Marietta Hotels 2: An Engagement in Paris

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Marietta Hotels 2: An Engagement in Paris Page 10

by Rachell Nichole


  “Bonsoir, ma belle,” he greeted her, kissing her on the cheek. She turned and wrapped her arms around him, leaning in and kissing the sensitive skin of his neck.

  She sighed.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

  “Good.”

  “I have some friends for you to meet. Mom told two of the girls I went to school with about the wedding, and they flew out here for the week. Got in this morning. It was so good to see them. I…I hadn’t realized how important it would be for me to have them here.”

  He rubbed her back gently. “That’s because you were so against getting married at first.”

  She pulled back from him, shock in her honey eyes.

  “Je te connais, ma belle. I knew from the start this wedding was more for your mom and me than it was for you. But now look. You’re glowing.” And he couldn’t be happier. He’d needed to marry her in a way he hadn’t needed anything else in his life. Living together wasn’t enough for him. He didn’t think it ever would be. But now he didn’t have to worry. She was his.

  “Oh, God. Don’t say that!”

  “What?” Just when he was feeling secure, she went and hollered at him. What the hell had he done now?

  “Say I’m glowing. That’s what people say about a pregnant lady. And don’t get me wrong; Sophie is amazing. She’s perfect, and I love her with all my heart. But we are not ready for another child. So no, there will be no mention of me and glowing.”

  He laughed. “D’accord. Forget I said it, ma belle. I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t sound sorry. You sound amused.”

  He grinned, and she tapped him lightly on the arm, stepping back from him. “Stop that. You don’t want me pregnant again, do you?”

  “Yes.” At her glare, he added, “But not so soon.”

  “Good. That’s settled, then.”

  “Do we have plans to meet these friends of yours tonight?” he asked, hoping the disappointment didn’t show in his speech.

  “No. Addy just texted me to tell me they were going to relax for a while this evening and then go exploring the city. But maybe we’ll meet for breakfast? We’re spending the day at the spa tomorrow. Oh, which reminds me. Layla’s mother is here. And she’s a real piece of work.”

  “A real piece of work?” He hated it when Mandy used idioms he wasn’t familiar with. But she always explained them well, and without the frustration he sometimes feared when talking with a native English speaker.

  “Um. Yeah. Someone who’s not very nice, I guess. It’s kind of an odd expression, actually. She’s not terribly likable.” Mandy spoke with her hands, gesturing in front of her body when she couldn’t find the right words. “But she seems to be trying to fix things between her and Layla, so I told Lay to invite her to the spa tomorrow. She’s gotta meet Mom anyway. Should be interesting.”

  “Ah, I see. Un con, alors?”

  “Oui, an ass is probably a good translation. I don’t think there’s an equivalent in French.” She tilted her head to the side. “So, why didn’t you want to go meet my girls tonight?”

  Busted, as Mandy would say. He should have known he couldn’t hide his reluctance to go out. She knew him so well, even after being together only a little over a year.

  “We’ve been tasked with choosing a cake for the reception. Layla gave me a list this morning of things to do before Friday. She’s taking care of almost everything for us, so the few things on our list are really the least we could do.”

  “Aha. So you want to stuff your face. And here I was thinking you had something more inventive in mind.” The gleam in Mandy’s eyes made his body clench.

  “Don’t worry, ma belle. I assure you we’ll have plenty of fun while fulfilling our matrimonial duties.”

  A knock on the door reverberated through the room. “That should be the baker with our selection.”

  Shaking her head, Mandy followed him into the main room. “Dessert for dinner?”

  “Of course. Pourquoi pas?”

  “Because we’ll get fat. That’s why not.”

  “I promise we’ll burn off all the calories we eat.”

  At that, Mandy’s eyes turned dark, and she bit her bottom lip. “I’m gonna hold you to that promise, Monsieur Chevalier.”

  “I hope so, Mademoiselle Lachlan.”

  He opened the door, and a man in a white chef’s suit wheeled in a cart filled with plates. “Alors, voici vos sélections, et le liste des choix.” He handed Julien the list detailing all the cakes.

  “Wow,” Mandy said beside him. Indeed. After telling them he would get their choices in the morning, the chef left with a soft click of the door. “There’s no way I’ll be able to choose just one. You know how I am about cake.”

  He certainly did. “Layla said we can do a couple tiers or small petit fours if we want.” Julien grabbed hold of the cart handles and started wheeling it away.

  “Hey, where are you going with my cake?” Mandy demanded, stalking him.

