Le Français Pt. 02

He didn't have plans for her ass at the moment, but he wished he did.

Sinead slunk towards him like a cat on all fours, though a timid one rather than the confident tigress that Felicity posed when she did the same. Her ass still wove side to side, though, and her small tits hung a little between her legs. Most of all she looked at him with a fierce defiance to mask her nervousness.

"Lovely, Detective," Marc said, freely switching between what he called her to keep her off balance. Reminding her of her position pushed her buttons. Using her name pushed other buttons, assuming a closeness between them. She had reached him in his chair. "Now, kneel again."

She assumed the position he'd shown her, only taking a moment to fix her posture before she looked up at him.

"Very nice, Sinead," he said. "You look delectable. Now I want you to be Ready. First, you need to spread your knees wider." She did it, exposing the front of her cunt and her close-cropped little shock of ginger pubes, but not enough. He used his foot to put pressure just on the inside of her knee and she spread them further until she was in a proper position. "Excellent. Now put your hands on the ground in front of you between your legs." She did, which made her lean forward towards Marc more, her tits pressed just slightly between her upper arms and making them more prominent. "Good. And finally look up at me, just like that, open your mouth and stick out your tongue."

Sinead hesitated at that last part, but did it.

"This is what it means to be Ready," Marc said. Different sexual partners had different variations of the positions that a submissive partner would take. Some called them slave poses, or BDSM poses. Marc was a little more simple, especially after he and Felicity had developed their own repertoire and shorthand. "What do you think you're ready for?"

Sinead raised a sarcastic eyebrow. "I'm going to assume your cock?"

"Hmm, yes, but no," Marc said. "It means you're ready to service someone. That could be a cock, yes, but could also be a cunt. Your ass is also nicely displayed, so it wouldn't even necessarily need to be your mouth that you're using to provide the service. In this case, though, yes. You are going to be servicing my cock. Are you ready for that?"

Sinead obviously didn't know how to respond to that.

"Detective," Marc repeated himself, a little more sternly. "Are you ready to service my cock?"

"I am," she said and then licked her lips.

Marc sat forward on the seat, bringing his ass to the edge of the cushion and his cock to within inches of her. "Then, Detective, I would like for you to service my cock with your mouth. We have... about forty-two minutes left, so you can take your time."

Sinead hesitated, obviously conflicted about the scenario. The way her nipples were hard and her areolas were slightly crinkled, and the way she kept licking her lips, said she was turned on but her brain was telling her she shouldn't be. She took a breath, then leaned forward and gently took the tip of Marc's cock into her mouth.

"You may use your hands, Sinead," Marc said.

One hand came up and soon she was cautiously exploring. Marc realized very quickly that Sinead had likely never been with a man who still retained his foreskin, and she took her time exploring the extra skin with her lips and tongue, and pulling it back to reveal the head of his cock. Marc didn't mind at all, as the light teasing was pleasurable and he slowly grew to full size and hardness.

Then, once she'd figured out the mechanics, she started to properly blow him, taking his head between her lips and applying down suction and a little bit of tongue as she squeezed his shaft with one hand. Marc gave her a minute of doing that before he scoffed.

She looked up at him for the first time since she'd touched his cock with her lips, clearly confused.

"Detective, if this is how you blew your ex-husband, I can see why you two split up," Marc said. "I had a better blowjob from my first girlfriend in high school."

It was a risk, pushing her like that, but the fire in her eyes as she shifted her grip a little on his cock and deliberately took him into her mouth and ran her tongue along the underside of his cock head told him he'd pushed it properly. Her suction became stronger, and her tongue worked harder. She stroked his cock as she sucked him in.

And most importantly, her eyes would dart up to his, checking his reaction. Opening the lines of communication.

Marc groaned and nodded, looking down into her green eyes. "Better, Sinead," he said. "Now worship my cock."

Chapter 12

Despite her stubborn glares, Sinead took Marc's challenge and applied herself fully.

She sucked and slurped. She used every part of her tongue. She gagged, drooled and slobbered. She kissed and nibbled. She even took his cock out of her mouth and stroked it quickly, playing with his foreskin and then slapping his cock on her cheeks.

