Le Français

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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 commissioned by the fantastic ThL!

In this chapter you can expect mild submissive training, D/s oral, and fingering.

Sinead strikes a deal with Marc and pays the price for what she wants.

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Chapter 8

Sinead was distracted, and Jules knew it.

"Get your head out of your ass, girl," her partner said. "That or take the day off. You are seriously bugging out."

"Fuck, sorry," Sinead grumbled, shaking her head. They were supposed to be investigating a strong-arm robbery but had run out of leads fairly quickly since it had happened the night before in a dark area, and the mugger had been wearing a mask and gloves. Their only useful piece of information was that it was a he, and he was white. They were down to canvassing the area for witnesses and Jules had been taking the lead as usual since Sinead was known to be the abrasive one. She was still supposed to be paying attention though.

"Is it what the Captain said this morning?" Jules asked as they walked down the sidewalk towards the next house in the neighbourhood. The hope was that even if someone hadn't seen something, there would be a security or doorbell camera that someone could give them access to.

"Well, obviously," Sinead sighed. "Apparently I'm a fucking failure if I can't pull magic out of my ass on this. 'Come on Connors, every CI on the street says something is about to happen. Shit or get off the pot.'" She mimicked the gruff voice of their Captain pretty well.

"Well, maybe you

should

take a step back from it. Let someone else take a crack," Jules said. "That or work that tight little ass."

"What?" Sinead said, glancing at her partner in shock and a bit of panic. How did she know about Marc!?

"And pull magic out of it," Jules said, stopping before they headed up to the next house. "Seriously, Sinead. What is going on with you?"

"Nothing, nothing," Sinead said. "Let's just do this work, OK? My head is scrambled with all the numbers and I need to focus on something other than the pressure."

"Alright. Think you can handle this one without tearing someone's head off?"

"Probably," Sinead said, thinking more of tearing Marc a new one than anything else. She couldn't

believe

what he'd proposed.

The problem was the Captain's voice was still ringing in her ears, and she could

taste

how close she was to cracking the case and figuring out how the money was being moved around.

'Shit or get off the pot.'

Right. She needed to do... something.

- - - - -

She flashed her badge at the front desk, which got her to the elevators. It helped that she knew her way already. The last time she'd been in the building she'd been on a mission and hadn't noticed the little things. The elevator was spotless, even the stainless steel around the buttons was completely smudge-free. It was also tastefully decorated without being garish like some conference hotel; it screamed

real

money.

Up on the 35th floor there was another secretary, but Sinead didn't stop to check in and strutted past with a purpose.

"Excuse me?" the woman, a sleek blonde thing that probably flirted with the clients, said. "Miss? Miss!"

Sinead stuck out like a sore thumb here, even wearing her decent sports jacket and slacks. Everyone here was in suits or immaculate, business-appropriate dresses and she had a t-shirt on under her blazer and her shoes were lacking about 3 inches of heels. She ignored the click-clacking of the secretary rushing after her as she made a bee-line to the back of the offices.

Marc, of course, saw her coming through the glass wall of his office. He was speaking to a couple of people sitting in the chairs in front of his desk.

"I need to speak with you," Sinead said, pushing through the glass door without knocking.

"Of course, Detective," Marc smiled softly. "I'll be with you momentarily."

"No, I need to speak with you

now

," Sinead demanded.

Marc's face grew... she wasn't sure how to describe it. Somehow he got colder even though nothing changed and she felt like she could sense his dissatisfaction with her. It was a

weird

feeling. "I understand, Detective," he said. "You can wait outside until I am finished."

"...Fine," Sinead had to say. She didn't have a warrant. She wasn't even really supposed to

be

there. She stepped back outside and wanted to slam the glass door, but it resisted her and smoothly closed. Marc waved to the secretary, who left Sinead alone. And then she just stood there. Waiting. With an office worth of people watching her stew. She desperately hoped she wasn't flushed, cause she was definitely feeling embarrassed. She came here to give him an answer and he made her

wait

?

And God, was he taking his time or something? Marc went back to his conversation, and Sinead stewed in her annoyance as the two people in the chair actually laughed at something he said. He kept her waiting for almost ten minutes before the two in the chairs stood up and Marc walked them to the door. They left, not even looking at Sinead.