  “To bed, of course. You didn’t think we were going to eat all this with our clothes on, did you? We’d never be able to get out of them afterward,” he teased.

  Mandy laughed. As soon as they entered the bedroom, she closed the doors behind them and leaped onto the bed. The casual skirt and shirt she wore hugged her curves as she lay on the comforter. She loved wearing pastels, and he loved the way today’s yellow and pink looked against her dark, flawless skin. She’d been working hard to “get back into shape,” as she said. But she would always look amazing to him.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing, just enjoying the view.”

  “Well, get over here, and bring that cake with you. I’m starving.”

  Chuckling, he moved the cart to the side of the bed and poured two glasses of water. He set them on the nightstand and climbed up beside Mandy. He kissed her gently, savoring the taste of her lips. Only his beauty, his belle, could be so full of spice and life but insist on wearing sweet pastels and vanilla lip gloss. She moaned deep in her throat as she kissed him back with the fiery passion he’d seen lurking in her from day one.

  How much fun he’d had exploring those desires with her.

  Julien threaded his fingers through her relaxed hair. He’d always loved the rough and yet smooth texture of her natural hair. She was not one of those women who needed fake nails or a weave to enhance her beauty. He trailed his fingers out of her hair, down the back of her neck, and lower, to the hem of her T-shirt. Inching it up, he sat back so he could remove the material and let his gaze rove over her. She wore a full corset, light pink embellished with white lace and bows. He chuckled. That was his Mandy: sweet and innocent on the outside and dominatrix hellcat beneath.

  She grinned. “Well, don’t stop there.” She lifted her hips in invitation, and he dipped his fingers below the waistband of the flowing yellow-and-pink skirt and slid it down her hips. Each inch revealed matching pink-and-white panties. Thong, he corrected himself as his hands grazed her bare ass. The smooth skin beneath his fingers shivered as he continued taking off the skirt.

  He pushed the fabric to the other side of the bed, and Mandy laid her upper body against the tall stack of pillows, her arms spread wide. The movement made her breasts heave dangerously high in the corset, just a hint of her areolae showing.

  “May I feed you, Mistress?” he asked.

  She dipped her head in acquiescence, never taking her eyes from his. He stood, pulling off clothes as he went, so that by the time he reached the first plate of cake, he was naked.

  “Mmmm,” she moaned in approval as he turned, already half-hard, toward her. He crawled across the bed and pushed the fork into the edge of the small piece of cake.

  “This is chocolate cake with a raspberry filling,” he said as he picked up the morsel with his fingers. He held the cake to her lips, waiting for her to open. When she did, he slipped his fingers inside. His b
alls spasmed when her tongue slid along his skin. He pulled his hand from her mouth as she savored the food.

  Watching her mouth and throat work as she swallowed had him fully erect in a matter of seconds. “Maybe. Next,” she commanded. He cut another small piece of cake and fed it to her. “Nope.”

  He moved on to the third one. Lemon. He knew she wouldn’t like this one. His beauty was too sweet to like something this sour. “This is lemon. Would you like to try it?”

  She shook her head, and he grabbed the next plate. “Vanilla with strawberry filling,” he said. She nodded slowly, and he brought it to her.

  Mandy’s gaze fixated on his body instead of the cake in his hand. He grinned. His plan to slowly seduce her back to herself was working. He could tell that every passing moment she spent focused on him, on them, made her more secure.

  With each piece of cake and lick of her tongue, Julien’s desire grew. He watched her part her lips on a pant and wondered how long she would force them to wait. The cake would still be there when he was done making her body his once more. But she seemed in no hurry to end the delicious torture.

  When she nibbled on his finger as well as the cake he was feeding her, Julien groaned. She laughed, a low, breathy sound of delight, making his whole body clench. “I liked that last one. Coconut and lime. Let’s keep that one on the list. Actually, let’s eat that entire piece.”

  He brought the plate and fork to her. She cut off a piece and lifted the fork to her mouth. He followed the movement with his gaze. She dipped the fork into her mouth and closed her lips around it, sliding it out a moment later.

  The heat radiating from her body as he sat mere inches from her made goose bumps crawl along his skin. She hooked an arm around the back of his neck and pulled his head down to hers until their lips connected. He licked along her lips, then opened his mouth to hers. When Mandy dipped her tongue in to tease his, she brought the taste of coconut and lime with her, and he relished the flavor. The dessert mixed on his tongue with the unique taste of this delight beneath him.

