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Le Français Pt. 12

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Le Français is an original Law Enforcement series playing with the Cop/Not-a-Cop trope, mixed with some social power play, and (hopefully) realistic BDSM elements. The series will jump between categories based on the content of each part. This series is sponsored by the fantastic ThL!

In this chapter you can expect a stakeout, and 'payback' that turns into more teasing in an MFF encounter.

Marc takes a risk and introduces Sinead to Felicity. Sort of.

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Chapter 82

Sinead put her phone away and made sure not to bite her lip or smile or doanything with her face. She also prayed to God that she wasn't blushing.

Jules looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. "Anything you need to tell me?"

"No?" Sinead said.

Her partner snorted softly and shook her head. They were on a cold stakeout watching Victor Barisha's warehouse - there wasn't really anything left todo until Marc was able to shake loose some information for them to act on, but they needed to know if those crates got moved or joined by more of them.Le Français Pt. 12 фото

"What?" Sinead asked.

"You need to get laid," Jules said.

"Fuck off," Sinead sighed. "This again? When was the last timeyou got laid?"

"I'm not the one who's letting it affect her," Julia defended herself. "Who were you texting with just now?"

"A guy," Sinead said. "Maybe someone who I'm going to get laid with, I don't know yet." That was all true - shehoped that Marc was going to use their meeting that night to fuck her, but she didn'tknow. He was a tricky French fuck.

"How did you meet him?" Jules asked.

"He's an international criminal mastermind," Sinead said with sarcasm dripping through her voice. "We fell in love when we got into a fender bender, and we're deciding whether we should run away together and open a bakery in his hometown, or a dog grooming business."

"OK, fuck off and leave my love of Hallmark movies alone, first of all," Jules chuckled. "They aren't supposed to begood, they're supposed to be heartwarming. Second of all, you're supposed to run into each other while you're both out of town so you're not in your element. Andthird, bitch, you can't distract me from the question. Who were you texting?"

"I actually was texting a guy," Sinead said, deciding to lean into as much of the truth as she could. Jules would know if she was blatantly lying. "And I actually am thinking I might get laid."

"Was that guy Marc?" Jules asked bluntly.

Sinead glared at her, having nothing else she could say.

Jules looked back at her pointedly, and they settled into an uncomfortable, challenging silence.

Sinead blinked first, mostly because she'd started glaring first, and Jules smirked just a little. But then they both broke the staring contest because the gate from the warehouse yard started opening.

"It's 11:17 AM," Jules said as she quickly scribbled in her notes. "Gate opens. Delivery truck arrives from the west. U-Haul rental, license plate G-Y-F-M-4-2-2, I think that's an Idaho picture on the side. Looks like two men in the front, another one working inside the yard. Wait- a dark grey town car is pulling in behind it. Tesla. Ninety per cent sure that was Victor Barisha driving, couldn't see the plates due to snow."

"Fuck," Sinead growled. That would have been a good reason to make a traffic stop, but she couldn't show her face around Victor.

"Yeah, well, your fault," Jules muttered. "Alright. Gate is closing, looks like the rental truck is pulling up to the main doors and- we've lost visual at 11:18 AM. Fuck. We don't know if they're loading or unloading."

"Alright," Sinead sighed. "Um - OK. I think we wait to see if the Uhaul truck leaves, then follow it and see if we have a reason to make a stop?"

"Better than nothing," Jules agreed. A beat later she snorted softly. "Unless you've gotplans."

"Nothing I can't push back," Sinead said, dreading the idea that she might need to. "It's just amaybe thing."

"Sure," Jules said, giving her some side-eye while she tucked her notebook back into his coat. "Sure."

"Fuck off," Sinead sighed.

"I'm just saying, Iget why you would be attracted to him," Jules said. "Hell, if I met him under different circumstances, I'd be attracted to him too."

"You mean you're attracted to him but you're ignoring it," Sinead said.

"Yes," Jules grunted. "That's what I mean. Marc, when he's not sitting in interrogation because we think he might be a secret crime lord, has attractive qualities. But hewas sitting there, across from us, and heis doing this shady work for you that could blow up in your fucking face. So if youare meeting up with him, just..."

"This'll be good," Sinead murmured.

"Just be careful, babe," Jules finally sighed.

Sinead slowly turned to look at her directly, eyebrow raised. "Be careful? What happened to 'Such a bad idea, don't do it?'"

"If you're not listening to the last eighty times I've said it, saying it one more time won't make a difference," Jules threw up her hands. "And you deny it every time even though I still think you're flicking your bean to him every night. Itis a bad idea but if you need to get him out of your system then just... do that. You haven't had a good fuck inyears, and maybe you'll be more clearheaded if he can give that to you. Just don't let him fall in love with your pasty white ass."

"Fuck off," Sinead chuckled.

"I didn't say it wasn't anice ass, it's just pasty white you Irish skank."

"So much more appreciated," Sinead said, then sighed. "You haven't exactly had a guy you've been raving about for a while either."

"Maybe not, but does this mean you're admitting you're gonna fuck Marc?"

"No, it's not me admitting I'm gonna fuck Marc," Sinead scoffed. "I just- I agree that he's got attractive qualities. Some very attractive ones, honestly. He's corny as shit but going out with him on those undercover 'dates' is a kind of a whirlwind of fancy princess shit. Expensive car, expensive restaurant, fancy people. And he'sgood at it, which might be the hottest, most annoying part. But you're also right that doing anything with him is a bad idea."

"OK, at least we're on the same page," Jules said, then perked up. "Gate's opening at 11:33. Uhaul truck looks like it's leaving."

Sinead bit the inside of her cheek.