"Alright, Detective. I'm free for a moment. Please come in," he said, gesturing her into his office. He shut the door behind her. "What can I do for you?"

"I need you to tell me exactly what you want," Sinead said.

Marc raised an eyebrow and looked her up and down, clearly suspicious.

Sinead grunted and rolled her eyes, pulling her phone out of her jacket and showing him it wasn't recording before setting it on his desk. Then she untucked her t-shirt from her slacks and tried to casually lift it enough to show she wasn't wearing a wire. If she

was

, she wouldn't have been so stupid as to use something he could spot easily, but this wasn't something she wanted any proof of even in her own position.

"I want one hour," Marc said.

"One hour of

what

, Marc?" Sinead asked. "What am I agreeing to?"

Marc gave her one of those infuriating smiles of his. "One hour of sexual surrender to me. Sixty minutes. I promise it won't be anything heinous."

"Thirty minutes," she countered. "And I say what we do."

"What would be the point of that?" Marc asked. "One hour. That's the price. I assume you've been sexually active in the past, and it won't be anything you wouldn't have done before. I can be adventurous, but I'm not looking to make you uncomfortable."

Sinead pursed her lips, trying not to sneer. "Fine," she finally said. "One... Fuck, one hour. At your place. No filming it or anything."

"Agreed," Marc nodded. "Come to my apartment tomorrow at 7 PM and bring a clean STD test. I'll provide you with the same."

"What about the work?" she asked.

"Send me the files at your convenience," Marc said. "Now, I

am

a busy man, Detective. If you don't mind?" He gestured for the door.

Sinead let him usher her out of the office, and he shut the door after her and went back to his desk. She walked out, less sure of herself than when she'd come in.

She'd just agreed to...

God. What a mess.

Chapter 9

Blowing out a breath, Sinead tapped the folded paper against her thumb as she sat in her car looking up at the apartment building.

"What the fuck am I doing?" she asked herself.

Going to get the test had been agonisingly embarrassing. Not that there was anything

wrong

with getting an STD test, it was the reason that she was getting it that made her stomach knot up.

Am I really doing this?

She thought to herself.

She was stuck between a rock and a hard place on the case. Or it felt that way, at least. Maybe it was that Irish blood that her father had always said she'd inherited even though her family hadn't set foot on Irish soil for a good century. She

could

just walk away. Someone else would find something else about Le Français at some point. No criminal network could last forever.

But the trail was going cold, and God she wanted to grab this tiger by the tail and try to wrestle it.

This, though...

Marc was an attractive man. She'd recognized it when she'd first seen him. Sinead couldn't deny that she might have been willing to hook up with him under different circumstances. And this was only one time, for one specific goal. It wasn't wrong, it was... expedient.

"God, fuck," she grunted and got out of her car before she could circle back on herself. She was cutting it close to being late and Marc wasn't the kind of guy who was wishy-washy on timing.

The fact that she recognized that and felt herself care about it, even a little, made her stomach knot a little bit again.

She went up to the floor where his loft was and rang the doorbell, and he answered dressed in one of those suits that were cut so well on his frame. They were probably ridiculously expensive, but they looked good. His black hair was perfectly quaffed just like every time she'd seen him, and it looked like he might have freshly shaved the stubble on his cheeks.

"Detective," he said. "Come in, please."

She stepped in and felt like one weight had lifted from her shoulders but another had settled in her chest. The decision was made. She was here. She was doing this.

Sinead followed Marc to his kitchen, where he reached for an envelope on that expansive kitchen island he had and he handed it to her. "As promised, so you know we can have some good, clean fun."

"Same," Sinead said, handing him her folded test results and then opening the envelope. She scanned down the printout quickly. He didn't have anything.

"Lovely," Marc said, smiling softly as he checked her paper and then re-folded it and set it down. "I find, when engaging with a new partner even for a short time, it's best to put things out in the open for everyone's comfort. No judgement intended, of course. I don't know what sort of sexual history you have."

