Page 46

I wait for her to nod and when I get her confirmation, I ease her to sitting and peel the shirt from her body. Her breasts are full and peaked. My mouth waters, wanting to taste them, tease them. But I don’t—not yet.

The lines of her body are soft, curved. There are small indents where the muscles underneath show through, where her waist dips in before flaring out.

I rake my eyes back up to meet hers. I’m so glad this hotel has enormous beds so when I’m standing, I’m not towering over her. Her breathy inhale makes my cock throb as I lift her hips and ease her bottoms off. She’s finally bare before me, a flush rising on her skin as I stare at her, dumbstruck.

“So fucking beautiful,” I whisper when I can manage to speak.

I run my hands up her calves, the first spot where I was lucky enough to feel her skin. My hands trail up her thighs and over the curve of her hips. The soft skin gives way under my touch, and I have to take a deep breath, willing my body to slow down.

With a firm grip, I push her back so she’s lying fully on the bed, and I crawl in beside her to resume exploring her delicious body.

I drag the back of my hand over the outside curve of her breast, and she moans with impatience, her body searching for release.

Not yet.

I’m not even close to giving her what she wants. I haven’t had my fill yet. And I will not go any further until she no longer questions how perfect she is.

I lean down and place a kiss on a scar on the side of her ribs.

“What’s this from?”

She clears her throat. “Um, chest tube. I had a punctured lung.”

Rage at the person who caused the accident fills me, the one who almost took her from me before I even got the chance to know her. I have to remind myself she’s here and alive. I place a hand over her heart to reassure myself with its strong rhythm.

I trace the outline of the small scar with my fingers and then my lips before trailing my tongue to the middle of her body, brushing a kiss right over her heart.

My fingers move first, down her stomach to the large vertical scar extending from the bottom of her rib cage, curving around her navel, and stopping right between her hip bones.

This scar is huge but the lines are clean. Her skin puckers a bit around the curve, but damn. For her to have survived this ...

“Tell me about it,” I demand, my anger at the stranger who did this to her lingering.

She speaks as though through a daze. “There was bleeding and they couldn’t figure out where. They went in laparoscopically at first, but they couldn’t see, couldn’t clear the field, so they had to open me up. Turns out I was lucky because it was just my spleen. They removed it.” Her voice is so distant, my fingers freeze and I look at her. She’s propped up on her elbows watching me.

A wicked smile blooms across my face. I kiss every inch of that lifesaving scar, up and back down. Treating it with the reverence it deserves.

When I’m satisfied she no longer feels self-conscious about it, I move across her belly, kissing each spidery stretch mark, over to the wider ones on her hips.

“ Mon petit loup had claws before he was born,” I whisper, chuckling. Her quiet laughter joins mine, and this time when I look up, her eyes are softer, less guarded.

“He was a big baby,” she explained.

“How big?”

“Ten pounds four ounces, and he was born a week early.”

I don’t know much about birth weights, but that sounds like a lot even to me. She laughs at my expression. I dip my head back down and continue kissing and licking each line, each scar representing the life she’s lived, the life she created.

Her life. Levi’s life.

When I have paid each mark the respect it’s owed, I dip my head lower, kissing down to the crease between her sex and her thigh.

“Julien you don’t have to—” I cut her off with a playful nip on the sensitive skin there, and she yelps, smacking my head.

“I haven’t waxed or shaved—” This time I cut her off with a long stroke of my tongue, right up her slit. Finally. I’ve never tasted anything so good in my entire life. She’s wet already, but I want her soaked, dripping.

“I’m French,” I tell her, remembering when she complained she hadn’t shaved when I massaged her calves.

Her chuckle turns into a moan as I work her with my tongue, finding the movements she likes. Her clit is swollen and ready, but I want to drag this out. I tease her, licking and sucking everywhere except where she needs it most.

I slip a finger inside her warmth, and then another one, curling to the spot I remember from that night on her couch.

My blood heats and my cock grows impossibly hard, straining against the fabric of my sweats.

“Julien, please,” she moans as I edge her to near oblivion. Her sounds drive me forward—her “pleases,” the way her hips move, searching desperately for contact.