Everything with Marcwas a bad idea. A really, reallygood bad idea. She'd been ready to take the next step for a while now - and hopefully it would happen that night. And maybe Jules was right and it would get out of her system and she could have a frank discussion with him. After all his talk about consent with BDSM she couldn't see him gettingweird about it if she wanted to call it off.

Maybe that was the play. Get fucked, get it out of her system. Even if itwas anal. Then things could go back to normal.

She shifted, reminded of the buttplug in her ass as she turned on the unmarked car and pulled onto the street, following the rental truck.

Chapter 83

"Ma petite rebelle," Marc said as he opened the door to his condo, giving the Detective a warm smile. He offered her his hand and guided her in, stopping her just inside the door. She was dressed in her leather coat as usual, but instead of her usual slacks, she had clearly made an extra effort with a green dress and heels despite the continuing cold weather.

"Hello, Marc," she said, half-cold and half-nervous. "I wasn't sure-"

"We're staying in tonight, Sinead," Marc assured her as he helped her to take off her coat. The dress was delicious even if it wasn't of the quality he would buy for her - she knew how to dress for her body type. It was a halter and had a plunging neckline that showed off the middle of her torso and small cleavage, but also left her shoulders and most of her back bare. The skirt portion hugged her hips and ass and came down to about mid-thigh, loose enough to let her walk but tight enough that it wasn't flowing around her. Her heels, a matching green, were closed-toe but tall enough to do the job of heels and accent her legs and ass. "Tu es ravissante, ma chère."

She sighed as he hung her coat on a hook alongside his coats by the door. "What does thatmean, Marc?"

"Just an observation, Detective," Marc smiled, then took her hand and led her deeper into his home.

"Marc," Sinead sighed as she saw the table. "Really?"

The candle-lit dinner was a flirtatious dance. He had cooked for her, first serving a gruyere cheese souffle as an appetizer, followed by Coq au Vin prepared the traditional slow way. The chicken stew was a bit of an ordeal to eat since the chicken remained boned - well, it was an ordeal for non-Europeans, Marc had learned. Sinead didn't comment on that, but did compliment him on the rich flavours.

The conversation was also light, and Marc enjoyed that part of the dance the most. The Detective was just off-balance enough, wondering what came next. Knowingsomething was coming, some turn. Or at least expecting it.

Because that was the game.

But Marc kept the conversation light. Talking about family, and travel. And Sinead rose to the challenge, digging for little nuggets of information. He discovered that the Detective had considered being a lawyer while she was in high school because she had an aunt who was one. She pried a couple of his stories out of him about the three months he'd lived in Italy in his twenties. They laughed, and Marc loved both of the looks in her eyes - the one where she was piecing together the little bits of him like he was a puzzle or riddle, and the one where she was eyeing him like she was expecting him to climb across the table and eat her whole.

Still, however, Marc kept up the game.

When he stood and took their finished plates to the kitchen, he could feel the Detective's eyes following him, and when he returned he could see she was expecting that the night was about to move on to other things. He took her hand and she stood, licking her lower lip with nervous energy.

"Come, ma petite rebelle," he said. "I think it will be fun to teach you something new."

"I think so too," she said, a little breathless.

- - - - -

This motherfucker, Sinead thought to herself.

Her thong felt like it was a soaked piece of napkin wedged up her cooch, she was so turned on. The whole dinner had been fuckingridiculous, and the fact that he'd cooked it for her and hadn't just ordered it in or something was another layer of annoyingly sweet and hot. It was like he was trying to prove that he was fucking Man of the Year or something.

And then he took her hand and said something about teaching her new things, and her knees had goneweak because she had the buttplug in and she knew that he was going to have her doing things she'd never done before. Scary things. Hot things. And he was going to make itgood.

But he didn't take her up to his bedroom. He didn't even take her over to the couch.

Hell, he could have stripped her down and done her on the fucking floor and she would have probably done whatever he wanted.

Instead, he had her fucking helping make dessert.

She wanted to grab him and shake him and shout, 'Just fuck me already!' She wanted to strip down naked and jump on him like a wildcat. Hell, she wanted him to fucking grab her ass or something, at least.

But he was a perfect gentleman. The most he touched her was on her arms or hands as he showed her what he needed her to do to make these fucking crepes. He would stand close, but nottoo close. Not close enough to press against her. Just close enough for her to lean back into him if she wanted.

Except that he was in charge. Frustratingly, aggravatingly in charge.

Her agreement to that felt like it was stuck in her damn throat.

"Ah, perfect, Sinead," Marc said as he took the orange butter sauce from her. "Now watch closely."

She did, and fuck him for making the whole processinteresting as he dipped the crepes into the sauce, then put them in a hot pan with Grand Marnier and lit the fuckers on fire. The fact that he had to make sure she knew to use the blue label in the future, like she would be just casually making them at home, and not the cheaper red label was funny and annoying and put a tingle through her.

Once they were done, and he'd plated them on one plate, Marc led her back to the table and he fucking cut one in half and offered her a fork like she was a little kid, or they were some disgusting lovey-dovey over the top couple out on a Valentine's Day date. And she hated herself for letting him feed her, even if it was just one bite, and feeling a little gooey inside as she did it.

The fact that the crepe suzette was fuckingdelicious didn't help clarify things.

Sinead ate more than her half of the plate and didn't give one shit about it because Marc was playing her and she knew it. He was going to send her home without any dickagain and she was going to end up masturbating to her thoughts of him and thosefucking crepes.

When he took her hand and led her towards the stairs, she realised she was tongue-tied. As he gestured for her to go ahead of him she forgot to even put a little oomph into her hips as she climbed them.