"I'm divorced," Sinead said and wasn't sure why she blurted it out. "I mean, I'm not seeing anyone regularly. There's been a couple of casual hookups since then, but nothing major."

"I wasn't asking, Sinead," Marc said with that fucking smile of his. "Though I appreciate the honesty."

"So what now?" Sinead asked, leaning back into her frustration at him, and at herself, to try and ground her. "We head up to your bed and get busy?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. He stepped around the kitchen island and opened his laptop before turning it to her. "As I said, I find everyone being comfortable to be very important when headed into a sexual encounter. I've finished my analysis and I believe it should fill in some answers for you."

"You've finished already?" Sinead asked, stepping forward and leaning down to scan through his write-up.

"You gave me the where," he said. "I just had the how. You should be able to pick up the mastermind behind the financial firewall system whenever you can get your warrant."

"This is big," Sinead muttered. Marc had pinpointed a few new names associated with the money and even a physical address for the IP that a lot of the orders were routed through. One of the names was highlighted with a note that they worked for a bank. "This is really big."

"Happy to be of service," Marc said.

"What now, then?" Sinead asked, standing back up. Part of her wanted to slam the laptop closed and run out of there with it. But she knew that would be wrong. She'd already backed out on one deal with Marc, if she did it again...

If she did it again, nothing would happen. He couldn't exactly report it. She would take what she'd learned and life would go on.

But it felt wrong.

"Now, I'm going to set this timer," Marc said, walking into his kitchen and taking an egg timer out of a drawer and bringing it over to show her. It was a stupid little yellow chick with a bright red timer front on it, and he twisted it all the way around to mark 60 minutes and it started ticking. "One hour."

"One hour," Sinead agreed. She felt like her stomach and her heart were trying to switch places inside her, but even more confusing was that she could also feel herself getting horny.

"Now that we've started, Sinead," Marc said. "I think first you should undress me."

"Really?" Sinead asked. She'd been expecting that

she

would be the naked one.

"Detective, if you're going to question everything, this hour is going to be a lot more tedious than it needs to be," Marc said.

"Sorry," she said and hated that she felt the need to apologize. He was practically blackmailing her for this, for crying out loud!

"You may begin," Marc said and spread his arms out a little bit.

Sinead hesitated, but reached for his tie. It was silk, of course, and there was a tiny part of her that wanted to just yank it tight and run. But she didn't. She pulled it loose, her fingers running over the fabric of it, and then folded it neatly and set it on the kitchen island. Then she started on the buttons of his shirt. He had chest hair, though she'd known that from the time he'd been wearing his robe when she came here. His chest was also nicely defined without being overly muscled and fit - he kept himself in shape. Sinead unbuttoned down to his stomach before realizing that she should have taken his suit jacket off.

He smiled as she went behind him and helped him out of it.

Fuck that smile!

Chapter 10

Undressing Marc was a process. His cufflinks had to come off, and then she had to untuck his shirt to finish unbuttoning it. He had nice arms, a little hairy but not a gorilla, and strong shoulders. She took off his shoes, feeling silly kneeling in front of him, and then his socks which were an annoyingly silly pair with little karate-kicking figures embroidered into them.

She stood back up and looked him in the eye as she quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled it out of its loops, then undid his pants and let them drop down his legs. She hesitated at his briefs, her fingers just grazing their elastic waist, as she glared up into his eyes.

Damn you

, she thought at him.

Damn you for making me want this somehow.

She dropped to her knees again, pulling his briefs with her, and tried to ignore his cock as she got them and his pants off his legs. She stood back up, folded the clothes, and set them with the rest on the kitchen island. She didn't intend to look at it, but a glance down had her lingering.

He had an uncut cock. She'd never been with a guy who wasn't circumcised. It looked odd to her but also sent a little thrill of want through her to figure it out. It was also a good size.

"Very nice, Detective," Marc said softly, and Sinead realized she'd been staring and blinked, looking up at him and then over at the egg timer. Almost five minutes gone.

"What now?" she asked.

"Now I think it's your turn," Marc said, always with that fucking smile that made her so fucking mad.

