“Let me,” Alec tried to grab for the towels. Again, I shoved him away.
“I’ve got it. I’ve been cleaning up my messes and everyone else’s most of my life. I can handle a tiny spill,” I sniffed, holding back the damned emotions that were hanging just at the surface ready to break free. There was no way I was allowing myself to break down now. He’d see me as being weak, useless.
He pulled back and held up both hands, palms facing me. “Okay, okay, Je suis désolé. Sorry,” he repeated in English.
I knew I was being a bitch. This wasn’t his fault. He didn’t do anything to warrant me treating him poorly. Once I’d wiped up the mess, he handed me a newly opened bottle of wine. I poured more in my glass.
“Talk to me, ma jolie. I am here. I want to be here for you,” he said softly. I caught his gaze and could see he meant it. There was no pity in his tone or his eyes. Just concern.
“Alec, I’m sorry. It’s just, doing the shoot today, when you asked me to think of a happy time, it brought back a great memory. Only that memory was smashed by another that was very painful. It was a time in my life I still haven’t been able to work through. That’s all. It’s not you.” I leaned forward and wound my arms around his body, and laid my head against his warm chest. I nuzzled there smelling his fresh woodsy scent. He held me close, wrapping both arms around me. One hand slid up and down my spine comforting me in a way only a man of his size could.
“I get the feeling you’ve spent a great deal of your life taking care of others, oui?”
Instead of responding, I just nodded against his chest not wanting to see his eyes. He took a deep breath and squeezed me tight. “So now, ma jolie, it’s time you take care of yourself, oui?”
Again, I nodded from the safety of my hiding place.
“I shall help you. This project, Love on Canvas, will be an outlet. Together, and for the eye of the beholder, we will find you some peace, and I shall show you through art how perfect you are.” He pulled me back by the shoulders. I took a hand and wiped away the tears. I didn’t even realize I was crying before looking up into his beautiful eyes. They were so serene, yellow with warm brown flecks swirling happily. I couldn’t look away, didn’t want to. “This will be my best work yet and through it, you will find a piece of what you need to move forward.” He smiled wide then leaned forward. And finally, Alec kissed me the way I’d wanted to be kissed since I first saw him in person.
Deep.
Wet.
Long.
His lips formed to mine. He leaned forward and pressed his frame against mine until I was caged by the counter and his arms on either side. I lifted both hands, and starting at his stomach, I felt him. Finely sculpted abs, each bump a road I wanted to travel with my tongue. His pecs were hard slabs of muscle under the thin fabric of his t-shirt. Once I reached his neck, I pushed up a few more inches and let my fingers glory in the silk of his hair. He’d pulled it down at some point, and right then, I couldn’t be happier. He tilted my head to gain deeper access and his hands came into play. I was definitely enjoying his version of play.
Alec caressed my body like he was painting a canvas. Soft strokes here, harder ones there. All meant to seduce. I wanted his hands all over me—without the clothes. My foot was starting to throb painfully as I kept trying to put it down on the floor so I could pivot onto my toes to reach higher, press more of my body into his. Frustrated I jolted back, his lips leaving mine in an audible smack.
“What’s the matter?” He asked taking heavy breaths I felt puffing against my face. His eyes held concern, but I cupped his cheek and caressed his moist lip with my thumb.
“My foot…it hurts. I need to…lie down. Bed?” I said as winded as he was from our kiss.
He grinned wide, placed his hands on my ass and lifted me up. Instantly, I wound my legs around his trim waist. “My pleasure, ma jolie.” He carried me to the stairs and slowly climbed them, treating me as precious cargo, planting soft kisses along my neck as he went. When we made it to the bed, he held me tight, placed a knee on the mattress and leaned down, never dropping me in the process. The thought of his strength and power hovering over me sent me into an upward spiral of want.
Once I was flat, I pushed my hands under his shirt to get at his skin. Fumbling, I yanked at it, and he leaned up and whipped it off his head, tossing it behind him. Then he unbuttoned the few buttons on his jeans and left them open. I could see nothing but bare skin, soft tuffs of russet hair and a bit of his hard dick. Frenchie wasn’t wearing underwear. Fascinating.