I smile into her, gripping her hips, and in a move I know she’s not expecting, I lift her up and climb up the bed, placing her on top of me with her legs straddling my head.

“Julien!” she gasps, staring down at me in shock.

“Ride my face, Leah,” I growl.

She hesitates, looking unsure. But that won’t do. I grip her waist and pull her down, slamming her pussy back onto my mouth, my tongue going right inside and licking in and up to her clit. She cries out loudly and her body takes over.

I’m not giving her any time to overthink this. She fucks my face as I devour her. I feel her coating my lips and then she tenses, pulsing as she comes apart, falling over to brace herself on the headboard for support, her orgasm tearing through her body. I don’t let her go, not until she squirms.

I loosen my hold but don’t let her go far.

“Again,” I mutter, bringing her back down.

“I’m too sensitive, I can’t usually do more than one.”

I snort.

“Are you laughing at me?”

She looks down and damn, what a sight. I have the perfect view from underneath her, peering up between her legs, up her body from her breasts hanging down to her face, where her brow is pinched in my favourite scowl. But the lust still lingers in her eyes.

“Again,” I bark, not letting her protest as I bring my head up, starving for her. She clearly doesn’t realize that I’m so comfortable right here, I could stay like this all night, wringing pleasure from her until she’s a puddle on the ground.

I play with her, staying away from the most sensitive parts until her hips start moving again and I know I can get another orgasm from her. And I do. Two more times.

“Julien?” she heaves, her legs shaking and trembling after she’s screamed her pleasure. I hope the walls are thick. Then again, I couldn’t care less.

“Hmm?” I say, nuzzling into her.

“My legs are dying.”

That jars me out of my stupor. I’ve been drunk on the taste and the sound of her. I let her ease off my face and subtly wipe my mouth with the back of my hand .

“I’m so sorry,” I say as she lies down on her back, her breathing still shaky. Male pride warms my chest at the satiated woman beside me.

Or at least I thought she was satiated.

She props herself up on her elbows. “Are you apologizing for giving me three orgasms in a row?” She looks incredulous.

“I could’ve done that with you lying down.” My brows pinch. I should’ve thought that she might be sore, her legs fatigued after the race today.

“Julien.” She pushes me back so I’m flat on my back and leans over me. “The only thing I’m complaining about is that you’re still dressed and aren’t inside me yet.”

A hiss escapes through my lips as she runs her hand over the bulge in my pants, her eyes widening as she traces the outline.

“Here’s the thing,” I whisper, suddenly self-conscious. “I uh ... I d-don’t always fit.” I close my eyes, willing some blood back to my head. But it’s futile, especially with her slipping her hand under my waistband and into my pants. Her small hand slides over the hard length. It might not even matter, I may come from this alone.

“Look at me,” she says firmly, using my own words against me. I can’t deny her anything.

When my eyes find hers, anger and desire greet me. My two favourite things.

“If I’m not allowed to make excuses, then neither are you,” she says, wrapping her hand around me and squeezing. It barely fits. I swallow .

I’ve been with partners before who couldn’t take me. I don’t think she understands.

“Leah—” This time it’s her who silences me with a kiss.

“Take your clothes off,” she orders after she effectively renders me speechless. She eases her hand out and helps me take off my shirt. It’s her turn to explore. Her eyes widen when she takes in the extent of my tattoo. She must not have seen it fully when we were on the couch together. It was dark that night.

The full sleeve comes up and around my shoulder and down one side of my pec. Her hand on my skin is hypnotising, charting the lines of my tattoo, and then her fingers run gently over my muscles. I twitch when she reaches my side, and she smiles.

“Ticklish?” she says, laughter on the tip of her tongue.

“Wicked woman,” I say before bringing her to me and kissing her senseless.

Not senseless enough, because she still has the capacity to order me around.

“Pants off,” she says when she can get her mouth free.

I sigh. I may just die if I can’t fit inside her. Everything else about her is perfect, perfect for me. It would be a cruel joke from the universe if I couldn’t claim her in that way.

She gives me some space so I can take my pants off, and then I watch as she takes the rest of me in. Her teeth embed in her lower lip when she sees my cock for the first time.

Before I can brace myself, she leans down, dragging her tongue up the underside, causing my hips to buck. I almost spill when she licks the bead of precum off my tip .

