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Five Nights in Paris

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Holly Mitchell's college education included a strange curriculum; learning the ropes of submission and how to please her Master properly. Now nearly seven years later she's heading back to the city that she once had to run away from, and the man that she left behind. How will she handle having to confront her worst fears and falling for him all over again?

Romance / Erotica
Karienne McGuire
4.8 5 reviews
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

Holly, Present day

“Holly, you can’t still be sitting there.”

I looked up to see Mya standing in the doorway to my room. Sometimes you just want to lounge in your sweats, it’s not a crime. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a knot, and I noticed that she had pulled her ‘getting laid’ dress out - skin-tight, beige, and short enough to be a top, from a distance you might think she was naked. She looked gorgeous, but nowhere near as comfy as my sweatpants and a tank top.

“Generally, that’s what you do when you have the day off unless you know something I don’t,” I said happily, reaching for another handful of popcorn.

“We’re going out, remember? This took forever to put together and I won’t have you lying around all night.” As she spoke she stomped over to my closet, stepping over the scattered piles of clothes.

I ignored her and went back to watching my laptop screen, I had plenty of time to get ready. I heard Mya bitching about my dirty room, and I rolled my eyes, I’d clean it when I wasn’t unwinding from graduation - or when my DVR wasn’t full.

“Seriously Holly, I better not catch you staining the carpet with paint, I actually want the security deposit back,” she grumbled from the closet.

“Well it’s a little late for that, there’s a half-used jug of bleach on the top shelf from the last time I spilled…” And two empty jugs in the dumpster outside.

The towel being thrown at my head caught me off guard and I laughed, shutting my laptop. Mya sat down on the edge of my bed and draped my black micro dress across the lilac duvet, smoothing it out.

“If you shower and start getting ready now, we can be at La Belle by 10:30 and I will be plastered by 11,” she said, staring at me with that look, the puppy eyes. “Please, it’s gonna be fun!”

I heaved a heavy sigh and pushed off the bed, ignoring her entirely as I wandered into the bathroom. The water was hot and soothing, I wouldn’t admit that to Mya though - you tell she’s right once and she’ll never let you live it down. It gave me time to think about graduation and my new job with NEXT. Graduation was a Godsend, three grueling years behind me and now I was finally getting to see the pay off; a fancy piece of paper with a seal and my name on it. It doesn’t sound that great when you put it like that. I chided myself, it didn’t matter what the actual physical reward was, now I was officially an educated adult heading back into the workforce. My stomach lurched at the thought, but it wouldn’t shake my pride. NEXT magazine had offered me an upgrade from my internship, and I was supposed to start my new assistant position tomorrow. It wasn’t exactly what I wanted to do forever, but it was something to get me started.

I spent as long as I figured I could get away with in the shower before she would personally barge in and drag me out by my hair. I wrapped the towel around my chest, set some music up on my phone and left it perched precariously on the cabinet above the toilet. I took a second to wrap my hair up to dry and checked the time, 9:37 - I had to move fast if I was going to be ready for just after ten. I wiped the mirror off with one hand and reached for my toothbrush, when I met my own eyes in the mirror I tried not to focus on the circles under them, it had been a hell of a semester and it showed. Dark blue eyes stared back at me with disinterest, wondering why I was bothering to even go this far, it wasn’t like I was bringing someone home. Whatever, this was the cleanest I had been all weekend, I couldn’t really complain.

Mya was pleased to see me dressed, made up, and even wearing heels by 10:15, and only with mild complaints on my part about the whole ordeal. I liked getting dressed up, but right now I just wanted to relax and bask in the glory of my accomplishments, and the sound of housewives backstabbing each other.

“You look great! Come on, it’ll be super fun, I promise,” she said happily. “And your tits are practically up to your chin, you won’t have to worry about paying for drinks.”

