He could smell her arousal.
Greedy for a taste, he left her breast and trailed a line of wet kisses down her trembling abdomen. He parted her thighs and wedged his shoulders between them, lifting her legs up and over until they draped down his back. Spread wide for him, he took in the glistening pink of her cunt for a second before his hands cupped her ass and lifted her against the window pane. Without further hesitation, he dove into her fragrant heat, stroking in and along the entire length of her slit with his eager tongue.
As sweet as honey dripping from a comb, her flavor was intoxicating and he buried his face in her dewy softness, devouring her like a starving man. Around him, her body quivered and her fingers flexed almost painfully in his hair as she held him to her.
“Arturo,” she breathed, the throaty sound of his name, a siren’s song to his ears.
He spent several more moments laving and sucking her slickness, finding and teasing her clit with both tongue and teeth, until her cries became more urgent and rose in volume. Not wanting to end the festivities quite so quickly, he gave her another thorough slow lick before he pulled away. Her frustrated whimpers telling him it was just in time.
Removing her grip from his hair, he pressed her hands to the glass beside her hips. Holding her pinioned, he leaned back and surveyed her seductive beauty—from the wide spread heat of her fluid cunt, to her full quivering breasts with their hard pink tips, to her parted lips, red like the wine they’d consumed at dinner, and swollen from where she’d been biting back her cries of passion, to her half lidded blue eyes that looked down at him, needy and so trusting.
The nagging stab of guilt resurfaced, but he deliberately tamped it down, convinced they would prove her innocence and that in turn, he could earn her forgiveness after revealing who and what he was. He stood and lifted her in his arms, feeling a pang of regret in his chest as she buried her face in his neck, her arms clinging to him as he carried her to the bedroom. As he spread her out on his bed, and followed her down, he hoped against all hope that he would be proved right, and that the exoneration he expected to be forthcoming for both of them would include a renewal of the trust that was bound to be broken before she came back to him.
* * *
Drugged from his kisses and his skillful hands on her body, the question he posed as his weight pressed her into the soft mattress had her worrying her lips in indecision.
“Straight sex or kink? I leave the choice up to you so long as I have you, soon.”
She was ready, now. Primed enough by his tongue on her pussy that with one hard thrust he could have her screaming in climax. But she’d blown two scenes and she wanted to make it up to him.
“Kinky, sir. And I promise I won’t wimp out on you again.”
“Calling a safeword is not wimping out, Mari. I expect you to use it each and every time you need it. I don’t want you stoically enduring because you think it will please me. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” His mouth came down hard upon hers and she almost regretted her choice as her pussy clenched hungrily, yearning to be filled by him now. Then he moved away, and she called herself a fool. Arturo could probably go more than once. She could have had the best of both worlds, an appetizer with a vanilla orgasm, then long leisurely play as her entrée. Too late, he reached across her to his nightstand and a moment later returned with cuffs. It appeared kink had already been on the menu for this evening.
Mari tried and failed to fight a frown of disappointment, wondering who had been buckled into those restraints before her.
“No one has been to my suite before you. I put these here earlier, in the event you chose to come here tonight.”
“How did you know what I was thinking?”
“Your furrowed brow and pretty pout said it all, ma petite.”
Purposefully smoothing her features, and clearly failing as noted by his soft laugh, she gave him a disgruntled look. “And if I’d chosen my house or the back of my shop?”
He grinned. “The latter must definitely be explored, but in either case, my club bag is in my trunk.”
Her brows shot up, before a gentle laugh floated up from her throat, not at all surprised that he was so well prepared. “I don’t suppose you were an eagle scout as a boy growing up in France?”
“No merit badges in my history, sorry. I learned my preparedness skills serving a rotation in the Royal Navy where I also became quite proficient with knots.” He took her cuffed wrists and linked them, then raised them over her head and tied them with the rope that was already affixed to the headboard. When he was done, he sat back on his heels. “A perfectly executed mooring hitch.” He captured her chin in his hand, rubbing his thumb across her lower lip lightly. “It will keep you where I put you, but with a single tug I can have you free if I want, or need to.”
“Mmm, you would have made an excellent eagle scout, sir. And I imagine you would have looked cute in your short pants and neckerchief. A pity.”
“Is that sass I hear?” He reached back in the drawer. “Because I also stashed a few other things I thought might be needed to curtail the naughty streak I’m beginning to get glimpses of.”
He then produced a ball gag, a short flogger with very few falls, and another made of a bunch of loops. “I chose all of these with the neighbors in mind. We wouldn’t want our play interrupted by the police.” He met her eyes. “You are familiar, non?”
She shook her head. “No, sir, I’m not.”
“Mmm, then let me educate you.” He held up the gag. “This you’ve seen, surely.”
“I was referring to the floggers. I’ve never…”
“I’m surprised. I heard the loopy Johnny was quite popular in the States.” He shrugged. “These loops are made of rubber which will sting a lot, but it’s quiet, very suitable for hotel play, I’m told.”
