

  “Your lash will be sufficiently dire, I’m sure, sir.”

  “Doubtful.” He chuckled. “Up on the bed with you now.”

  After climbing on top of the burgundy and gold brocade spread, she knelt. With her hot cheeks resting on her heels, she clasped her hands low behind her back watching intently as he crossed the room to a heavy, burnished mahogany armoire with ironwork hinges and hand carved embellishments.

  “French gothic,” he murmured in approval as he paused in front of the gorgeous piece. “The detail of this room is amazing.”

  “Decadence is the perfect name, sir.”

  “Good girl. You remembered.” He glanced and caught her peeking. Instead of closing her eyes and pretending she’d obeyed, she froze, staring at the easy smile that played at the corners of his mouth and the sensual flame that sparked in his eyes as his gaze swept down her naked body. “Yet, you continue to be rather disobedient. Is this the norm for you?”

  “Um, no, not usually. But as you say, I’m out of practice and the scenes I usually do are in the main room. They happen fast, I’m restrained, usually flogged, and then, well…” She shrugged, too mortified to disclose she was such a quick, easy lay.

  “How utterly disappointing for you. Good thing you have me now. Even with punishment, you’ll never get a drive-by spank-and-fuck from me.” He shook his head in disgust and muttered something in rapid French that ended with something like imbéciles.

  “Pardon, ma chérie, but these so-called doms you’ve been associating with are nothing short of ham-handed, precipitous fools. I’m about to change all of that.” When his eyes met hers once again, he raised his forefinger and rotated it slowly. “I told you to close your eyes for a reason.” He waited with a dark brow arched until she had turned to face the headboard, perched on her knees, with hands behind her again, before continuing. “I don’t want to reveal all of my evil plans for you just yet.”

  His veiled threat had Mari shivering with anticipation.

  “Prone, I believe,” he ordered further, “with that rosy red derriere up in the air.”

  Stretched out flat on her stomach, her hips flexed to elevate her bottom, she almost turned at the sounds of doors creaking and drawers sliding in and out. Mari squinched her eyes shut, vowing to obey. He had been patient so far, but she didn’t know him well enough to predict when that would end or how creative Master Arturo could be with consequences beyond a spanking. The image of him wielding his bullwhip came to mind and sent of flood of wetness between her thighs.

  Several moments passed with more creaking and crackling of plastic wrapping. Next there was a brief silence, before the bed shifted. The warmth of his fingers brushed her skin, followed by something cool wrapping around her arm, wrist to bicep. The other arm received the same treatment before he moved them both to the center of her back. What followed was a series of jerks and tugs in progression from top to bottom as he laced her into what could only be an arm binder. She’d never worn one before, but had seen them in a bondage catalog that Derek used to get.

  Derek...

  Shaking off the random memory, she warned herself not to go there.

  When the yanking and tugging stopped, her arms were completely immobilized. Arturo leaned forward, placed a kiss on her shoulder, then promptly flipped her up and over, and laid her on her back. The binder forced her spine to arch, which pushed her full breasts upward to point lewdly at the canopy.

  “Magnifique!” he murmured as his hands curled around each breast and pushed them together, plumping them up further. His mouth opened wide over first one nipple, then the other, sucking hungrily. Before he released each one, she felt the rasp of his teeth dragging over the sensitive, pliant flesh, until he reached the tip. Then he clamped down, enough to cause a sharp nip of pain that lasted for the briefest moment before his tongue laved away the residual sting.

  She groaned. So good. Rough enough to set her heart pumping, yet so sensual it caused a rush of liquid heat to her needy pussy. Mari took a shuddering breath, never wanting the sweet torment to end, but all too soon he raised his head. His eyes lingered on the hard, wetness of her nipples a moment, before he rocked forward and took her mouth as ravenously. The next instant he was moving off and around the end of the bed.

  Strong fingers clasped her ankles and flipped her again, then proceeded to drag her slowly down the bed, her tender nipples feeling every inch of the textured, brocade bedspread. When her feet came to the end, he separated her legs about two feet apart and guided her ankles into some kind of rigid frame.