Is... is it happening?

Is it FUCKING happening!?

- - - - -

"Have I mentioned you look absolutely delightful tonight, ma petite rebelle?" Mark asked Sinead as he led the Detective over to the tall mirror in his bedroom. She allowed him to lead her and he stood behind her and gently swept her fiery copper hair back over her shoulders as she watched him in the reflection.

"You saidsomething when I first came in and then teased me for not understanding you," she said, her eyes piercing.

"Ah, yes," he chuckled. "Well, let me translate for you then. When you first arrived and I saw this dress, and your shoes, and how you had done your hair so nicely, I was struck by how ravishing you were."

She sighed, tilting her head to one side and shaking it a little. "Ravishing? Really, Marc?"

"Yes, really," he said, smiling but frowning with his eyes a little. "What's wrong with 'ravishing?'"

"It's just... a bit much," she said.

Marc brushed his fingers along her shoulder and then moved her hair to the side, bringing his lips to the bare skin of the crook of her neck. "Are you sure about that?" he asked and then kissed her.

Sinead breathed in, deep and slow, at the feel of his lips on her. "Yes," she finally breathed out.

"Well, then," Marc said, slowly lifting his lips and shifting to her other side, taking her hand in his and lifting it up to kiss her fingers as he gazed into her eyes through reflection. "I'll need to find another word then, won't I? Perhaps... Well, jolie andmignonne are both too immature for a woman such as yourself. Belle is too simple, too base. Magnifique, perhaps? Envoutante?"

"You're a real ass, you know?" Sinead murmured, but all the vitriol was out of her as she continued to meet his gaze and his lips brushed her fingertips in between words.

"Do you trust me, myenvoutante, magnifique, sublime Detective?" he asked her gently.

Sinead swallowed and nodded.

"Please say it," he prompted her.

"I trust you, Marc," she said quietly, with a delicious tension in her voice. She meant it, and it scared her. The game was perfect.

"Do you consent to submitting to my sexual desires for the evening?" he asked her. This wasn't 'proper' in the BDSM world - asking for consent should have been more explicit aboutwhat was being consented to, but part of Marc was used to the deep trust he'd established with Felicity, and part of him wanted to ease Sinead into this while keeping the fun of the surprise elements... surprising.

"I do," she breathed out, then sucked in another deep breath.

"When we discussed all of this, your safe word was Jupiter. Would you like to keep that, or would you like to pick something new, ma petite rebelle? Something that you can remember even if you are in the throes of passion or find yourself in unexpected pain?"

"Um," she gulped. "Ah, um... Change it, I guess? What about Code Eight?"

"Is this a police thing?" he asked, and she nodded. "What does it mean?"

"An officer needs assistance," Sinead said. "Asking for backup. That sort of thing."

Marc chuckled and nodded. "That makes sense, and you're certainly not going to forget it. Practice it for me, Sinead. So you know I will listen if you use those words in particular." He placed a hand on her hip, then slid it around to her stomach. The psychology behind the body could be fascinating - erogenous zones, vulnerability points. The stomach wasn't usually a sexual, erogenous zone for most people, but itwas a primal vulnerability, which was why body language experts identified covering it as a sign of someone being uncomfortable or lacking confidence. Placing his hand on her there, with her nerves and awareness heightened, was a sign of dominance.

She sucked in another deep breath, her nipples now making clear points in her dress, and her stomach fluctuated a little under his touch. She allowed it.

Sliding his hand up higher, Marc waited for her to say the words. Up to her sternum, then over the neckline of her dress to the smooth, warm skin of her chest. She didn't say the words, so he didn't stop. He did slow, however, and he began to slide his hand to the side, under the shoulder of the halter strap, towards her breast.

His pinky and ring finger were pressed to her cleavage when she gasped, "Code eight."

He paused, slid his hand back to the centre of her chest and then removed it from her altogether.

"Yes?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "Yes."

"Bien," he nodded, then raised his hand to her chin and tilted her face to his over her shoulder to kiss her softly. "Are you ready?"

"I am," she said, that eager, nervous fire in her eyes.

"Then strip for me, Detective."

She began to strip.

Translations

"Tu es ravissante, ma chère." = "You are ravishing, my dear."

Jolie = pretty

Mignonne = cute

Belle = pretty, beautiful

Magnifique = Magnificent, beautiful

Envoutante = Captivating

Chapter 84

Sinead felt like her skin was on fire and ice cold at the same time. It was puckered in goosebumps, arms and legs, andGod did her nipples feel hard.

And he'd barely done anything yet.

The feeling of control from her using the Safe Word he'd asked her for had been... powerful. Strangely. His hand on her, the thing she'd kind of been (embarrassingly) craving had sent shivers through her, and then as he'd brought it higher, and closer... And she'd said it at the last possible moment, and he'd stopped.

The reality was that he could 'prove it' easily, but ignore it later. That was just logic and Sinead had heard plenty of sad, frustrating stories from women mixed up in ugly domestic violence cases saying, 'But he promised...'

And still, for all that thisthing went against her logic, she wanted it.

His eyes on her as she'd stripped had only been fuel for the fire in her. And when she'd finished, standing in front of his mirror as his eyes travelled up and down her front and back equally and she'd hooked her fingers behind her to try and stop from fidgeting, she knew fidgeting would have led to her touching herself.

She wasfucking horny.

But Sinead was glad she'd waited because then Marc had touched her.

His hands were the perfect combination of soft and rough. He'd touched her before - hell, he'd made her come with his fingers and his mouth before, but knowing this was goingfurther heightened things. Her nipples were rock hard. Her pussy was wet and she wouldn't have been surprised if it literallydripped when he teased it with just the tip of a finger along each labia.