"Fine," she said. She stripped herself, trying to make it as unsexy as possible. She did it quickly, forcing herself not to hesitate. Willing herself to just get it done. She didn't bother folding her clothes like she had his - she'd done it with his automatically because they were so

nice

, but her's were just normal clothes. They would have ended up on the floor of her apartment if she were at home, eventually making it into a clothes hamper in a couple of days.

She was naked. Her tits were out. She wanted to cover herself, to put a hand in front of her to block his view, but that felt like she would be showing him weakness. Like she would be ceding him power in this. So she stood with her fingers curled nervously but her hands at her side as he just

looked

at her. His eyes travelled all over her, lingering in this way like he was appreciating some statue in a museum or something. It made her skin crawl, but she didn't think it was from being creeped out. It made her feel... It felt odd, but it made her feel valued. Like he was appraising her and she was worth something surprising.

He took a moment to step around her and Sinead stiffened a little, but he didn't touch her. He just kept looking at her. Examining her.

Sinead knew her ass was her best feature. It was firm and tight and she worked to keep it that way, along with her legs. She'd always been a runner. In comparison her tits were small, and depending on the time of the month could be almost non-existent.

"You are absolutely stunning," Marc said gently as he stepped back around her. "Truly, Sinead. You're entirely beautiful."

She didn't know how to respond to that, so she didn't and just bit the inside of her cheek. "What now?" she asked, glancing over at the clock. Getting naked had only taken a minute, but he'd just looked at her for longer. Almost ten minutes down now.

"Now, Sinead," Marc said. "I want you to kneel."

"To suck your cock?" she asked.

"Eventually," Marc said. "But first I need to see if you can kneel properly."

What the fuck did that mean?

She thought. Sinead went down to her knees, looking up at him like he was crazy.

Marc tutted and shook his head a little. "That's what I thought," he said.

"What? There's a problem with how I kneel?" Sinead asked.

"Yes, actually," Marc said. He went down on one knee next to her, his casualness about his own nudity somehow frustrating her even more as his cock just hung there. "First, Detective, you'll be much more comfortable if you spread your knees just slightly." And then he touched her for the first time. It wasn't a grope, or a soft pet, or a squeeze. He simply pressed his flattened hand between her knees, which were firmly pressed together, and she naturally spread her legs until they were maybe two inches apart. The tension left them once she wasn't pressing them together with her nerves.

"Good," Marc said, then reached behind her and softly put his hand on the small of her back. "Now straighten up here. Your posture is horrible."

Sinead wanted to grumble but did what he asked. It was nothing to question, really. She

did

have bad posture. She sat up, straightening her lower back, which also brought her shoulders up and back a little.

"Better," Marc nodded. "Now, loosen your shoulders." She did. "Good. And your hands can rest here." He took her hands and placed them on top of her thighs. "How does that feel?"

"Comfortable, I guess," Sinead said. "I mean, my ankles will probably ache at some point, but it's comfortable."

"Well, you won't be like this for too long," Marc smiled that fucking smile. He stood and ran two fingers through her hair, pulling it back over her ear. Then he turned and walked away from her, his firm ass weaving away deeper into his apartment until he was in the comfortable sitting area underneath his lofted bedroom. He sat in a comfortable-looking chair. "Come to me," he said.

Sinead went to stand, but Marc held up a hand. "Ah," he said. "Come to me." Just the way he said it made her flush with embarrassment as she knew what he wanted. She leaned forward and started to crawl towards him on her hands and knees.

Chapter 11

Marc was walking a knife's edge with Sinead. If he pushed too hard, she would baulk and the game would end. If he pushed too little she would try to grab the upper hand again and the game would change. She was stubborn, and fiery, and God was she gorgeous. She was like a sleek redheaded nymph, a wild thing that he should have found out in the forests somewhere.

Sinead's breasts were small, and he had become very used to the natural expanse of breasts that Felicity offered him to play with, but Sinead was something new and different. He didn't mind at all that they were small, and he took particular delight in how well they were formed. No over-sagging or floppiness. They were high and just slightly plump, with soft pink areolas and nipples that looked almost like pastel candy. Her body was tight and toned, her legs were long and sleek without being too thin, and her ass...