Page 16 of Eat Slay Love

Chapter twelve

Mine to Adore

Fabien

Minutes later, the car pulled to a smooth stop in front of the hotel’s entrance.

My pulse was still pounding from the taste of Rae, from the way she had come apart in my hands, beneath my tongue, in my control.

Finally, we’re here.

For the hundredth time during this ride, I adjusted my slacks, trying to ease my throbbing cock.

As soon as get her alone, I’m burying myself in that wet pussy.

I glanced at Rae.

She was a vision. Her dark brown skin still flushed from pleasure, her breath just beginning to steady, her lips parted in that way that made me want to lick her pussy all over again.

Later.

The driver exited, walked around, and opened the door.

Crisp night air rushed in, cooling the lingering heat between us.

I stepped out first and slipped a folded thousand-dollar bill into the driver’s palm before he could speak.

I even caught the way he tried to place his suit jacket in front of his erection.

Shocked, he looked down at the money, then back to me, and cleared his throat. “Thank you, sir.”

“No problem.”

Still, the driver’s fingers twitched as if unsure whether to hold it or hand it back.

I smirked. “That’s for your. . .patience.”

And erection. Surely, that must have been torture with how delicious she sounded.

As if he heard me, the driver’s mouth parted slightly, and then he nodded.

I was sure he hadn’t expected a tip from me, but he damn well earned it.

After all, I had no doubt he was sitting in his own agony for the past twenty minutes, rock hard and suffering from everything he had witnessed—and more importantly, everything he could never have.

Still, he recovered quickly, clearing his throat once again.

Next, he turned toward Rae who was still in the car.

Soon, I’ll have you in my bed.

A dark grunt left me.

The driver watched her. "Ms. Harris, you still have me for twenty-four hours."

His voice was even.

Professional.

But his eyes?

They blazed with lust.

I smirked, not caring.

Rae was so intoxicatingly beautiful that many men would want her. And honestly, I looked forward to my future where I would be showing many men like this how she was mine.

Still, the driver continued, “I’ll be outside and waiting in the parking lot, just in case—”

“That won’t be necessary.” I cut him off, smooth and final.

The driver blinked, and his mouth snapped shut at my interruption.

I stepped to the side, offering my hand to Rae.

When she placed her palm in mine, a thrill ran through me.

Warmth.

Softness.

Submission and power in a single touch.

Mon dieu.

I curled my fingers around hers, helping her out of the car, and I knew—I would never let her go.

As she straightened, adjusting the fur coat around her shoulders, I noticed the way her driver hornily took her in.

Her gown shimmered under the city lights, evidence of our earlier sins still clinging to her skin, all the way down to even her thick thighs.

Mon dieu, I want her pussy back in my mouth.

“She won’t need you.” With reluctance, I tore my eyes away from Rae and turned back to the driver. “ My driver can take her anywhere she needs to go tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. . .

As if I would allow her to leave even then.

As if I didn’t already have a dozen wicked, persuasive orgasmic ways to make her cancel that flight back to LA.

But I waited.

The driver waited.

And then, Rae looked at him.

Not at me.

Not at the lavish hotel.

Not at the entrance where the hotel’s doormen stood at attention, ready to usher her into a world of private luxury.

No.

Rae looked at him.

And I saw the moment she realized.

That she had control.

That she had the power.

That no one—not me, not this driver, not any man in this city—could make the choice for her.

She could walk into that hotel with me.

Or she could step away, get back into that car, and leave.

She could hold me captive in uncertainty, force me to chase her down, convince her, plead if I had to.

Hmmm. My sweet American girl.

My stomach tightened.

Would she leave right now?

Would she make me hunt her down tomorrow, drag her to my bed, and ruin any plans she thought she had?

A slow, knowing smile curled on her lips. “Thank you for offering to wait, Dalvin. I appreciate that.”

I pursed my lips.

He let out a relieved sigh. "Of course. I would do. . . anything for you."

Careful.

However, she stepped closer to me.

Oh.

I felt it before she even spoke.

The weight of her decision.

Her voice was sultry, filled with promise. “But I won’t be needing a ride from you tomorrow. I’ll use Fabien’s driver.”

The relief.

The triumph.

The sheer victory that surged through me—it was almost too much.

I grinned.

The driver gave a small, respectful nod, averting his gaze as if he already knew what was coming next.

Good man.

Without another word, he climbed back into the Phantom and pulled away, disappearing into the night.

Leaving us alone.

And leaving me with her.

Exactly where she was meant to be.

I turned to Rae, tugging her flush against me. My voice grew thick with satisfaction. “That was a very smart decision, chérie .”

She smirked. “Oh? And why is that?”

I brushed my lips against her ear, whispering, “Because now I have all night to ruin you.”

And then, I kissed her.

Not gently.

Not sweetly.

But with possession.

With intent.

With the kind of hunger that a man only felt once in his lifetime—when he knew he had found something rare, something that no other man had the right to worship properly.

My lips crashed against hers.

Demanding.

Devouring.

She gasped softly, her hands flying up to my chest, gripping the fabric of my suit as if she needed something to hold onto—because she did.

Because I intended to steal every last ounce of oxygen from her lungs.

Manhattan pulsed around us, alive with its ceaseless energy—horns blaring in the distance, voices spilling out from bars and restaurants, the sound of the city’s heartbeat thundering beneath our feet.

But we were in our own world.

The golden glow of the hotel entrance bathed us in its warm light, while the moon above cast its silver blessing over her dark brown skin.

She was glowing.

Or maybe that was just how I saw her.

How I would always see her.

I angled my head, deepening the kiss, swallowing the small, desperate sound that escaped her lips. My tongue slid against hers, slow and thorough, savoring every flick.

Every moan.

Her every surrender.

She melted into me, her curves molding perfectly against my body, her nails digging into my shoulders like she needed more.

And I would give her everything.

I moved one hand to the small of her back, guiding her even closer, until there wasn’t a breath of space left between us.

My other hand tangled in her curls, tugging just enough to tilt her head back, forcing her to let me kiss her deeper.

God. . .come back to Paris with me.

She sighed into the deepening kiss, her body arching, pressing against the rigid length of my hard cock, still throbbing, still demanding to be inside of her pussy.

I groaned, my fingers tightening on her curvy waist, aching to throw her over my shoulder and take her straight upstairs.

But I wasn’t done kissing her.

Not here.

Not in the moonlight.

Not when she tasted like desire and submission and something dangerously close to fate.

I slowed the kiss, taking my time, letting my lips trace over hers in soft, sensual drags, letting her feel the way my mouth would worship every inch of her body once again before this night was over.

Her breath was ragged when I finally pulled back, just enough to stare down at her.

Her lips were swollen, wet, utterly wrecked.

And fuck if that wasn’t the best thing I’d ever seen. “Cancel your flight.”

She blinked. “You know I can’t.”

“Mmm.” I lifted her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her wrist, then laced my fingers with hers as I led her inside. “Then let’s stop wasting time, chérie .”

Tonight, Manhattan could keep its noise, its chaos, its endless distractions.

Because I was taking my goddess upstairs.

And I wouldn’t be letting her go.

We’ll see about your making that damn flight.