I snorted and adjusted the top of the dress; it had been far longer at one point - just above the knees - but now, thanks to my terrible laundry abilities, it only just covered my ass. The midsection was mostly sheer with structured boning for shape, and the top a deep princess cut. It was a choice to either flash some ass cheek or a nip slip, I chose the butt cheek since I figured that was the classier route, no need for a Janet Jackson mishap. My hair was in its best state; black waves were blown out, hitting my lower back. I had gone all out with the makeup - the blood-red lipstick practically glowed against the beginnings of my summer tan. I fiddled around with putting my earrings in while Mya flounced around the living room, picking up her purse and jacket before giving our large orange tabby a kiss on the head.

“Be good, Bowie,” she cooed against his fur.

I followed her out the door, my leather moto jacket in hand, trying to brace myself for the night to come. We took the elevator down and I pulled on my jacket as we stepped out into the cool night air. The walk was brisk, I spent most of it reminiscing about graduation to Mya. It still felt unreal, like a dream. As we rounded another corner a massive high rise came into view; the top had a large neon pink sign proclaiming La Belle. In the distance I saw the group waiting for us with someone upfront waving, I glanced at Mya and wrapped my arm around her shoulders in a side hug. I might have to work in the morning, but it felt good to have someone throw you a party.

La Belle was packed, all three floors, every VIP room, and the rooftop - completely full. I had no idea how Mya had even secured our entry to this place, let alone several other guests, but I was in awe of her power. The dance floor had been my haven for most of the night, taking solace in mindless dancing and strangers doing body shots. Damian had been dancing with me for a while, but I pawned him off to a very happy looking Mya while I went back out. The group stayed upstairs, relaxing in a mini rooftop cabana she rented for the night. The strobe lights were making the room spin, and I was more than a little tipsy. Heels really are more comfortable when you drink. My feet would hate me in the morning but right now I was glad that I was here, gyrating with rich strangers, and not paying a dime for drinks. I grabbed a drink off a tray as a waitress walked by, it tasted like a jolly rancher mixed with cough syrup and glowed under the black lights, but I really didn’t care. I felt hands on my waist, I turned, meeting the heated gaze of what could only be described as an Abercrombie and Finch model. His dark stubble and eyes that changed color with every flash of the lights made me grin back and grind up against him. I wrapped my arms around his neck as we danced, or dry humped really. His mouth found my throat and I moaned, throwing my head back and losing myself in the sensation. I could almost pretend it was him. When Abercrombie’s lips met mine, I pulled back in revulsion, his tongue was like a thick tentacle trying to worm its way down my throat. I pulled myself away and found my way back upstairs to the cabana despite his protests, wobbling slightly and trying not to spill my drink on the stairs.

“What is that?” Mya asked, reaching out for my glass.

“No idea,” I said as I handed it to her. “Are you two going to be anti-social for the rest of the night?”

Damian snorted. “We’re chatting, that’s not anti-social.” He slouched back in the padded chair; his arm thrown over the back.

Mya gazed at Damian longingly and I tried not to roll my eyes. They could’ve passed for siblings, both blond, with amber eyes, and pale ivory skin. But they had been off and on for the past year, right now they were off, but Mya was still pining.

I rolled my eyes at him. “Yeah, by yourselves. Lame. Where’d everyone go?”

“Jodi and Tyler left to hit up some celebrity party a few minutes ago, and I think Peter went home with some chick.” Mya snickered. “When you start getting pounding headaches from crowds and loud music, then you’ll understand why we’re being so ‘anti-social’.”

“Speak for yourself, I’m thirty, not fifty.” Damian glowered at her from over his glass.

I leaned back and crossed my legs, turning to him. “Do you want to go get us some drinks, Damian?”

He groaned but left to find drinks anyway. I turned my attention to Mya, trying to find the words to express my gratitude. “I have no idea how you put all this together, but thanks, Mya. It’s a huge deal.”

She smiled warmly at me as she spoke, “Don’t worry about it, Hol. You planned the party when I finished my masters, I figured it was only fair to return the favor.” She paused, waving happily at someone who walked by. “Are you excited about tomorrow?”