 

Then he'd had her undress him, and she'd done it like some servant girl or something. And it made her feel... she couldn't describe it. Hungry, but more than that. And he was almost fully hard already, proof that he wanted her. Proof that revved the hunger in her gut that finally, finally her fantasy was going to be fulfilled.

The handcuffs had sent tingles through her. And again, he showed her that even though she was going to be restrained, she could get out. They weren't like her service handcuffs - though they were just as sturdy. They had a rubberized interior that cushioned the bite into her wrists, and they had a little latch that would release them in an emergency.

He picked her up and placed her where he wanted her on the bed, her arms over her head as he fed the longer-than-usual chain through what she'd thought was a decorative loop in the headboard. It lifted her arms over her head and up, but he also made sure she had pillows under her shoulders so that while her arms would probably ache after a while she wasn't being tortured.

Then came the bar.

"This, ma petite rebelle, is a spreader bar," Marc explained as he came back from the closet with it. It was maybe three and a half or four feet long and had round clasps at either end. "It attaches like so." He looped the clasps around her ankles and clicked them into place, one after the other. The bar immediately made her spread her legs, which was obviously the point, and other than bending her knees to try and bring her thighs closer together she couldn't close her legs, which meant her soaking wet pussy was on display to him.

No, for him.

That thought made Sinead gulp a little.

Then he made sure to take the time to show her how she could detach the spreader bar if something unexpected happened. Both with her hands as normal, and if she twisted her legs how one end of the bar would detach from itself and allow her freedom to move.

Then he reattached the bar and knelt on the bed at her feet, giving her that fucking smile of his as he slowly lifted the bar, which raised her legs into the air, until her body was at a full right angle and she was looking at him through the gap between her legs and knew he could see every vulnerable, private part of her. Including the buttplug between her ass cheeks.

Was this how he was going to take her?

"Marc..." she said - actually, she gasped it, and it sounded fuckingwhorish in her own ears and she didn't like that but also kind of did.

"Shhh, ma jolie poupée," he hushed her, giving her another one of his smiles and rubbing the backs of both her thighs before lowering her legs again. She had no idea what that meant, but the tone in his voice was warm and just a little teasing, so she assumed it was some sort of sexual endearment. She still gave him a little glare because heknew it annoyed her.

He got back off the bed and she watched his ass as he walked back to the closet. It almost wasn't fair that he was older than her and looked that good. She really needed to figure out what his exercise regimen was. Then again, maybe thiswas part of his exercise regimen.

Marc came back with a black silk length of fabric, and Sinead gasped again as he climbed up onto the bed and straddled her torso, his cock - hard and hot and ready - bounced slightly and tapped her between her tits. But she was busy looking up into his eyes as he continued to smile.

"Now I am going to take away your sight, Sinead," he said softly, gently gliding the silky fabric across her lips and chin. Why did that feel so... sensuous?

"You've already got me handcuffed to the bed and my cooch out," Sinead said back, trying to joke about it and hoping it didn't come across snarky because that 'I don't want a Brat as a submissive' thing had been rolling around in her head. The idea that she could be a 'brat' wasreally off-putting. "Do we really need to do a blindfold, too?"

"Would it be more cinematic if I used a sack instead?" he asked with a smirk. "That is what the criminals use, yes?"

Sinead rolled her eyes. "In the movies, sure," she said. "But I'm not a dirty cop, Marc. I've never had to go to a meeting with a crime lord with a bag over my head."

He tutted softly, shaking his head, but with that teasing look in his eyes. Then he lowered the fabric down, running it across her neck and shoulders. "Are you asking for menot to use the blindfold, or are you simply tempting me to spank you?"

Sinead worked her jaw for a moment, then shook her head. "Neither. I trust you."

"Merci," he nodded, then dragged the fabric up from her chest and positioned it, folded in half, over her eyes. "Removing a sense does not work like in the movies, obviously," he said. "But it does provide some delightful benefits. It helps you concentrate, and the surprise of sensations... well, you'll see."

"I guess I will," Sinead mumbled as he gently tilted her head forward and tied the blindfold securely around her head. Then he dismounted from straddling her and she knew he was to her right, but that was all.

Then his lips pressed to hers and he kissed her like she fuckingwanted to be kissed by him, and she moaned like a slut into that kiss and pulled against the cuffs which was kind of a turn-on to not be able to grab him or anything.

Oh, hell, this whole thing is a fucking turn-on, she cursed herself. Sinead knew she was putty in his hands and he could do pretty much anything to her and she'd probably love it and ask for more.

Which was dangerous, and scary.

And just made it even hotter.

Then he pulled his lips from hers and she tried to follow but couldn't, and she fell back onto the mattress and pillows with a whimper.

"You really know how to leave a girl wanting more, you know that?" she asked, this time with a little more snark in it.

He chuckled and she felt him get off the bed, and she could only really track him by that laugh. Then he climbed back up onto the bed from the foot and headed towards her, his weight shifting around her the only hint at what was going on.

Then the slightly rough feel of the stubble on his cheek brushed against her toes as he kissed the top of her foot, and then against her calf as he kissed the opposite leg.

He climbed higher, between her legs, kissing her as he got to more and more vulnerable areas. But he slowed down as well, fuckingteasing her again. Kisses on her inner thighs. His fingers gripping her, rubbing her, squeezing her. His hot breath making her tingle. The stubble on his cheek just a little scratchy.

"Oh, God, my pussy isso fucking wet, Marc," Sinead blurted out. It felt like she was so horny and lubed up naturally that her entire Goddamn womb would slide right out of her - never mind that that was both kind of disgusting and entirely implausible.