It was all good, but the thing that elevated it were those eyes. Sinead's eyes were much like Felicity's in that Marc could fall into them and felt like he was reading her mind, and she was reading his.

Sinead and Marc didn't trade any more words. They communicated in grunts, groans and moans. He ran his fingers through her hair. She massaged his balls lightly. She took him deeper, stretching her lips lower onto his cock and gagging as she reached her limit.

Finally, when his crotch and her face were a mess of her spittle and her face was flushed enough that her freckles almost disappeared, Marc groaned. "I'm getting close, Detective."

Suddenly Sinead swapped from worshipping to being on the hunt. She could feel his cock swelling that little bit more as his orgasm approached. Could feel his big, full balls starting to tighten, getting ready to fire off their loads. She took him deep into her mouth again, loosing a loud slurping as she jerked the last couple of inches of his cock with her hand roughly.

"Fuuuck, Sinead," Marc groaned, his fingers running through her hair and on the side of her head and softly holding on.

Dingalingalingalingaling.

The egg timer went off in the kitchen.

Marc could see Sinead hear it, process it, and ignore it. She rotated her head a little, jamming the head of his cock into the back corner of her cheek, and bobbed ferociously as she fucked her face on his cock. He groaned and released.

Sinead moaned deep in her chest as she started gulping down each rope of cum as he jetted it across her tongue. She slurped it down as fast as he could pump it out, and Marc threw his head back and groaned to the ceiling as he emptied his balls and felt that warm ache travel up from his legs to his chest.

As Sinead sucked the last strand out of him she popped off of his cock, panting hard. Marc, despite his body feeling emptied, slid down from his chair next to her. "Veux tu que je fasse jouir petite rebelle?"

Sinead look up at him in cloudy confusion.

"Do you want me to get you there?" He asked her again breathlessly.

She nodded, not able to form the words.

"Ready," he ordered her. She adjusted her position, leaning forward and putting her hands on the floor between her knees, though she didn't raise her face and stick out her tongue like she was supposed to. He would forgive that considering how hard she was panting.

Marc slid a hand down from her lower back to under her ass, finding her hot pussy blindly and immediately starting to rub his fingers over her lips firmly. She was wet and groaned when he started to work her hard and fast.

"Shhh,laisse-toi aller," Marc hushed her as he diddled her, feeling her nub of a clit hood under the pads of his fingers and pushing a little harder on it.

She tensed, loosened, and fell towards him, leaning against his bare chest as she sucked in deep breaths.

"Go when you're ready," Marc told her, and she nodded.

She came without warning, her back arching as she pressed her cunt down and back towards his fingers and she groaned loudly through her gritted teeth.

"Good girl, Detective," Marc grunted. "Good fucking girl."

The orgasm was big but didn't last long. Sinead collapsed a little more heavily onto him as her body let her go, and he pulled his fingers from her and rested his hand on her back as he softly rubbed her smooth, hot skin.

"Shhh," he hushed her softly again, soothing her. "There we go. There we go, Sinead. Just breathe slowly."

- - - - -

Sinead left Marc's apartment with his thumb drive in her jacket pocket. He'd offered her use of his shower, but she'd just gone into his washroom and cleaned her face and tied back her hair into a messy ponytail. Looking at herself in the mirror she almost hadn't recognized herself. She'd looked like a slut, her spit all over her cheeks and the taste of his cum in her mouth.

But it was the satisfaction in her face that had been the most disturbing.

She hadn't had an orgasm like that in ages. And he'd done it to her with, what, a couple of minutes of playing with her pussy?

Leaving the bathroom had almost felt harder than getting undressed at the start of it. She'd nearly wrapped one of his towels around herself but managed to steel herself and walk out with what confidence she could muster. He'd put on his briefs, but nothing else.

Getting into her car, Sinead shook her head and felt in her pocket again to make sure the thumb drive was there.

It was a golden nugget. What Marc had given her would push the investigation forward and clear several hurdles. It could change the trajectory of her career. And it was thanks to him.

"God. Fuck," Sinead groaned, leaning forward and resting her forehead on the steering wheel. She still felt hot all over. Her fingers were tingling.

