Page 53 of Je T'aime, Actually

She shifted her angle just slightly, enough to draw out another moan from Monroe, louder this time, broken. Chloé kept therhythm, steady but unrelenting, her mouth brushing Monroe’s ear.

“I want to feel you come.”

Monroe's body arched, a shiver rippling through her spine.

“I’m close—don’t stop.”

“I won’t.” Chloé’s voice was all heat and promise. “Give it to me.”

And Monroe did—legs tightening around Chloé’s waist, nails digging into her shoulders as the climax hit, sharp and shuddering. She cried out against Chloé’s neck, lost in the moment, her entire body pulsing with release.

Chloé held her through it, slowing only when Monroe sagged against her, spent and breathless.

For a moment, they were still. Just the sound of their breathing, the faint hum of the fridge, and the warmth between them.

Then Chloé pressed a kiss to her temple, pulled back and asked, “All okay?”

Monroe let out a soft laugh, breath still uneven. “I’ve never been better.”

She hopped down, unbuckling the belt around Chloé’s waist. Monroe let it drop to the floor and sank to her knees.

“Youdidn’t come,” she said, glancing up with a wicked smile.

“Not yet—” Chloé gasped as Monroe’s mouth latched onto her, a desperate need to reciprocate.

Chloé’s hands flew to the edge of the counter, gripping it for balance.

“Fuck…” Chloé breathed, head tipping back, eyes fluttering shut.

Monroe moaned softly against her, the vibration sending a fresh wave of heat through Chloé’s core. Her hands gripped Chloé’s thighs, keeping her steady, opening her further. She licked with purpose now—long, deliberate, unrelenting strokes.

Chloé’s hips twitched forwards, chasing the rhythm. “Yes…just like that.”

Monroe smiled against her, then circled her tongue tighter, faster, drawing gasps from Chloé that echoed off the kitchen tiles. She dipped her tongue inside, then back up to her clit, flicking, sucking, pulling every sound and shiver from Chloé’s body.

Chloé’s fingers tangled in Monroe’s hair—not guiding—just holding on. Her thighs trembled, breath shortening, pulse pounding in her ears.

“I’m—” she started, but the rest came out as a strangled moan, her body tensing and breaking all at once. Her release crashed through her, sharp and unstoppable.

Monroe didn’t stop until Chloé was pulling back, over-sensitive, her legs barely holding her up.

“Oh la Vache…” Chloé panted, sliding to the floor.

Monroe wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smug and satisfied. “I’m no pillow princess.”

They stayed like that for a moment, limbs tangled, skin flushed, the afterglow wrapping around them like warmth from the oven.

forty-three

“Do you think sex is this great because we don’t see each other every day?” Monroe asked, as they drove into the city for brunch, and then Chloé’s meeting.

“I don’t think that’s the reason.” Chloé smiled, reaching out to rest a hand on Monroe’s thigh. “Maybe it just feels more intense because it’s all crammed into two or three nights.”

“Like a whirlwind,” Monroe mused.

“We always said, ‘One day at a time.’”

Monroe turned to look at her properly. “You’re right. I’m not complaining. I suppose I’ve just never really had this before…with anyone.”