He took up the short flogger with the twelve-inch-long red lashes next. “This is a martinet, which dates back to Louis XIV times and a rather stern general who was known as a strict disciplinarian. Maybe I’m the sentimental sort because of the history, but it is my favorite flogger by far. This is also on the more severe end of the spectrum because the falls are square, not the flat strips you’re probably more used to. This gives it a stronger bite that I know you will enjoy. Either way, you’ll become accustomed to its sting, since I’m partial to it, unless the Johnny shows me its superiority.”
She swallowed as he lightly brushed the tails of the martinet across her breasts and down her belly. With his free hand, he separated her thighs exposing the moisture that had gathered there. She could feel the cool waft of the air conditioning teasing her wet skin. Softly, he slapped the tips in a teasing caress against her pussy lips.
“I can see you like the toys I’ve chosen, chérie. I’ll probably enjoy these even more than you, but don’t fret, I selected something special just for you.” Again, he returned to the drawer and pulled out a vibrator, or so she thought at first, but on second glance, she wasn’t so sure.
“This little gem was recommended by one of the mistresses at the club. Called the triple threat, as you can see it has a vibe for your clit and both holes. Mistress Lorraine says it far outperforms the rabbit and if you don’t come screaming at least four times consecutively, I should demand a replacement because mine is obviously defective.”
“Four,” she breathed, her eyes wide.
“Yes, four,” he repeated with a grin, “and that doesn’t include the others that I will induce unassisted.” Her eyes shot to the purple, three-pronged toy as he switched it on, fixating on the long phallic shaped piece in the center that began to gyrate in concentric circles. Another click and the petals in front began fluttering fast just like the clit stimulator on the rabbit she had at home. Neither was unusual, or threatening as the name implied until she considered the third vibe. It was longer than the petals, but not quite as lengthy or thick as the center prong, and it was ribbed, resembling anal beads. All three inside her at on
ce, pulsating and whirling away would shoot her straight to the stratosphere, and knowing sadists as she did, he would undoubtedly forbid her from coming, which would be nigh on impossible. Holy mercy!
She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, because he switched them all off, the demonstration apparently over. It was time for her torment to begin as he nudged her thighs wider with his knees and lowered the ominous looking toy to her pussy. It slid right in, an easy task as sopping wet as she was. The rear vibe slid in easily too, needing no more lubricant than had already trickled down from her pussy. As the entire thing settled into place, the clit vibrator lining up perfectly as he spread her lips with his fingers, the other two probes filled her, abrading her already sensitive tissues. Then the thing came to life, and damn him, he didn’t start out a low speed, or even medium, he set it to supersonic and her arousal went for zero to sixty all at once.
“Oh my god!” she cried, her hips arching to get away from the stimuli, while seeking more of it at the same time.
“That’s what I thought you’d say,” he said with a chuckle. “No coming ‘til I say so,” he added as if on cue.
“I won’t make it, sir,” she wailed as the vibe in her ass moved in counter-sync with the one in her pussy. “I’m almost there now.”
“That would be disappointing and would earn you some lashes on your pretty breasts.” She sucked in a breath as the thought of that sent her higher; he had keyed in on day one how much she enjoyed breast play. “That’s in addition to the lashing you’re going to take on your lush derriere with both the Johnny and the martinet. That is a given. I’m curious to find out how they compare.”
She started panting, trying to stave off the climax that was looming, but she knew it was hopeless when she heard another click and the dratted triple threat really kicked in. She’d thought he’d maxed it out before, but he had been holding speeds in reserve. This did her in and she screamed, convulsing violently as she came hard and long. And it didn’t abate, not when she thought it would because her sadistic dom didn’t turn any of them off, instead he held all three in place and started building another orgasm.
Mari closed her eyes and tried to think of other things, like those heart wrenching Sarah McLachlan neglected animal commercials, cleaning out her refrigerator, which was long past due, and the dental appointment which she had scheduled next week. But none of them distracted her from the endless vibrations and gyrations going on between her legs.
She felt the bed shift and opened her eyes just as Arturo straddled her thighs. With his knees, he nudged her legs closed, which wedged the vibe into place and allowed him the use of his hands. He picked up the red lash and dragged the length of it through one hand before snapping it at her breasts with the other. A lick of fire spread across the underside of her left breast as just the tips of the falls caught her. He then snapped it again at the same place, and again, the last one coming over top and across her nipple. The heat and bite of pain combined and sent a quake through her body from breast to clit and she came again.
Arturo grinned. “Too easy. We’re going to have to build up your endurance.” Taking aim at her other breast, he concentrated three straight licks right across the crest of her breast and spurred yet another climax.
“Please,” she cried out. “No more.”
“Not up to you, soumise. You know the words that will make the pleasure stop, but I don’t think you really want that, now, do you?”
She sobbed as the vibes continued to buzz away at her over sensitized tissues, hovering on a plateau between the last orgasm and the next. He relented somewhat, though, and lightly flicked his martinet downward, over her belly in a gradually downward line, then to her hips, lashing both sides lightly, with a mild, sting. Then he did the expected and snapped the flails right across her mound, once, twice, three times in a row, his body weight and wrist restraints the only thing keeping her from flying right off the bed in a fourth stunning climax.