“Commando?” I grinned.
His brows narrowed and he cringed. “Quoi?” he shook his head, “What?”
I placed my hands onto his waist then leaned up so I could slip them into the back of his pants to grip his bare ass. He groaned and flexed his hips when I did that. “You’re not wearing any underwear.”
Alec’s tongue came out to moisten his bottom lip. I stared at that lip like it held all the answers in the universe. “Oui. I do not wear le caleçon. They are uncomfortable and unnecessary. Prevent me from getting to what I want faster. For instance, you.”
Then his body straddled mine, his lips trailing down my neck. It felt good. Better than good. He gripped both breasts over my shirt before leaning back on his haunches and doing away with it. The front clasp of my bra was opened and gone in what seemed like a blink. With his fingers, Alec traced patterns all over my naked chest. I closed my eyes and allowed him to touch me this way. A way I’d not been touched before. Almost reverently, like I was special, my body precious.
“Vous êtes de l'art,” he whispered in French tracing the sides of my breasts and ribcage.
“Vous êtes l'amour.” His fingers skimmed the tops of each breast.
“Vous êtes la beauté.” His thumbs swirled in circles around my nipples.
I gasped and arched into his feather light touch. His words, along with those magical fingers, were setting me aflame. “What did you say?” I asked in a breathy whisper.
He leaned forward and kissed me above my heart. “I said that you are art.” Then he moved to my breasts and kissed the fleshy tops of each. I sucked in a breath and held it. “You are love.” His tongue came out and twirled around one peak, then the other, forcing a gasp out of me. “You are beauty.” His mouth encircled my nipple and sucked hard in long drawn out pulls until the areola was prickling with sensation and tight as a knot.
My hands were not idle. I ran my nails up and down his long back then curled my fingers into his hair. The strands of his long tresses dangled along my body as he made his way down my chest to my belly. With ease, he pulled off my pants and underwear simultaneously. He situated himself between my legs and lifted one in the air. He kissed my instep, up my ankle all the way to the back of my knee where he licked and nipped. I had no idea the back of my knee was such an erogenous zone, but hell, my sex was weeping for attention, and he hadn’t even touched me there yet. Alec repeated the same movement on the other side only taking extra special care not to tweak the dressing on my bad ankle. When he got to the back of my knee, I visibly shivered.
“Cold?” He asked on a grin. He knew I wasn’t, but like before, he enjoyed toying with me. I had to admit the anticipation of what he’d do next had become part of the experience, and I relished it.
I shook my head as he put my leg down. He cupped both kneecaps and butterflied my legs out. “I want to taste your beauty on my tongue.” His eyebrow quirked up almost as if he was asking permission. He waited long moments his gaze never leaving mine. He was asking permission. I licked my lips and tipped my chin. His eyes turned dark, heavy with intent. Like a jaguar, his shoulders moved into position and just as I looked down to see his beautiful body in between my legs, he struck, lightning fast. His mouth was on me and his tongue deep inside.
“Oh, God!” I roared before clinging to his head. He was not slow in his movements like I expected. Most men started off slow, tentative. Not Alec. No, he attacked my sex liked he’d never get
another chance. Within, his tongue flicked delectably against every millimeter within his reach. Little bouts of electricity buzzed from my sex and outward. The scruff of his beard grated along the lips and sides of my center as he partook. The sounds he was making were animalistic, growling, groaning and humming with delight as my body bucked against his face.
Alec brought his fingers into the mix. A thumb twirled around my O-trigger while his tongue searched my heat. I slammed my hands on the bed and gripped the sheets in my fists as an orgasm coiled tight starting low at my spine and spreading out over my body like ivy crawling a fence. It coated me with its power, the very surface of my skin buzzing with the need for release.
“So divine. You are sweet, ma jolie.” he lapped at his fingers before putting them inside me and hooking them up and yanking down. “Like the finest champagne.” He lapped at the spot, and I groaned, the orgasm he’d built ready to burst. “I may never get enough. I’m going to gorge on your sweetness until I taste your cream, chérie.” His words were positively filthy, but were the bit I needed to throw me over the edge. “Ah, yes.” He tugged on my insides with fingers, lapped at my O-trigger, while my entire body tightened pleasurably into extreme nirvana.
