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“What are you doing to me?”
“Naughty things to a naughty girl,” he said, grabbing my cheeks firmly, widening the area he was pleasuring. He bent to take me in, all tongue now, slow and languid. The wicked sensations pounded through my whole body. I was pulsating, engorged, on the cusp of coming without him even going near my usual places. Oh god.
“Do you like that?”
Half delirious, I could only answer with a sound. Then I heard a drawer open in the table beneath me, the crackling of a condom packet.
“Turn around, Dauphine. I want to look at your beautiful face while I fuck you senseless.”
And I did, in a trance now, eagerly flipping around to face his perfect torso. I had never seen a man built like him before, ripples on top of muscles, hairless, made just for this.
I propped myself up on my elbows, boldly watching as he unspooled the condom. He yanked my hips down to the edge of the table, teasing my cleft with his slickened head, inching it inside of me, then out again, never taking his eyes off me. He stopped every few seconds so I could yield to his thickness, helped by his wetted fingers across my clitoris. When he was fully inside, I collapsed back on the table, his hands now caressing my breasts, freed from the bra. My nipples responded, tightening under his touch. When he saw how turned on I was, he moved with greater urgency. I reached back and grabbed the other edge of the table for better leverage and then we became a blur of frantic thrusts. Oh yeah. So good.
Then came the first wave, as his thrusts found my sweet spot deep behind my pelvis, and I lost it, my arms flung behind my head, bringing my wall down, letting go of that residual fear. Our eyes met just at the apex when my orgasm struck hot and fierce, then his did too as he pumped me hard and fast, murmuring, “This is all for you, Dauphine. This is for you.”
He jerked and shuddered at the end, but remained in me and above me, coated with a gorgeous sheen of sweat, as I clenched and spasmed around him. Slowly my breathing steadied.
He smiled. Laughed.
“Wow,” he said.
“Did you get … all the information … you needed, Officer?”
“Yes, and then some. Now I have something for you.”
He eased out, then bent down to take something from one of the pockets of his uniform pants, which were lying on the floor by his feet. When he rose, he was dangling a gleaming charm between a thumb and forefinger.
“What does it say?” I asked, still splayed across the table.
“Courage. And rightfully so, Miss Mason.”
He shot the charm into the air with his thumb like a coin, letting it fall on my damp stomach. Then he slapped a hand over it.
“Heads or tails?”
“What do I get if I call it?” I asked.
“Anything you want, Miss Mason.”
“Tails.”
He slowly lifted his hand from my stomach and peeked beneath it.
“Well, what do you know,” he said.
His eyes scanned my body, and he lowered himself to kiss the charm on my belly. Farther down he went and I closed my eyes. His mouth worked me into another fever, bringing me back to that incredible precipice, that ecstasy, then letting me fall over it again.
Afterwards, I lay on the table, my fingers entwined in his thick golden hair, his breath on my stomach, my other hand dangling over the side of the table, clutching Courage in my palm.
CASSIE
I ASKED MATILDA for a last-minute meeting a few days after Dauphine’s cop fantasy. Being her Guide meant spending less time with my own, but my one-night stand with Mark had left me feeling a little off.
As she made her way to where I was sitting in Audubon Park, she looked the picture of Southern gentility. She had on a straw hat, dark glasses and an off-the-shoulder coral-colored sundress that showed off her red hair and the smattering of freckles across her smooth décolleté. She was nearing sixty but looked as fresh and sexy as someone half her age. And by the way she walked, you could tell she knew entrances were her particular talent. It was her idea to meet near the pickup soccer pitch by the Saint Charles entrance. She moved towards the bench, and even the players during a breakaway had to stop to take her in.
As we sat together, I caught her up on Dauphine, explaining how she was learning to give over control.
“That’s a tough one, control,” Matilda said, eyeing the soccer game. “Too much and you never allow yourself to know others. Too little and you never truly know yourself. How about you, Cassie, how are you faring out there in the wilds?”