"It looks delicious, ma petite rebelle," Marc murmured and she couldhear that motherfucking smile in his voice.

And then he kissed her labia, his lips soft and gentle against her heat, and Sinead let out every ounce of oxygen in her lungs and then refilled them in a gasp. He was going to fucking draw this out, and she hated that, but she also knew it was going to begood.

- - - - -

Marc hummed a laugh as he withdrew from Sinead's pussy for the fifth or sixth time. Her juices were all over his lips and chin now, and he knew she was dying for her orgasm.

Primarily because she was vocal about it.

"Fuck, Marc," she groaned, humping her hips up and down, desperate for more contact. "I'm so fuckingclose, you bastard."

She'd been saying that for a good fifteen minutes, which was why he'd been pulling away more often.

"Ah, ah," Marc said, giving her a slight slap on the thigh.

"I'm sorry," she grunted. "You're not a bastard." He waited, knowing she couldn't help herself. She humped her hips again, her bright red and pink pussy flowered open and begging for attention. "You're afucking bastard."

He grinned and shook his head, then tugged on the spreader bar to get her legs flat on the bed again before he crawled up her body. His cock tapped against the crook between her leg and her pussy and dragged away from it, making her gasp, and he straddled her torso and shifted higher until he was over her chest.

"Open, ma petite rebelle," he ordered her, tapping his cock against her lower lip. Her mouth was already open slightly, but she opened much wider and accepted his cock into her mouth. Her moan of pleasure as she began to suck on him for the first time that night was a delicious piece of music.

He let her work a bit - she still wasn't as good as Felicity, but she also hadn't had several years of practice to know all those little things his blonde companion did. What Sinead did have was the same hunger, and she sucked his cock without fear of anything outside of their little bubble. And she moaned and groaned, her body wriggling under him as she lost herself in the sexual moment.

Then, when the moment was right, he scooped a hand behind her head and took control, thrusting his cock between her lips.

"Good girl," he growled as she accepted this change of pace.

He didn't fuck her face roughly - that would come, but not quite yet. But he enjoyed her mouth for a long moment, stroking between those thin lips of hers as she bathed him with her tongue and did her best to give him every ounce of suction she could.

And without warning he pulled away, taking her chin in one hand and feeding her his thumb instead, which she sucked on as she tilted her chin up into his hand.

"Very good girl," Marc said, stroking her jawline with his fingers for a moment before letting her go and swinging his leg over her, then backing off the bed.

Sinead's beautiful, lithe, pale body was already sweaty and panting. Her nipples were hard and standing proud, begging for attention. Her cunt, bare and open, enflamed with want. Her lips remained parted like she couldn't decide if she wanted to gasp, take his cock back in her mouth, or something else.

But Marc didn't climb back on the bed. Not yet.

Instead, he turned and gestured for Felicity to come over from the stairs where she'd been waiting and watching silently. She'd slowly gotten undressed once she'd arrived and had been leaning casually, a smile on her face as she watched him play with the redhead, occasionally touching herself.

She pressed her nude body to Marc's and kissed him gently, tasting Sinead on his lips, then leaning back to look into his eyes with a playful warmth.

He winked at her and nodded towards the bed, and she grinned and slipped from him, climbing onto the bed silently.

Translations

"... ma jolie poupée," = "... my cute doll,"

Chapter 85

Marc was... fuckingamazing. Sinead couldn't believe the things he was doing to her. Her body felt hot and cold, buzzing with energy and completely relaxed and mellow. He'd brought her up to a near-climax and then held her there for what might have been minutes, or hours, or something. Time was feeling loopy under the blindfold and she didn't give a fuck because she'd just wanted tocome and he wasn't letting her, but the agony of being denied was awfully sweet.

Then he'd changed things up on her again. Part of Sinead thought the change of pace, keeping her on her psychological toes, was where he really shone. His pussy eating skills were top notch, but she'd already known that. His kissing game was also strong as fuck and left her wanting more every time he pressed his lips to hers.

And his cock tastedgood. Manly, without being musky. Blowing him while blindfolded had been kind of a trip, let alone while handcuffed and unable to stroke him or direct his cock around. And when he took control, all she could really do was drop her jaw and let him use her mouth...

It was tough to argue with the effect it had on her, even if getting her mouth fucked was something she'd never thought she'd enjoy. And now she couldn't wait for it to happen again.

Then he'd done it to her again, changing things up. He'd let her come on his tongue.

AndGod he must have been holding out on her on purpose or something because when he went from her sucking his cock to him licking her, he was using an entirely different technique. His tonguedanced over her. His lips were soft and teasing where they'd been firm and demanding before. Both ways were good, and she'd almost come from the first technique several times, but the unexpected change sent new thrills through her.

"Oooh, fuckfuckfuck, you Frenchfuck," she moaned, gasping and panting, pulling on the handcuffs as her body tried to curl in on itself and her pussy felt like it was boiling over. Marc used his tongue as a hard little tip, circling around her clit, and his chin brushed smoothly over slick lips as he suddenly sucked on her hard.

Sinead came, feeling her hot juices leaking out of her, moaning into the darkness of her blindfold.

"Thank you," she panted. "Thank you. So good. Thank you."

She hated that she was fuckingthanking him like a needy little... she wasn't even sure what. But it babbled out of her anyways as her mind swam through the hazy murk of her orgasm.

She felt Marc climb up onto the bed, having lost track of him for a moment, from the side. Knee-walking across the mattress towards her head. She knew what was coming and turned her face in his direction, eagerly opening her mouth for him.

"Good girl, Sinead," he growled softly, and his cock tapped against her lower lip twice before he fed her just the velvety tip.