At the height of my release, he pulled his fingers out, licked me around the tiny rosette at my backside which made me jerk and shake, then sucked at my cleft, literally drinking from me. When he was done and my orgasm had petered out, he held my legs open wider. I figured he’d climb up me and put his cock inside. At least that’s what I was hoping for, about to beg for. He had other plans.
Moving slowly up my center with his tongue he placed a finger at the tiny rosette below my slit and twirled the digit around it, gradually pressing a centimeter inside. I gasped and pulled my hips back not sure if I wanted an invasion in that dark place, but I couldn’t help the tremors of excitement that jumped through me as he touched it. Alec was an observant man. He noticed my response and as I looked down he grinned, then sunk his teeth into the flesh of his beautiful bottom lip. I wanted to do that. Frustrated in every way, I plopped my head back down. “Fuck me, Alec,” I begged and gripped at the sheets once more.
“Non, pas encore,” he murmured into my flesh.
I didn’t know what that meant, but I did know what encore meant in English, and I was all for that.
This time when his tongue laved, it was slow, deliberate in its movement against my sex. It was as if he was soothing the flesh, possibly memorizing it. After a while, I got impatient. My hips gyrated side to side and around as he stroked with his tongue and fingers. Without further preparation, he slid two fingers inside me. I groaned. Finally! But before I could get into the joy of having his thick fingers exactly where I wanted them, he slid out. Not for long. His tongue replaced his fingers licking inside then moving up to my hot spot. Once he touched down there, I was back on my way to another incredible orgasm.
“Fuck yes,” I lifted my hips and grabbed at his hair, forcing his face onto me. He didn’t disappoint. He took that as the need to go faster, push harder, take more. I loved every second, so far gone in my search for the second peak, I didn’t realize he had a moistened finger circling that secret place no man had ever touched until it was too late. That finger pushed down on the rosette, pressing in while he simultaneously sucked hard on my O-trigger. My hips tried to thrust into the air but Alec held them down, fucking my ass with his finger as I shook. It felt different, burning, and so insanely good I started to push into it, wanting it harder, faster.
“Tres belle,” he whispered and kissed my clit. He was soft with my sex but ravaging with my ass, plundering in, pushing me up the bed with each force of his hand into my body. I reveled in it, allowing him to take me in that dark way. A place no one’s ever been before. A place I didn’t even know I wanted to go until he took me there. My Frenchie.
Alec lifted up sitting on his shins but kept his hand working me over. He placed his other hand to manipulate me where I needed him most. I gasped and closed my eyes knowing he was watching me.
“Ouvrez les yeux,” he said, then in English he continued, “Open your eyes.” I did as he bade. His eyes were black. No hint of the tawny brown they were normally. “I like to see you. Remember your face when you’re inner beauty is brightest.”
He pushed hard into me, and I gasped then jerked my hips. He fucked me hard with his fingers and when he pinched my clit between thumb and index finger with his other hand, I took flight. Literally left the plane I was in, my body opened up, free as a bird while Alec gave me my wings.
Somewhere in my subconscious, I heard a crackling noise and the scent of rubber wafted across my nose. Alec’s hands cupped my shoulders and then he was there, pressing his length into me. The denim of his jeans scraped along my inner thighs as he thrust deep. It was like the pleasure was never going to end. I hadn’t even come down fully when he’d plowed his thick length into me. He groaned into my hair, and I clasped my limbs around his body, holding him close, loving the warmth of skin as he pressed in and out.
“Chaud, soyeux, et parfait,” he said before kissing me fully. I opened my mouth and let him enter me in all ways, joining with him the way I wanted to from the moment I saw his picture. He was hard, long, and deep inside me. I never wanted him to stop, yet I wanted him to get there more. To feel what he’d given me two times already. So, with all my might, I shifted my weight and rolled over on top of him. That’s when I worked him hard.