“Holy fuck, woman,” I groan as she swirls my head into her mouth. I have to grip the sheets in an attempt not to thrust into her mouth and choke her.

She licks and teases me, and I know she’s paying me back for how I edged her. But I’m already seeing stars and all other thoughts abandon me. I have to be inside her. I have to at least try.

I flip her over onto her back and hover so I don’t suffocate her. Splayed out, pliant, and staring at me like she wants me taking up as much space as possible, she doesn’t seem real. I need her. I grip my cock and drag myself over her entrance. She’s so fucking wet.

“Shit, condom,” I hiss when my tip nudges her entrance. That may be the last coherent thought I ever have.

She shakes her head. “I haven’t been with anyone in years. I’m also on birth control.” I’m eternally grateful she doesn’t say his name in this moment, because I don’t need the reminder that he made her feel like shit about herself when she’s a fucking goddess underneath me.

“I also haven’t been with anyone in over a year. And I’ve never been with anyone that way.” I’m trying not to sound too eager, but the thought of being inside her, bare ... I’m not going to last long.

Her eyes soften, and the feel of her fingertips brushing my cheek stops my heart.

“Are you sure?” I ask, and when she nods, I drop my head to her forehead, kissing her slow and soft.

“I am going to start complaining if you are not inside me in the next five seconds,” she whispers against my lips.

How can I refuse ?

With a quick motion, I grab a pillow and guide it under her hips, making sure this is as good for her as it can be. I drag my length up her slit again, coating myself with her release. Because I was trying not to be presumptuous, I don’t have any lube with me. That would have made this more comfortable for her, and I’m kicking myself now. But she’s so wet it may not matter.

She opens her legs, allowing me entrance. Our matching gasps fill the silence between us as I inch in achingly slow. Her pussy is tight, and the stars I was seeing before burst in my eyes. Holy fucking hell.

So tight. Too tight. Shit.

“Am I hurting you?” The worry of causing her pain has dampened my lust, which may be a good thing because she feels too fucking good.

“No,” she lets out with a breath.

“Put your legs over my shoulders,” I order, dying to get fully seated inside her.

Heat flares in her eyes at the command, and she does what I ask, lifting one leg and then the other, opening herself up even more. I ease in, letting her adjust as needed. Her head tips back as her breathing quickens.

“Oh god, Julien,” she breathes.

“You okay?” I stop, searching her face for any signs that I’m too much.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop,” she hisses, and when I push fully inside her, she moans, clenching .

“Fuck,” I groan. Squeezing my eyes shut, I have to stop for my own good right now. There’s no way I’m coming after this one thrust.

“You okay?” she asks, parroting me. I can hear the teasing smile in her voice, but I can’t open my eyes. If I look at her right now there’s no way I’ll survive.

I grunt in response and she laughs, causing her body to shift under me. That one movement unleashes me and I pull almost all the way out and thrust back into her. Her laugh turns into a moan.

That fucking sound.

“I’ll try to be gentle but fuck, Leah—” I breathe.

“You aren’t going to hurt me,” she whispers.

I finally meet her eyes and then we’re kissing, mouths open and messy as I move in and out, pounding into her. She meets me thrust for thrust, her head arching back as she moans.

“ Je ne sais pas comment j’ai vécu sans toi .” I mean to say it in English, but my brain is not working and the words slip out in French. I’ve never felt like this before. Never so raw and undone and yet perfectly content at the same time. I’ve never been in love. How could I be, when she was out there?

I know her breathing now—she’s close again. I keep up my relentless pace as pleasure builds in the base of my spine. My head drops to the crook of her neck and I nip the sensitive skin there.

“I’m with you,” I whisper in her ear. They aren’t the words I want to say, but I want her to be coherent when I tell her I love her .

She tightens around me as she gasps and then moans, and I feel her come apart underneath me. Her walls contract as she arches into me, riding out her pleasure.

I’m done for. With one more thrust, heat licks up my back and shoots out all across my body as I come so hard I nearly black out. I can’t stop the groan that escapes me, the pleasure too strong to keep in as I spill inside her.

Her name leaves my lips like a prayer, and I swear I’ve died and gone to heaven.