"Mmmhmm," she moaned, tasting that manly taste again mixed with a dash of his precum, letting her know he was enjoying this just as much as she was. He just had more control.

Then Marc leaned forward and started licking her pussy again with those teasing little touches and she rolled her hips, wanting more contact.

Except Marc was kneeling near her head, his cock in her mouth.

He wasn't kneeling between her legs, eating her out.

Butsomeone was.

She spit out his cock. "What thefuck!?"

- - - - -

"Shhhh, Sinead," Marc said, resting his hands on her arms as the redhead yanked against her handcuffs instinctively. "Do you trust me?"

Felicity had given the woman a couple of licks, and when the Detective had reacted, she'd sat up and away. Marc hadthoroughly enjoyed watching the blonde tease the redhead, Felicity being careful not to give away the game by brushing Sinead with her breasts or hair. He'd been a little concerned that the Detective would piece things together that Felicity didn't have any stubble on her cheeks or chin, but his buxom partner in crime had gotten their 'victim' revved up to the point that she didn't notice.

Sinead hesitated from pulling her hands loose from the hook in the bed frame, maybe at Marc's touch or maybe at his words. He wasn't stopping her from moving; his touch was quite possibly as gentle as he could make it, letting her know he was there but not seeking to impede her in any way. This was the most dangerous part of the game he'd set up for the evening and he knew it - he'd very much stretched the meaning of Sinead's blanket consent by bringing in Felicity.

The question was whether the Detective was willing to be stretched or if she was going to snap.

"Who the fuck is here with us?" Sinead demanded. "Who's been- Who- Who's been eating my pussy!?"

Marc let his hands settle a little more firmly on Sinead's arms. Still not holding her or stopping her, but reassuring her. "I thought that it was perhaps time for you to meet my dear Felicity, Detective. She's been helping me out here and there with her opinions on our little game, as you know. She also helped me with a favour I had to call in for some information on your case."

"Hello, darling," Felicity said, smiling at Marc as she put her hands on Sinead's shins just above where the spreader bar was still keeping the redhead wide open for both their view. "You are absolutely gorgeous, and I hope you don't mind me saying that you taste delicious, too."

"Oh myGawd," Sinead groaned, grimacing under the blindfold and clearly having a little mental war within herself about the situation - the multiple orgasms were likely not helping her clarity of thought. "Um. Hi."

"Now, I think it's prudent if I ask you again, ma petite rebelle," Marc said. "Do you trust me?"

"After this?" Sinead scoffed. "Barely."

"That's not a no," Felicity said with a little smirk.

Sinead let out a huff of air and bit the inside of her cheek for a moment. "Yeah, well, Iam bare-ass naked right now. Sobarely trusting him fits."

Felicity snorted at the awful pun, and Marc just rolled his eyes.

"I'd very much like to keep teasing you and making you come," Felicity purred, sliding her hands up Sinead's legs and swapping from her outer calf to inner thigh.

Sinead let out a delightful little grunt that was just one step away from a whimper.

"Watching you with her was extremely arousing, Sinead," Marc said, leaning down and whispering to her as he kept one eye on Felicity. He brought his lips to within a couple of inches of the redhead's, and Felicity continued to slide her hands slowly towards the apex of Sinead's thighs, dragging her perfectly manicured fingernails across the Detective's tender, pale skin.

"You really are a fuckingbastard, Marc," Sinead grunted.

"And you love it, ma petite rebelle," he grinned. "Now give Felicity permission to really show you how lovely she thinks you are, and then these pretty little lips of yours will get back to work where they belong."

Sinead sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, her chest rising and falling enticingly. "Felicity," she said slowly. "I'd... could you...?"

"Of course, darling," Felicity grinned, leaning forward and giving Sinead's pussy a teasing little lick. This time, she let her long blonde hair fall to the side, brushing silkily against the inside of Sinead's thigh, and she used both hands to push the back of the Detective's thighs so she would raise her knees a little higher. This meant that Felicity's big breasts could push against them a little, giving Sinead another reminder that it was awoman down there.

"Good girl, Detective," Marc murmured.

"Fuck you," Sinead murmured right back. "Now kiss me."

Marc smirked but did as she demanded, deciding that giving her that one was fair. He kissed her and added in a soft massage of her tight little breast, her rubbery nipple grinding against his palm. Then, once he felt she'd gotten enough of what she'd asked for and Felicity had her breathing just shy of a pant, Marc raised up from her lips. "Time to suck my cock, Sinead," he told her.

Her response was to turn her face much as she had before, but this time she stuck out her tongue in a somewhat ridiculous display, so Marc didn't just tease the blindfolded woman to get her ready for more like a thoughtful partner should - he slid the head of his cock along her tongue, deep into her mouth, and then right back out again before pressing the shaft to the side of her face so she could feel the heat of it and her own spittle getting wiped on her.

"You, my dear Detective, are asking for it with that sass," he warned her with a smile that she couldn't see but could definitely hear in his tone.

"So give me what I'm-huh- asking for, Marc," Sinead said. The impact of her attitude was a little lost with her sudden reaction to Felicity sliding a pair of fingers into her.

Marc cupped her jaw for a moment, sliding his hand back further to scoop behind her head, and his fingers wove into her copper red hair as he looked down at her fine features. She really was a work of art.

 

Especially with a cock in her mouth.

He gave that to her, sliding his cock between her lips and using a combination of thrusting and controlling her head to take full control of her and fuck her face. It wasn't fast and messy like in porn - there was a time for that sort of thing, but it wasn't now. This was firm and commanding, Dominant and submissive. It was Marc exemplifying his role as both the one who was in control of the situation and their exchange, but also of making sure he was keeping her safe. He didn't force his cock to the back of her throat to make her gag. He didn't try to make her deepthroat him without having worked up to that.