His hands immediately came to my hips and helped guide me up and down on his thick cock. He was magnificent like this. The muscles in his forearms tightened and strained with every thrust. A sheen of sweat built up over the bumpy highway of his abdominal muscles. I leaned down at one point and licked and sucked the flat disk of his nipple.
“Putain oui” he said through clenched teeth, his jaw working overtime. I nibbled and bit at his nipple until it was dark and erect then moved over to its mate and did the same. Alec’s fingers dug into my hips signaling his need to be taken harder. I lifted back up, flung my hair back behind me, and rode him…hard. Every press down I ground into his pelvis sending sparks of excitement through my sex where I clamped down using my internal muscles, giving him as good as I’d gotten.
He spoke in rapid French. I couldn’t understand any of it. He sat up, pushed with his feet until he was at the headboard. He leaned my body back and physically slid me on and off his cock. The French started back up again as he watched himself enter my body over and over. As much as I wanted this to be for him, I couldn’t help that he was winding me up again. My body was coiled tight like a snake, and he knew it, too. He leaned his mouth forward and sucked hard on my nipples making them dark red raspberries until he couldn’t take it anymore.
Finally, his head hit the headboard and I grasped the top of the headboard for leverage. That’s when I took us both over the edge, barreling into a sea of sweet nothingness, the only sounds our strained breathing as we cried out in mutual release, my center putting a lockdown around his shaft the likes of which I’d never thought possible before. He held me close still pressing his hips up from beneath me, rubbing out the very last tremors of pleasure.
We stayed that way, me strung up on his cock, sitting in his lap, my hands still hanging onto the headboard. His hands moved up and down my back, arms, thighs as if he needed to touch me, to believe I was really there. I could understand it. When you leave yourself like that, and the pleasure is so extreme, you need something repetitive to bring you back.
Little by little our heartbeats calmed down, and I tucked my arms behind his back and held him close. He didn’t let me go, either, preferring to touch and kiss me wherever he could reach. It was nice—really nice if I was being honest with myself.
For a moment, it reminded me of Wes. Sweet, beautiful, down to Earth, Wes. The one man, the only man I think I could ever truly fall in love with. I took a harsh breath and prevented the tears from coming. I wasn’t cheating. I. Was. Not. Cheating. Even though I kept telling myse
lf, there still was a hint of guilt hovering over me like a machete ready to lop of my head.
“What’s the matter?” Alec asked pushing me back so he could see my eyes.
I shook my head. These were not thoughts I ever planned on sharing with Alec or anyone for that matter. “Just relaxing against you,” I kissed his nose then nuzzled him there. “We should clean up, take care of the um…” I looked down and Alec’s gaze followed.
“Ah, the condom, yes, I should do that.” He lifted me off and then got up pulled off the condom and tied it at the end before setting it into a tissue and putting it in a wastebasket. I imagine the last thing he wanted to do was go down the stairs to the bathroom though that’s exactly what I needed to do. I rolled to my back and groaned. “What is it?”
“I have to pee,” I mumbled and he laughed. Before I could say anything, he lifted me up from the bed in his favorite princess hold and carried me down the stairs to the bathroom. Once in front of the toilet, he set me down and moved out the door.
“I’ll make us a snack, oui?”
“Oui,” I responded and he chuckled before shutting the door. I took care of my business quickly and then grabbed for the robe on the back of the door. It was a lush deep burgundy color that felt like squishy awesomeness over my bare skin. I didn’t want to hop out there completely naked.
I hopped my way to the kitchen. He had a tray of items in one hand and a couple glasses of wine in the other. Still, he was bare-assed naked, and I greatly enjoyed the view. His tattoo slithered along his body and that reminded me how much I wanted to trace it…with my tongue.
“Un moment,” he said as he jaunted up the stairs to the loft bedroom. Before I knew it, he was rushing down the stairs, his dick flapping in the wind. I giggled as he made his way over to me. “What?” he asked a lovely smile adorned his face. When he was happy, he was less intense artist and more friendly Frenchie. Though I thoroughly enjoyed both very much.
February (Calendar Girl #2) Page 4