Le Français Pt. 06 - Sex Stories

Le Français Pt. 06

... feeling his strong hand in hers.

He didn't respond, and that made the little pit in her stomach grow a bit. Then Marc offered his arm, and she held it as they walked through the underground parking to the elevator in silence except for the sound of her heels on the concrete. Marc thumbed the call button and they waited. Sinead opened her mouth slightly, wanting to say something, but not knowing what to say. She didn't want to apologise to him, that was for damn sure. And she hated that she felt like maybe she should.

The softding of the elevator arriving knocked her out of her own head and Marc led her into the small, enclosed space. Sinead took a breath as she turned to face the door, but Marc thumbed the Close Doors button and then held the Stop button.

"Detective," he said, his voice deepening a bit back towards that one he'd used in the coat room. "Tonight I thought we were having fun. A beautiful dress, a fancy party, good food and drink. I intended to be a perfect gentleman, and we could have our little adventure. But tonight you acted like a brat."

"Marc-" Sinead said, her voice firm. She wasn't some child to be scolded. But as soon as he held up a hand, one finger ordering her to wait, she stopped.

"I'm not interested in having fun with a brat, Detective," he said. "A brat thinks she's better than the people around her. A brat thinks she deserves things that she hasn't earned, and says things that she knows will be hurtful just for the sake of a tiny ...

... endorphin hit. Brats have no self-control, no impulse control. I'm not interested in a brat, I'm interested in real, adult women."

"I'm-" Sinead started, but hesitated again. She didnot want to apologise to him.

"Brats also don't deserve nice gifts," Marc said. "Not when they can't behave themselves. So, Sinead, I think you should give me back my gift."

Sinead frowned. He hadn't given her anything except the USB drive with the data for her case, and there was no way she was handing that back when she'd already blown him in payment. But looking into his eyes, Sinead realised that wasn't what he was talking about.

The dress.

She swallowed, glancing down at herself. She was wearing her leather jacket, her heels, her own thong, and the buttplug. Other than the dress.

Sinead clenched her jaw, looking back up at Marc. "I'm sorry," she said. "I was being a bitch."

Marc pursed his lips slightly, nodding just a little. "Merci," he said. "Now please, Detective. The dress."

Sinead swallowed. He was still holding the Stop button on the elevator and it was buzzing softly. She was stuck in there with him, not that she felt like he was physically threatening her. When she took it off, she wouldn't be naked. Her coat covered down to her waist. Her ass and legs would be out, but that wasn't the worst.

What were the chances he'd stop them on the first floor and ask her to leave, sending her out into the cold like that? The part of her that was so fucking frustrated ...