unravelling the silk from her neck and wrapping it around my fist.
She tilts her head, mischief making her eyes glisten. ‘I don’t know if I remember. Maybe you should remind me—’
I cut off her words with a slow, sensual kiss, grinding my hips against her nakedness as I press my hands to the mirror on either side of her head.
‘Is it coming back to you yet?’
‘I think I need to take a quick peek. Just to be sure.’ Her hands reach for my pants when I cover them with my own.
‘Be sure of what, ma Rose?’
‘Be sure it’s as pretty as I remember.’
‘You can’t call my cock pretty, not without there being consequences.’ This woman. Just her. I don’t care what follows. I care for nothing right now but having her.
‘Oh, no,’ she purrs. ‘However can I make it up to you?’
Before I can say another word, she drops to her knees, lifting me free from the confines of my underwear. She lowers her gaze demurely, her fingers warm on my scalding skin. Her nails are painted pink, and her hands small and dainty. I can’t help but be struck by the contrast between her softness and my rigid cock, the veins bulging ruddily.
I gather the mass of dark waves to better see, hissing out a breath as the soft brush of her hair draws my abs tight. My body bowing forward as she places a tender kiss to my crown, my knees almost going out from under me as she then inhales me almost to the back of her throat.
‘Fuck . . .’
‘You’re so hot and hard,’ she whispers, her eyes almost coy as they flick up to me. But coy is a ruse, coy is a deception, as her tongue flicks out, tonguing my head, my slit, licking my aching length, her attentions blowing my mind.
‘La langue est diabolique.’ I use her earlier words against her, our tongue is diabolical, the delivery a rush of air. It’s a praise that seems to please her, judging by the way she begins to work me faster. Her hand is firm at the root of my cock as she twists and jacks, her mouth alternating between tight and messy until my mind is blank of all thoughts but one.
‘Suce-moi,’ I moan, my words hoarse, my eyes glued to the delicious slide of her lips. My pulse pounds, and my thighs tremble as she moans the most encouraging sounds, the vibrations like a drug hitting my veins.
‘Tu vas me faire jouir. You’re going to make me come.’
My balls draw tight; I’m close to coming, and though the room is cool, my skin feels as though it’s been pierced by a million hot pins, the sensation of fire expanding under my skin. I crave this release, but I don’t give in. Not at the sight of her naked and on her knees. Not as her gaze meets mine full of heat and unspoken promises. Not as her languid gaze grows dark, her mouth full of me. Because I need more.
‘Venez ici. Come here.’ It takes every grain of my restraint to encourage her to leave me with those few remaining brain cells. I pull her up, pull her mouth from me as she tightens her lips, releasing me with a smacking kiss.
I waste no time pressing her back against the bed as, between us, we work off the rest of my clothing. Her hands reach for my shoulders as I press myself between her legs.
‘I want to feel you, skin to skin,’ I whisper, pressing kisses to the silken column of her throat as my fingers find her still plump and swollen. ‘I want to feel you pulsing around me.’
‘Yes. Let’s do it,’ she whispers, her hips tilting in invitation. ‘Let’s have babies. Let’s have dozens of them.’
I halt, my brain lagging behind my willing body. Before I’ve even processed her response, she begins to shake under me.
‘God, your face,’ she laughs. ‘You looked like you were mentally reciting a pros and cons list.’
‘You . . .’ I narrow my eyes, unable to complete the rest of that sentence without spoiling everything. You are exceptional. I don’t care who you are, and I don’t care the lies I’ll have to tell to keep you here.
‘Are joking!’ she brings her hands to her face, finishing for me. ‘And I’m on the pill. I don’t sleep around.’ Do you? Her enquiry goes unspoken, but I hear it anyway.