He fucked her lips and mouth, and she did what she could with her tongue to add to that pleasure. And she hummed in exuberance as she performed for him, and moaned like a muffled whore as Felicity worked her into a drawn out trio of fresh orgasms.

By the time Marc was pulling away from Sinead's mouth, her lips were flushed and messy with spittle and utterly smudged lipstick, and her entire body was covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Good girl," he affirmed her again, seeing that flinch in her cheek as he said it. That flinch where she reacted to being called a 'girl' and not the strong woman she was, but the pleasure at receiving praise as well. "Now, ma petite rebelle, do you think you would be interested in returning the favour to my dear Felicity?"

Sinead inhaled at that suggestion, clearly unsure. "I... don't know," she hedged. "I've never, well... done that. And I don't know if I'd want to- Can I take off the blindfold and see her?"

Marc glanced at Felicity, who had sat up from Sinead but still had her hands on the other woman's thighs. The blonde gave Marc a smile and a shrug, leaving it up to him. She looked a sight, her chin and cheeks covered in Sinead's pussy juices and her hair mussed, but a delightfully cute andwomanly sight. Like a classic depiction of Aphrodite.

"If you don't think you can continuewithout seeing her, I'll allow it," Marc said slowly, rubbing Sinead's chest just over her breasts. "But I think this game is more fun with younot seeing her yet. Would you consent to perhaps some kissing, at least, without seeing her?"

"OK," Sinead said, a little breathless. A little nervous.

Seeing her nervous was always a bit of a turn-on. The Detective was such a confident, even arrogant, woman that the nervousness humanised her a little more.

It only took a few hand gestures for Felicity to know what he was thinking, and Marc slipped off the bed after giving Sinead one little peck on the lips. He stopped for a moment to watch Felicity follow his request, crawling up Sinead's body - the blonde made a production of it, kissing her way higher up the redhead's tight little torso, dragging her hefty tits across Sinead's skin. He waited long enough for Felicity to get up chest-to-chest with Sinead.

"Hello, beautiful," Felicity said sweetly, stroking Sinead's hair.

"Um, hi," Sinead said. "I'm guessing if you're with Marc, you're probably fucking gorgeous, too."

"He does tend to tell me that I am, yes," Felicity smiled, glancing over at Marc and winking. "But tonight isn't about me, it's about you. His little rebel." Felicity leaned in closer and pressed her lips to Sinead's lightly in a small, almost innocent first kiss. "I hope you don't mind tasting yourself a little bit, Sinead. You got me a little messy."

"I sort of think that you were asking for it, with what you were doing down there," Sinead sighed and chuckled.

"That's true," Felicity smirked. Then she kissed Sinead again, a little deeper, and Marc left them to it for a moment.

He was ready tofuck. Using Sinead's mouth, and the entire run-up of the evening, had been a delicious series of foreplay encounters, but he was reaching his limit on patience. With that in mind, he slipped away from beside the bed and dipped into the walk-in closet, opening up one of the drawers that held his toys and took out a bottle of anal lube. He spread some on his fingers and started to stroke it along his cock as he walked back out to the bed, eyeing Felicity's big, wonderful ass as she knelt straddling Sinead's hips. She wiggled it, as if she knew he was looking, and arched her back as she pressed her chest more firmly against Sinead - they were fully making out now and lost in their own little world for the moment.

Marc got on up onto the bed behind Felicity, knee-walking to her as he squeezed some more dollops of the lube out into his fingers and then slid them down into the cleft between Felicity's ass cheeks. She hummed her approval, waggling her butt a little more on purpose, and shifted to spread her knees wider, making herself even more accessible.

They both knew what they were doing.

- - - - -

Something changed in Felicity as Sinead was kissing her. Or really, to be fair, Sinead felt like she wasbeing kissed - without any power to do anything with her hands, or even see the woman she was kissing, it felt wrong to Sinead to think of herself asdoing the kissing.

Not that it wasn't a weirdly intoxicating moment.

Sinead had kissed women before. A few drunken moments in college, a few less-than-drunk moments when there was a vibe in the air and maybe something could have happened, but it never felt right. None of them had been like this.

Maybe it was mutual practice or something, but Felicity could kiss just as well as Marc. And just like eating pussy, it wasdifferent but still so good. And it wasn't just technique; the sheer physical presence of Felicity was... well, it was soft. The other woman's body was clearly curvier than Sinead's, and those curves pressed to her were extremely different than the feeling of Marc, or her ex-husband or other exes. And knowing a woman was pressing her tits against Sinead, or that those hands running up her sides or arms, stroking her intimately, were a woman's...

But something changed. Felicity gasped and then hummed softly deep in her chest, the sound reverberating down into Sinead. Then the woman was kissing her again, and Sinead could feel subtle movements. Subtle... somethings. One thing became clear quickly, though - Felicity started to kiss her with even more passion and a little less soft, teasing energy. Their kisses deepened, Felicity's tongue exploring Sinead's mouth, her breathing coming a little harder.

Then there was a smack sound, and Sineadknew that sound. A hand spanking an ass.

"Mmmffmmgmm!" Sinead mumbled in frustration through the kiss.

Felicity pulled her lips away. "Pardon?" she asked breathily.

"Is he fucking you right now?" Sinead asked.

Felicity moaned, deep and low, and Sinead could hear the smile on her lips in that moan. "Yes, darling. Marc just pusheddeep into my ass. And it'sso good. I expect he'll be fucking me hard in a moment."

