Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
I guided her to the stairs and went to the second and then the third floor. My primary bedroom had double doors, taking up the back part of the top floor, a space where an entire apartment had sat before I’d renovated the whole building.
When we walked inside, the curtains to the windows were still parted, showing the Eiffel Tower lit up like a Christmas tree, the bank on the other side of the Seine illuminated by the lampposts.
In her heavy coat, she stared at the Eiffel Tower as if she’d never seen it before, her eyes reflecting the lights that shimmered from the base to the top.
I watched her appreciate something the rest of the French had forgotten, a historic landmark with eternal beauty. I got lost in my stare, savoring the way the light brought a distinct glow to her face. She didn’t inspect my chambers or care about their luxury. All she cared about was the view.
“I can’t see it from my apartment,” she explained. “Just the rotating searchlight when it hits the other buildings.”
“Where was your old place?”
“The 8th arrondissement—near the Four Seasons.”
She’d gone from a life of luxury to a one-bedroom apartment near a mall, but she didn’t complain about it. She chose the hard life over the easy one, and I respected the hell out of her for it.
I came up behind her and removed the heavy coat from her body, tossing it over the back of a chair before I pulled her against me, one arm locking in front of her shoulders while the other slipped underneath her shirt and rose up to her chest. I slipped my fingers under her bra, and I took one of her plump tits in my grasp. I squeezed it harder, felt her chest rise with the deep breath she took. I gripped the other one as I locked her against me, listening to her breathe and feeling her lean into me, her breaths starting off quiet before they rose in intensity.
My hand left north and headed south, traveling over her flat stomach, her pierced belly button, and inside the front of her jeans. I slipped my fingers under the soft fabric of her panties, felt the smooth skin over her pelvic bone, and I felt her inhale a sharp breath just because I touched her most erogenous spot.
I glided my fingers over it before I pressed into it hard, making her repeat the breath and the gasp. She grabbed on to the arm that was across her collarbone, and her nails dug into the flesh as she arched and pressed her back into my chest.
I continued to play with her clit as I tightened my grip over her shoulders, my lips pressed to her ear. “Look at the tower.” I rubbed her throbbing nub as I stared at the side of her face, seeing her eyes shut as she continued to writhe, her feet digging into the floor and pushing, squirming.
Her eyes opened and reflected the brilliant lights. Her breaths took on volume, becoming labored in their intensity, matching the way her body ground and rocked against me, her legs shaking as her feet continued to dig into the rug.
My grip kept her in place against me like a bird trapped in a cage, and I played with her little pussy, plunged a finger into her river before I smeared it over the nub that was on fire. I chose force over a gentle caress, and that made her whimper louder, made her breathe hard like she was getting fucked in the ass.
I knew she was almost there, the tide rising higher and almost covering the entire beach. With a little more, she would convulse against me, her nails drawing blood. When I had her where I wanted her, I pressed my lips near her ear. “Beg.”
She released a groan when she felt my fingers slide away from her aching channel.
“Beg me to fuck you.” I slipped my hand underneath her shirt again and squeezed her tit, her arousal wet on my fingertips, coating her nipple as I pinched it. The trail of moisture over her tummy glowed in the light.
So deep in the haze, she didn’t even try to fight it. She turned into my chest and lifted my shirt over my head before she locked her mouth on mine, rising on her tiptoes and tugging my neck down so she could reach my lips. She dug her fingers into my hair, and she hiked her leg up my hip like she wanted me to pick her up. “Fuck me.”
I lifted her into me, our mouths finally level, her mouth ravenous like a hungry wolf.
“Please, Bastien.” She cupped my cheek, and she kissed me like I meant the world to her, like a wife happy for her husband to come home after the war, like a woman who’d only loved one man all her life. “Fuck me, Bastien.” She said the words against my lips, barely pausing our kiss to speak. “Hard.”