I nodded and shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I mean sort of, more nervous than anything. It’s a lot to take in…”

“It’ll be fine, you did well in the newsroom, fashion can’t be that much different.” I gave her an ‘are-you-fucking-kidding-me’ look and she laughed before continuing, “Alright well you like clothes, and you never followed the news, so honestly, it should be miles better. And if you need help you can always call your sister--”

“I am so not calling her,” I interrupted. “I don’t need that right now.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, then focus on the fact that you’ll meet new people. Maybe you’ll meet someone, anything would be an improvement over the last guy--”

“Oh God, that Josh guy? You aren’t still fucking him, are you?” Damian asked, rejoining us with several rounds of shots.

I groaned. “He wasn’t that bad!” I downed a shot of Patron with a grimace. Okay maybe he was, but I don’t need my love life ridiculed right now.

“Right, Adrien was worse,” Mya said with a snort.

I stared down at my glass, the air sucked out of my lungs and suddenly I wished I was at home in bed. There was nothing wrong with Adrien. I could hear the two of them still chatting and laughing together but I couldn’t make myself join them. It stung to hear her talking shit about Adrien.

“Hol?” Damian asked. Worry laced his voice.

I jolted and looked up, guilty. “Sorry?”

“We wanted to know if you were up to grab some pizza?” Mya cocked her head, her eyes narrow and frowning at me.

“Actually, I’m not feeling so hot. I’ll meet you back home, okay?” I offered her a forced smile. I didn’t want to sit there watching the two of them get all flirty while I lamented my romantic failings.

I hugged them both and said goodbye, watching them climb into a cab while trying to hide the fact that they were all over each other. The walk home was warm and loud, the roar of traffic and people yelling made me feel more lonely than usual. I wrapped my arms around myself when a group of guys made lewd comments from across the street and I quickened my pace. I chewed my thumbnail anxiously, I hated thinking about Adrien, it always led to masturbation or crying. Usually both. I jogged up the steps to the apartment and rode the extremely cramped elevator to the eighth floor. Inside, the dark living room was even lonelier; shadows danced on the wall and Bowie was nowhere to be seen, probably in Mya’s room. I kicked my shoes off and threw my jacket on the couch before I checked the time, almost 3. I was going to be so tired in the morning. I sighed and went to my room, unzipping my dress and tossing my phone on my messy bed. I couldn’t stop thinking about Adrien now, and in the alcohol-induced haze, my mind kept wandering to sex. I laid on the cool satin sheets, staring at the ceiling as I felt warmth spread throughout my abdomen. I closed my eyes and surrendered, letting my hand slip down between my legs as I thought about him.

“You’re such a good girl, chaton.” He moaned, wrapping my hair around one fist.

I looked up at him, tears streaming down my face, my mouth stretched to the limit with his cock, and my nose pressed up against his groin. His pubic hair was scratchy on my face, but I would never complain. My hands were tied behind back, I couldn’t be trusted not to push him away if they weren’t. I loved this feeling, completely helpless, and entirely his to use. I hoped he could see how much I loved being his good girl. He pulled me back until it was just a bit more than the tip left in my mouth, I sucked on it eagerly, hoping to prove myself to be a good little cocksucker. He groaned and I felt his grip tighten on my hair, his other hand threading through it as well.

“I’m going to come in your mouth, and you aren’t to swallow it until I say so. Understood?” His tone sent an electric shock straight to my clit.

“Mm-hm,” I moaned around him.

It only took him another minute or so of him fucking my mouth before I saw his chest shiver and felt his cock pulsate. I gagged slightly as his release hit the back of my throat, but I did as he said and made sure not to swallow yet. He pulled me off him and the tip dragged down my chin, leaving a trail of his fluid behind. He panted for a second before he jerked my head back to look up at him.

“Let me see, open your mouth.”

I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out slightly for effect, allowing some of his release to drip of my tongue and down onto my breasts. He smirked and I felt my heart flutter.

“You’re such a good slut, now swallow for me.”

I moaned as my fingers strummed my clit faster, desperately trying to bring myself to the edge. I panted and arched my back, my hand twisting my nipple painfully as I whimpered. Waves of subdued pleasure radiated from my pussy and I huffed, pulling my hand away from my swollen nub and reaching desperately for the vibrator in my drawer. With a shaky breath, I turned it on and almost jumped out of my skin as it met my overly sensitive flesh. I twisted my nipple hard and cried out as I got closer, wetness seeping out of me onto the sheets as I went back into my fantasy.