"What the fuck?" Sinead murmured, then louder. "I thoughtI was supposed to be getting fucked tonight?"

"Ah, ma petite rebelle," Marc said. "Si tu veux faire rire les dieux, parle leur de tes projets. Making assumptions will always lead you astray. Educated guesses are better, obviously, but even then - whose decision is it when I finally fuck you?"

"... Yours," Sinead grumbled begrudgingly.

"I promise I can give you enough attention while Marc uses my ass the way we both love," Felicity murmured to her, then gasped and laughed in a way that made Sinead fuckingache deep in her pussy. And clench her ass on her buttplug, imagining what it would feel like for Marc to take her. Soft at first, and then rough. Demanding.

Sinead almost jumped as she was broken from her little imaginary revelry as Felicity ran her hand down Sinead's stomach to her pussy, wiggling two manicured fingers into her as she started to kiss her as well.

"I'll bring you with me for the ride, gorgeous," Felicity groaned, working Sinead's pussy.

"OK," Sinead agreed in a heavy exhalation. "OK."

Translations

"Si tu veux faire rire les dieux, parle leur de tes projets... = "If you want to make the gods laugh, tell them about your plans...

Chapter 86

Sinead glowered at Marc even though he met her with a towel as she stepped out of his shower. The fact that it was a wonderfully fluffy towel, and her body felt like it wasfloating after everything that had happened even if she hadn't gotten fucked, made it a little harder for her to maintain the expression.

But she was determined to let Marc know how she felt about things.

Primarily that he still hadn't put his fucking cock in her, but a close second that he'd spirited Felicity away while leaving Sinead tied up. She hadn't seen a single inch of the woman with the warm, welcoming voice and the mouth that could do fucking wonders.

"How are you feeling?" Marc asked her after he'd bundled her up on the towel that felt like it might have been more expensive than any piece of clothing in her wardrobe back home. How was itthat soft?

The truth was, Sinead felt fucking amazing.

"Pissed off," she lied.

Marc just chuckled, and she hated that he could see through her like that. Him and his fuckingaftercare. Once Felicity was gone, he'd kept the blindfold on Sinead but had freed her from the spreader bar and the handcuffs. Then he'd broken out some sort of massage oil and massaged her entire body, making her fuckingmelt in a completely different way than Felicity had, before picking her up and bringing her to the shower. She'd only been freed of the blindfold once she was standing in the big shower stall, and Marc had taken the time to wash all her sweat and the massage oil from her before he left her to give her a few minutes to gather herself.

"What are you most 'pissed off' about, ma petite rebelle?" he asked.

"Felicity."

"That she joined us?"

Sinead knew sheshould have been pissed about that. Marc had basically tricked her into a threesome. It was a lowdown, dirty tactic. If he was her boyfriend, or if her ex-husband had tried that shit, she'd befuming.

But Marc wasn't her boyfriend or her husband. He was her... Dominant. And she was his submissive. And she'd agreed to the game he was playing with her.

Andfuck Felicity had played her like a fine instrument. Even while the curvy woman had been moaning in Sinead's ear as she got totally pounded by Marc.

"No," Sinead grunted. "That you fucking disappeared her before I couldmeet her."

Marc chuckled softly, drying her with the towel that was made of clouds. "I promise, Detective, that youwill eventually meet Felicity. But it was more fun this way."

"'Fun,'" Sinead deadpanned, her voice making the air quotes clear.

"For me," Marc admitted. "Now, come." He hung up the towel and offered her his hand, and she sighed before taking it and letting him lead her out of the bathroom, down the stairs from his bedroom, to the main floor where she found that his living room space in the open concept area had a half dozen candles lit, cozy looking blankets on the floor between the couches and chairs, and a silver platter tray on the coffee table. He had a red wine already poured into glasses, and fucking chocolate covered strawberries.

"You know you're supposed to seduce mebefore the sex, right?" Sinead snorted as she sat down on the blankets, leaning back against the foot of the couch.

Marc handed her one of the glasses of wine. "This is much more fun," he said.

"'Fun,'" she repeated her deadpan joke from upstairs.

That was when she realised that Marc was wearing a pair of briefs as he sat down, and she was still naked. "Uh, excuse me," she said, gesturing at the briefs. "I think you might be a little overdressed."

Marc flashed her the fucking smile. "Detective, I would like to point out that the female form ismuch more visually appealing when it comes to casual nudity than the male form. We havedangling bits."

That made Sinead snort, covering her mouth with the back of her hand for a second to stop from laughing further, and then taking a sip of her wine. "Mmmm," she groaned. It was fuckinggood. Which probably meant he'd paid way more than she would have for it.

"Take a bite of our snack first, then a sip," Marc suggested, doing so himself.

Sinead felt like, if she hadn't had who knows how many orgasms upstairs, the combo of the wine, strawberries and chocolate could have pushed her over the edge.

"You're a real fucking bastard, you know?" she mumbled, leaning back and stretching without a care that she was putting a show on for him. Or maybe caring a bit too much. She wasn't even sure of how she was still feeling.

"Perhaps you should find something else to call me?" Marc chuckled. "I'm not in love with being called a 'fucking bastard' or 'French fuck.'"

Sinead smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. "I'll consider it," she said. "Now, what's all thisabout?"

"Why, ma petite rebelle," Marc said. "The case! What else would we talk about when we've already taken care of sex, food and wine?"

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Thanks so much for reading! Votes and Comments both go a long way to letting me AND the commissioner know that you are enjoying the story. In case you are interested, ThL also commissions character art for the ladies of Le Français.

Reminder: Le Français will jump around in categories so make sure to give a follow to ensure you'll see the next instalments!

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