At the door, she'd fought the desire to kiss him like it was the end of some date. She hated that she wanted to kiss that stupid fucking smile off of his lips. And she hated that her nipples tightened, and her pussy fluttered, when he'd said what he said.

"You were an excellent partner tonight, Sinead. I'm jealous of whomever you spend time with next. If you ever find yourself in need of some financial... advice, I look forward to some future adventure into the underworld with you."

He was willing to do it again. To... trade. To adventure with her.

God, that fucking smile!

"Fuck," Sinead groaned again, feeling herself getting just a little wet. She realized she'd left her panties somewhere in his apartment. "God- Fuck!"

Chapter 13

"Jules, I'm sorry," Sinead said as she opened up the drawer of her desk and started sorting through all the crap she had in there.

"Babe, I know it's not your fault, but fuck you anyways," Jules groaned as she sat down at her own desk and looked across at her partner.

Or former partner.

"I didn't think-" Sinead started, but stopped herself and sighed. "I thought it would be both of us, not just me."

"Yeah, well, maybe I should have let you give me a little of the credit," Jules grumbled.

"You were being a good friend and partner," Sinead sighed. "The best. I couldn't have done it without you covering for me."

"And I could have been more helpful on the actual case," Jules said. "I should have done more with you."

The arrests that had come out of Sinead's deal with Marc hadn't exactly been sweeping, but it had been surgical. Using the data Marc had dug up, and taking his hints, Sinead had been able to track down the accountant that had been behind the whole shell game scheme. This time she'd been in the room when Financial Forensics started their interrogation, and she'd even been able to lean back on her usual interrogation skills to help.

"It still should have been both of us," Sinead said. "I need a partner for this - I can demand that they bring you over with me. I might have that leverage."

Jules shook her head. "You've gotsome political capital now, don't spend it on me right away. I mean, fuck you still, but you're also you're still my girl and I'm not letting you turn a career-maker into a dud."

Sinead packed up her desk. When the transfer had come in she'd been excited at the acknowledgement and challenge. She would be able to see if the tiny Financial Forensics department was actually dirty or not, and she could keep chasing the Le Francais case as she worked backup for the other, actual accountants. The fact that Jules wasn't joining her had dulled that excitement significantly, but as she filled up the cardboard banker's box in preparation for the drive downtown she still felt a little surge at the challenge in front of her. She'd be working out of the HQ now, which made for a worse drive to work, but the opportunity she saw was huge. Most cops would have probably seen the Financial Forensics unit as a dead end, if not a punishment, but after everything just to pick up crumbs on the edges of the Le Francais criminal enterprise she was quickly realizing it was work that could really lead somewhere.

Sinead loved being a detective, and she wasn't looking to move on any time soon, but it would be nice to stick a couple of big profile arrests in her hat if she ever did decide to try and move up the ranks.

And there was the other thing. The piece of the puzzle that she hadn't told anyone about. Not Jules, not the Captain. She could barely think about it herself without trying to find something else to occupy her thoughts because it worried her. Deep down she knew there was a little spark of excitement that sooner than later she would need to go see Marc again.

What he'd done was vile, making her trade a sexual experience for evidence. She'd hated every minute of it. She'd... done it willingly. More than willingly, she could only admit in her weakest moments late at night when it was just her and her vibrator and the sheets were twisted around her legs.

As she stood and put the lid on her banker's box and looked around the office area she'd worked with Jules in for the past three years, Sinead couldn't help but still feel guilty. Partnering with Jules, they'd made a ton of cases together and they'd been able to do it their way. Jules wasn't just a friend or a good cop. They jelled well together, and that was harder to find than Sinead would have thought when she first joined the force.

"Drinks tonight?" she asked Jules.

"Yeah, definitely," Jules nodded. "And this weekend. I'm going to get assigned some new partner that I'll need to complain about."

Sinead smirked a little. "Well, just make sure they'll have your back."

"I will," Jules said and winked at Sinead. "I'll see you later, partner."

- - - - -

"Fuuuck," Sinead groaned under her breath.

