Page 13 of Eat Slay Love

And as Fabien lowered his mouth to my breast, his tongue flicking over my aching nipple, I let that truth settle into my bones.

I let it consume me. “Oh.”

He murmured, “So fucking perfect.”

The second his mouth closed back over my nipple, my head dropped back, a gasp leaving my lips.

Oh fuck.

His tongue swirled—hot and wet—teasing the sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth.

Damn!

I arched into him, my hands clutching his shoulders, my breath ragged. Pleasure shot straight through me, a tight, pulsing erotic heat settling between my legs.

And then I felt it once again—the car swerving slightly.

I opened my eyes.

Dalvin barely pulled us up to another red light and was definitely watching and. . .biting his bottom lip as if he were holding in a moan.

If Fabien knew Dalvin was watching, would he stop?

Or would Fabien make a bigger show of it—turning that dark, possessive edge on full display, letting Dalvin know exactly who I belonged to?

A shiver ran through me, part fear, part reckless excitement.

Right then, Fabien groaned against my breast, his grip flexing over my hip as he lavished attention on my nipple, his teeth grazing, his tongue soothing, over and over.

Fuck!

And Jesus, the sounds—his deep, satisfied hums, the wet, obscene noises of his mouth on me—it was all too much, too fucking erotic.

I glanced up again, and there was Dalvin, squeezing the wheel, his body stirring in the seat, his jaw tight, his nostrils flaring.

God, this is so hot.

Fabien fucking devoured me so badly that my panties were SOAKING wet.

My body quaked with pleasure.

Suddenly, Dalvin ran a hand over his face, dragging his fingers down like he was trying to pull himself back from the brink of insanity.

But the second his palm dropped, his gaze lifted, meeting mine in the mirror.

Heat.

Raw, unfiltered heat passed between us.

Dalvin knew I saw him.

And he knew I knew.

And that sent something electric through me—something intoxicating, something dangerously thrilling.

Being even more bold, I slipped my hand down between Fabien and me, and my fingertips grazed his hard, thick length straining against those designer slacks.

Oh. My. God.

Fabien let out a delirious groan, and I moaned too.

Heat flushed through my body as I traced the rigid outline of his cock, my palm pressing, stroking, feeling the sheer size of him.

Fabien was so damned hard, hot even through the expensive fabric, and the knowledge that I had done this to him—that my body, my moans, my scent had unraveled him to this point—made me dizzy with need.

My breath stuttered, my thighs clenched, and my mind spun with the only thought that mattered. . .

I need this cock inside me.

I wanted to feel that thick, pulsing cock stretch me open, bury itself deep into my pussy and claim me in the way his kisses already had.

Just the idea of his big cock had me clenching, a helpless, aching pulse building between my legs, spiraling into something close to desperation.

Fuck.

I was delirious with it, trembling, wanting, starving.

Fabien was still lost in me, his lips and tongue working me over with pure, mind-numbing expertise, but I could barely think, barely function, barely hold onto the remnants of my self-control.

And I didn’t want to anymore.

Not when I could have more.

Not when I could have all of him.

“Fabien. . .” I moved my hand from his cock, lifted it up, and curled my fingers under Fabien’s chin and I tilted his head up.

When he looked at me, his eyes were heavy-lidded.

His lips were wet, his breath uneven.

I shivered. “Forget the Met, Fabien.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “Forget it?”

I swallowed hard, but there was no hesitation, no second-guessing, only certainty.

Only raw, aching need.

I gathered up the courage and simply said it, “Let’s go to your hotel.”

Silence stretched between us, thick, charged.

And then. . .a deep, growling sound left Fabien, his fingers flexing against my waist like he was restraining himself from ripping my dress apart right there in the backseat.

He licked his lips. “Are you sure?”

I leaned in, brushing my lips over his. “I am.”

The light turned green, yet Dalvin didn’t even drive.

Was he waiting for my answer too?

Fabien exhaled sharply, his hand lingering against my skin for one last indulgent moment before he slowly lifted my gown back over my breasts.

I swallowed, trying to steady myself, but my body still thrummed with the heat he had ignited.

With my breast put away, Dalvin had us moving again.

Fabien shifted slightly and lifted his gaze toward the rearview mirror. "Excuse me."

Dalvin’s voice was hoarse, rough, like gravel scraping against velvet. “Yes, sir?”

"Change of plans. Take us to Aman New York."

A beat of silence.

Then Dalvin cleared his throat, gripping the wheel tighter. "Yes, sir."

I let out a slow breath, my pulse still erratic, my skin still tingling from the way Fabien had touched me.

The way he had looked at me.

The way he had made me feel.

Fabien leaned back my way and brushed his lips against the shell of my ear. His breath was warm and teasing. "I want you, Rae."

I shuddered.

"I want you badly. But. . ."

I eyed him. "But?"

He licked his lips. "If you find that when we get to my suite. . .you realize that you’re not ready, I will understand. I mean. . ."

He chuckled. "I may run into the bathroom and splash my body with cold water, but I will understand."

The tension I hadn’t even realized I was holding melted away at his words.

My stomach tightened, but this time, it wasn’t just lust. It was this rising affection for him.

Fabien wasn’t just trying to get me into bed. He was careful with me, reading me, making sure I felt safe in this moment of reckless indulgence.

I turned my head slightly, meeting his gaze. "Thank you."

His lips quirked. "You waited ten years. You’re not the sort of woman who jumps into one-night stands."

"True."

He sighed. "However. . ."

I raised a brow. "However?"

His lips brushed against my temple. “You’ll find that once I have you in my bed. . .that ten-year wait will make a lot of sense.”

“Mmmm.”

"Let’s just hope that I don’t kidnap you in the morning and sneak you into Paris."

A laugh bubbled from my throat, further keeping me comfortable.

Yet, there was still a tiny bit of nervousness from what could come next.

Holy shit. I’m really about to do this.