He set the evil lash aside and then with long open hand strokes ran his hands up and down her torso, massaging every line left by the biting falls, over her hips, belly and up to her breasts. When he reached them, he leaned over and took each tip in his mouth sucking and laving the tips as he massaged away the ache left behind.
And still the vibe carried on, but she was beginning to feel numb and didn’t think there was any way possible she could come again. Arturo moved up and over her, until his face aligned with hers. He placed a tender kiss on her open mouth, delving inside with his tongue, heedless of her breathless state.
“You come beautifully, but I think you need a little break, hmm?”
“Yes, please, sir,” she agreed.
He moved down her body, his hands dragging across her flesh in reverse, then blessedly, the vibrations stopped and he eased the vibe from her swollen flesh. She sighed heavily in relief. His fingers soothed over her mound and across her wet lips as he murmured something softly in French. The sound of his voice and the tender caress lulled her, easing her down from the constant state of sexual excitement, for how long, she had no idea. She had allowed her body to relax when abruptly, she was flipped on her belly and a pillow stuffed under her hips.
“It’s my turn. You rest and don’t mind me while I play.” He said this with an evil chuckle as his big hands began to deeply massage the globes of her ass. As he squeezed and rubbed, he pulled her cheeks apart and surprised a yelp out of her as he slid his tongue up through her slit. “Mmm, your juices are so sweet. I could feast on you for sustenance, I believe.”
As he spoke, his breath tickled her back hole, making it clench and quiver. With one open hand, he swatted her rear smartly. Her quickly inhaled breath turned into a groan as he began massaging where his palm had landed. This became a pattern of slaps and squeezes, swats and moans, and at one point, his fingers, two of them at least by the feel of it, sank into her tender pussy and began a slow in and out thrusting. She was on the verge of what she thought physically impossible, when he moved back. There was a soft crinkling noise, and she relaxed, thinking he was covering himself and ready to fuck her, but fire exploded across both of her cheeks instead. After a moment, it came again, and by the third stroke she was crying out.
His body weight came to lie over her and his voice, husky and deep, intoned in her ear, “Hush, minou, not so loud. Use the pillow to muffle your cries or I’ll need to get the gag.”
“The pillow, sir. I hate a gag.”
“So noted, but if you can’t control you impassioned cries, I’ll have no choice, oui?”
“I’ll be good. I swear.”
“That’s my girl. You’re ready to continue with our little experiment, then?”
“Yes, sir, but whatever that was burns like fire.”
“That’s the loopy Johnny. You’ve got three more, then six with the martinet. Take the pain for me and after, I’ll fuck you hard and make you come again.”
“Yes, please, sir.”
His tongue licked up her neck to her ear and he caught the lobe between his teeth, something she noticed he seemed to enjoy a lot.
“I’m hard and aching for you now, so only those few strokes in the name of research, oui?” He eased away. “Here we go, use the pillow.”
And she did, moaning into it and muffling her cries as fire rained down on her already burning behind three more times. After a brief pause and a soothing rub, another half dozen licks followed. They stung, quite a bit, but were more tolerable than the dreaded loops, but like that wicked tool, barely made a swishing sound upon her skin.
When he set it aside, he pulled her up on her knees. The only forewarning of the promised fucking was the head of his cock gliding along her wet flesh, then he pressed into her. Slowly, he sank into the hilt, Mari so wet she took his considerable length easily.
“So hot and tight, putain, you feel like heaven.”
He proceeded to fuck her, slow and steady at first, but hard. Each stroke stretched her, going infinitely deep, while his balls
slapped her clit, and on each inward thrust, the skin of his hips and thighs smacked her fiery behind. She was vibrating everywhere, accompanied by a blistering heat and stinging pain, but she loved it, feeling utterly alive.
Arturo took her relentlessly, driving into her, moving faster and faster until he was slamming into her with such force that he drove her up the bed. She had to brace her bound hands on the headboard. It thumped loudly against the wall, the irony that this noise in a hotel room was not questioned, but the sound of floggers and paddles or open hands on skin, with associated screams of pleasure would be.
His hands came up to her wrists and with a quick tug, he untied her, pulling her body upright on her knees until her back was to his front. His arm snaked around her, stabilizing her at an angle across her belly as one hand cupped the opposite breast.
“Grab the headboard with both hands and hang on. I’m not holding back anymore.”
Dear lord! She didn’t think that he had been.
But he proved her mistaken as he pistoned into her even harder than before, making her grunt each time he plunged deep, imprinting himself on her tender insides. Her head fell back on his shoulder and she turned her face into his neck. A few more strokes and she was flying once more, six times in total, which was a lifetime best, if she were the kind to keep score of such things. As she began to cry out with her release, one of his hands sank into her hair and turned her head, guiding her mouth up to meet his. He muffled her blissful moans with his kiss, his answering growl of completion swallowed up by her own, as they both came together in spectacular fashion.
* * *
French Kiss (Decadence Nights Book 2) Page 13