“Right there!” I cried out, grinding my hips down on his.

He pulled on the chain attaching my nipple clamps and I fell forward - bracing my hand on his chest as I panted, my hair hung down around me - shielding me from his view. It didn’t last long; he grabbed my wrist and forced my arm behind my back. My tits stung painfully, the ache between my legs was only getting worse, and now I was going to be punished. I blinked down at him, green eyes glittered back at me in amusement. He suddenly sat up, holding me in place as his mouth met my ear.

“You don’t get to decide when you come,” he growled. “I do.”

I shivered and swallowed hard; he really didn’t want to make this easy for me. He leaned his head down and licked up my throat to my jaw before biting lightly. I closed my eyes and tried to force myself to just enjoy the sensations, the smell of his cologne, and the way I felt stretched like never before. I could almost forget how close I was to coming. Almost.

He released my arm suddenly and pushed me back hard on the mattress, I yelped in shock but was cut off when his hand clamped around my neck.

He glared down at me. “If you won’t be quiet, I’ll be forced to find a gag for you, Holly. And since I don’t have much on short notice it will either be your panties or my tie.”

My eyes got wide and I nodded. He shifted us again so that my legs were over his hips and his cock rubbing on my clit just enough to make me try and push back on him. I realized what a mistake that was when he jerked on the chain again. I clenched my jaw and squeezed my eyes shut, desperate to keep quiet. He teased my opening, barely pushing the tip in before pulling back to rub it along my sensitive nub and slick folds. I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please, Adrien--” My voice shook as I choked out my words.

In an instant, he slammed back into me, and I saw stars, my mouth fell open in a silent scream. He tilted my hips up slightly, this time when he thrust into me the head of his cock pushed right against the sweet spot before it hit my cervix. The cry that came from me wasn’t silent this time as my legs shook and I felt like I was about to go over the edge. His hand moved instantly from my neck to my mouth, cutting me off mid-scream.

“Clearly I’ll need to keep a proper gag on hand,” he said dryly.

Keeping his hand on my mouth he reached over my head to my discarded panties. I expected him to gag me then, but he didn’t. Instead, he forced me on to my stomach and gave my ass a hard slap. I cringed against the blanket from the sting, but before I could do anything else, he jerked my head back by a fist full of hair and forced my balled-up panties into my mouth. I felt horribly embarrassed having my own underwear in my mouth, made worse by the fact that I knew how wet I had been before they had come off. But some twisted part of me wanted him to humiliate me more, to call me names and do horribly degrading things to me.

He released my hair, opting to restrain my arms by holding my wrists together behind my back. Once again, I felt his cock head teasing my pussy before he thrust hard into me. I wailed again, this time muffled by the panties, as he brutally fucked me into the mattress. In mere seconds my legs were shaking, and I was clenching hard on his shaft. I couldn’t stop it if I tried and every nerve felt like it was on fire. My eyes burned and I tried to choke back my sob as I felt a sudden flood of wetness on my thighs.

“Then again, those panties look so good in your mouth I might have to use them again.”

My orgasm rocked me hard, the tremors made the muscles in my abdomen contract almost painfully. I pulled the toy back instantly, yelping at the speed sending another rush of pleasure that was painful on my abused clit. I laid back on the bed and groaned, rubbing my eyes in frustration as I felt the after-orgasm guilt creeping up on me.

It had been seven years, and I still thought about him, fantasized about him. I sat up and grimaced at the wet spot on the bed. Now I really have to do laundry. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and pulled on my robe as I made my way to the living room. Bowie was sleeping on the couch and I scratched his head fondly as I curled up beside him. He stretched and meowed at me as I turned the TV on.

“I know buddy, but you’re just going to have to share for the night,” I mumbled, resting my head on him.

He let out a quiet huff but didn’t move. He made a nice pillow.

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