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The whole time, I’ve let my hands wander. Cupping his balls, sliding up his abs, teasing the sensitive spot just beneath the plump head.
When I finally take him deep, we moan together.
“Fuck!” He threads his fingers through my hair as I fight to take him deeper.
He’s so big. My lips stretch wide, and my jaw aches. I wrap a hand around the base and cup his balls with my other hand.
His hips buck, and his shaft expands between my lips. The hot spray of his cum splashes against the back of my throat, choking me. Tears well in my eyes as my body reacts, screaming against the invasion. I wasn’t ready. I’d barely begun.
My drool and his cum slide down his shaft as I lift off slowly.
Because it’s a mess and incredible and fucking naughty. He might have come, but bringing him that kind of pleasure spikes my own.
He palms the back of my head, petting my hair. “Fuck,” he says again, this time, disbelief coloring the word. “I’m sorry, Katie Bird. I’ve been so worked up.”
Smiling, I lick him clean, loving his salty flavor. I never thought I’d like it so much. But when you’re with the right person?—
“Glad I could help.”
He hooks his hands beneath my arms and hauls me back into his lap, his long cock trapped between us. With a hand cupping my cheek, he steals a kiss. I rock against him, wrapping around him as best I can. He can be the tree, and I’ll be the koala.
His tongue swipes my lower lip, and I shudder, opening immediately and sinking into the kiss. This gives a new meaning to French kissing. Deep, breath-stealing, lighting every nerve ending on fire.
Finally, when we’re both starving for air, he pulls back but tips his forehead against mine.
“If that was helping, I’m going to need more help for the rest of my life.”
Seriously, he can’t keep saying stuff like that to me. A girl could get used to it.
???
An hour later and after a shower, we’re dressed and strolling to the Seine. There’s an early morning bustle as the city wakes. Lights flicker on around us, and the scent of dough is heavy in the air. My mouth waters because even though New York makes the best bagels, there’s nothing like a fresh croissant from a corner cafe in Paris.
Alex’s men keep a reasonable distance. I don’t. I cling to his arm, staying as close as public decency allows. But this is the city of love. Paris is accustomed to lovers.
Playing tourist with Alex is magical. No one cares who we are. The media has left us alone. No one follows us down the street with their phone out, recording us or peppering us with questions.
“Thank you for this,” I say, not for the first time on this trip. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to get away.”
“Any time, Katie Bird.”
I press a kiss against his bicep. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
I try to remember the last time I was able to depend on anyone the way I can with him. Steadfast. Solid.
“I do.” He pauses beneath the canopy of a tree right in the middle of the sidewalk. After a quick glance around, he meets my gaze. “You woke me up, Katherine. Reminded me that life is for living. I was just existing for far too long.”
I squeeze his fingers, heat rushing up the back of my neck at the fierce praise. “I don’t want toexist,” I whisper.
Without that auction, I’d still be on the hamster wheel, running for my life and never getting anywhere. I cling tighter because the idea of missing out on this is physically painful. My stomach sours and my nose stings with unshed tears.
Now that I’ve felt this way, whole and calm and like I belong, I wish that for everyone. I wish I could feel it forever.
“I want to live.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and offers me another smile. “Me too.”
“I want to live with you. And Gabe and Kingston. I want to make memories and feel so happy I could burst every single day.” The truth swells up and pours out of me. It’s wild and new and crazy. Like seriously the craziest thing I’ve ever admitted, but it’s true. And it doesn’t matter about the timeline because I realize now that everything happened just as it should have, right on time.