  “You may look now.”

  Tipping her chin and twisting her neck, she glanced at her feet, her mouth gaping wide as he lowered the upper half of the two-piece footboard, locking her ankles in two of the four holes carved into the wood. No wonder she hadn’t seen the stocks and other torture devices; they were built into the bed.

  “A unique sort of pillory, don’t you agree?” answering her unvoiced question. “For use either lying on the bed as you are, or standing at the foot. The latter for a much more recalcitrant slave, one who has displeased her dom and is in need of a sound beating, perhaps. Or maybe solely because the master is in the mood to give a good thrashing.” As he explained, he once again moved onto the bed. “I have an even more unconventional use for it in mind.”

  Kneeling at her side, he slid one arm beneath her, supporting her just below her breasts. With his other hand at the back of her neck, he drew her up to her knees, her lower legs and feet trapped in position by the pillory. He then proceeded to bend her backward over her restrained legs until she was folded like a human taco shell, looking up into his watchful face. With her arms restrained, she was at his mercy, the extreme position immobilizing her. But he wasn’t done. Cradling her at the neck and shoulders, he reached up and pulled a chain down from the overhead bed frame. Attached to it was a thickly padded sling that he slipped over her head and behind her neck.

  Once it was in place, his hands left her and he moved away leaving her in a semi-suspended position. Too afraid to so much as breathe in her precarious pose, let alone turn her head, she watched from the corner of her eye as he stood beside the bed, his arms folded over his chest, studying her with a devilish smile gracing his extremely handsome face. For a long time, he stood stock-still, only his eyes moving in a slow body scan, touching upon every exposed inch of her, clearly admiring his handiwork.

  She was completely at his mercy, her breasts up thrust and there for the taking. Her belly, hips and thighs quivering and vulnerable to a lash or the whips he liked to employ, and with her knees in the wide spread position, she could do nothing to prevent whatever he wanted to do to her.

  Taking a deep breath to calm her rapidly building excitement, the minimal rise and fall of her rib cage caused her to sway. A subtle movement overhead caught her attention.

  Above her, a woman stared down at her. The realization that is was her own reflection the next second made her gasp. How had she missed the huge mirror mounted above the bed? As she blinked up at her image the answer came to her—when the harsh lights dimmed, thanks to Arturo.


  Although the face was familiar, it was hard to believe that it was her naked body twisted into the odd, human pretzel pose. And that she was blatantly aroused as was evident from the way her juices glistened on her splayed pussy lips and inner thighs. Further, the hard points of her nipples, still red from his attention, strained toward the ceiling, seeming to reach for their own reflection. The picture was intensely provocative, the bondage severe and the carnality of it all stirred her immensely.

  “Comfortable?” Master Arturo inquired softly.

  The question was ridiculous, really, particularly since he had been the one to bind her in one of the most contorted positions she’d ever been twisted into in her life.

  Her eyes shifted to his. “You’re joking, right?”

  He leaned down, replacing the fascinating yet disturbing display with his handsome face, his lips hovering a half inch over hers. “Let me rephrase. Is anything hurting you, Mari?”

  She considered that a moment. Her knees and shoulders were bent to their limit, but not beyond. “No, sir.”

  “Are you afraid?”

  Another pause. “A little, sir.”

  “Just a little?”

  “Okay, a lot.” Then she reconsidered. “No. It’s more like apprehension, than fear.”

  “Which adds to the experience, but don’t ever be truly afraid of me, petite. I plan on taking excellent care of you.”

  Not allowing time for a response, his lips descended, his tongue delving inside and beginning a scintillating exploration of every nook and cranny of her mouth. When she was breathless and responding with trembling eagerness beneath him, he lifted his head.

  “You told me you enjoyed bondage, spanking and moderate pain. I’m going to test you, Mari, as any good dom would. You have your safewords, but I want you to trust me to keep you from falling, just as you did on the dance floor. If you do, great pleasure awaits us both, and in the end, although our journey is a bit different than most, that’s all this is about. Oui?”