It had been a full week since she'd gotten her desk deep in the middle of the Police HQ building. The building itself was nice, and it was located in a great area of the city that was bustling with business and university students and the provincial government. Unfortunately, the tiny Financial Forensics department was assigned to a conference room worth of space that had no windows, stains on the carpet that she was mostly certain were coffee, and a light in the far corner that flickered every once in a while. And it smelled like old, damp printer paper.

Her two new coworkers, Hal and George, were both middle-aged and seemed to be opposites of each other. Hal was a tall, skinny black man with a thick moustache and a head of hair that was solidly silver at the temples. George was a portly white guy with a chinstrap of a beard and not a single hair on his head. He also wore old, wire-frame glasses and tended to sweat a lot as he bent over the shitty laptop at his desk. She'd met them before during the Accountant interrogation but hadn't gotten to know much about them. After a week in the office, she still didn't.

Sinead could have brought in her crappy, out-of-date iPad from home and it would have had more processing power than the three laptops they were working with put together. She was almost surprised they actually got internet.

Still, she was pretty much being left alone. The two 'veterans' of the unit weren't passing on any work to her, and the Captain in charge of them hadn't shown his face in the dismal office since the day he'd shook her hand and led her to her desk. That meant she was free to pull on leads from the Accountant, and now she had one.

She had a thread. She just needed to pull on it.

Chapter 14

Sinead pinched her cellphone between her shoulder and her ear as it kept ringing and she kept her eyes trained on the restaurant entrance through her little binoculars.

"Yeah?" Jules asked as she picked up the other end of the call.

"Hey, you wanna come do a stakeout with me?" Sinead asked.

"...like, for fun?" Jules asked. "Did you meet a guy or something and need help vetting him?"

"No, nothing like that," Sinead said, maybe a little too quickly. She'd had another moment of weakness the night before when she was alone with her vibrator. "It's for the case."

"You're on a stakeout alone?" Jules asked.

"Technically it's just surveillance," Sinead said.

"Still. Alone?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal. It's boring stuff, mostly."

"Am I going to get overtime if I come out there and freeze my ass off in the car?" Jules asked.

"Ummm..." Sinead hummed.

"Babe, areyou getting overtime for this?" Jules asked pointedly.

"No," Sinead said. "But I'm getting paid. I kind of make my own hours now."

"What the hell does that mean?" Jules asked.

"No one cares when I'm in the office or not, so I'm working when it makes sense," Sinead said. "So I'm on the clock."

"Are you safe?" Jules asked.

"Yeah," Sinead said.

"... Really?"

"Yes, Jules. I'm just bored doing this by myself."

"Sinead, I love you like a sister, but I amnot doing a stakeout on a Thursday night just for fun," Jules said.

"Alright," Sinead sighed.

Jules still talked with her for another ten minutes before hanging up. It took another hour for Victor Berisha to walk out the doors of George restaurant with his guests, shake their hands and then stroll down the street towards his Porsche. Sinead snapped pictures of the guests, then checked her notes and wrote down the time. Almost exactly 9:30 PM, just like the last two weeks she'd been tailing Berisha.

The thread she'd been pulling on led to Berisha, but she would have bet her entire pension that he was just a link in the chain that would lead her to Le Francais. Berisha was a flashy middleman who enjoyed spending his money. He had four cars to his name, a big apartment downtown, a house out in Mississauga for his wife and two kids, and another one out in Scarborough for his mistress. The sheer amount of money this guy spent just on property taxes had to be worth almost Sinead's entire yearly salary.

There was only one thing in his schedule that had repeated, and that was his Thursday night dinner at George. He'd had different guests each time, but the first week it had been a couple of members of the Italian mob from down in Hamilton, and last week it had been a trio of Asian men that she hadn't been able to identify, but definitely had the sleek looks of criminal upper management. This week he'd had another two guests, and she'd gotten clear photos of both men.

Sinead needed to know what was happening during those dinners. Was Berisha just schmoozing his contacts, or was he doing business at the Michelin-rated restaurant?

The problem was that even though she could tie Berisha to the accountant, none of it was illegal. There was no way she could get a warrant to bug the place, let alone his car or something. And getting more manpower on this would raise expectations and she couldn't guarantee it would be useful. She needed to get in there next Thursday night herself, undercover. Anything she got would be inadmissible in court, but it would give her somewhere to start.