  She leaned back against the pillows, and he followed her, laying his body atop hers and kissing her again and again until he was dizzy. She moaned and squirmed.

  “Make me come, Julien. Now. Hurry,” she commanded.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mandy’s body was going up in flames. “Anything, ma belle. Anything for you,” Julien whispered, then trailed hot kisses down the column of her neck to her breasts. They threatened to overflow the top of the corset, and each rapid pant ground her nipples against the soft fabric until she was ready to scream, aching for release.

  She closed her eyes, delighting in the sweet-and-sour taste in her mouth as Julien worked his way down her body. He left the corset alone, not bothering with the lengthy process of untying it. She had insisted he hurry, after all. She’d gotten more and more irritated wearing it this afternoon with no relief. But now that she was here, spread out like a buffet in front of Julien, she was glad she’d worn it. The fabric of her tight thong rubbed against the edges of her entrance as Julien spread her thighs wide.

  She cried out at the first touch of his hot mouth against her thong. Clutching the pillows, she thrashed as Julien licked and nibbled her mound through the lace.

  “Ah—Damn it, I said hurry!” She tried to make the words harsh, to command his obedience, but she was too lost to the erotic haze lapping at her, dragging her under. The words emerged a plea, a cry for release. He held all the power now, but she couldn’t be bothered to care. He could be evil. Hold her on that precipice forever if he wanted to before granting her what she so desired. What she needed.

  She waited, her muscles wound tight, her whole being on that razor’s edge.

  “Yes, baby.” He rose, laying his hard length against her front.

  What the hell? She wanted to scream her frustration, rake her nails against his skin in punishment until he gave her what she wanted. But as he thrust hard against her, she wailed.

  He pushed his hands into the top of the corset and yanked her breasts free of the tight fabric. He dipped his head and pulled her nipple between his teeth as he continued to thrust against her clit with his cock.

  “Oh, God.” She bucked beneath him. “More!”

  He found her free nipple with one hand and pinched hard. With the other, he ripped away her thong and lifted one leg over his arm. He slammed his full length inside her and bit down on her breast. She screamed her release, her sheath clenching him hard as she shook and spasmed beneath his strong body.

  He licked and sucked her nipple, teasing the other with his fingers as he pounded into her again and again. She was climbing the rafters already, one orgasm falling into the next as he ground his pelvis against her sensitive clit. She hollered his name and clutched his hair, tugging until he cried out around her nipple and jerked inside her, joining her in bliss.

  Julien sighed, finally releasing her limp body and resting his head against her chest. “Yes, we must have this cake for Friday,” he said, licking the edge of her nipple.

  She giggled at the tickling touch and his decision. “Mm-hmm. I agree.” She reached for one of the glasses of water on the bedside table and lifted her upper body enough to take a few sips. He’d helped her burn off some calories, just as he promised he would. “I love you,” she said.

  “I know.” He levered himself up with his arms, and his body slipped from hers. She flicked him lightly on the nipple, and his breath hissed out of him, his eyes half closing. God, she loved how responsive his body was to her touch.

  She knelt on the bed and turned, holding up her short hair. “Undress me,” she whispered, setting down the glass.

  Julien crawled behind her, pressing his legs against hers as his fingers traced the upper edge of the corset. He placed a kiss on her exposed back, and she shivered. She was just as responsive to his touch as he was to hers.

  “God, I could do this with you forever,” he said.

  “That’s what we’re signing up for, right? We’re not going to be one of those couples that gets married and has a bunch of kids and never has sex again, are we?”

  He tugged a bit harder than necessary on her laces, and she gasped. “Well, if we’re going to have that many children, we’ll at least have to have that much sex.” He worked his fingers down the length of the laces, and the pressure against her ribs lessened.

  “We better have sex way more than that.”

  “As my lady commands,” he said, releasing the last of the laces and sliding the corset up her torso and over her head. He laid it on the bed beside them and moved in close behind her, wrapping his arms around her and palming her breasts. “We can have as much sex as you want. Any way you want.” He kissed her neck with long, wet strokes of his tongue that made her pant and moan. Spirals of desire spread out from everywhere his body touched, turning her into one mass of sensation.

  He nibbled and caressed her neck, keeping possession of one breast and trailing the fingers of his free hand down her abdomen and to the juncture of her thighs. Her legs clenched, threatening to give out, but Julien’s strong arms held her in place. The feel of his hard muscles against her back and around her relaxed her.

  She was safe here.

  Warm.

  Wanted.

  Julien stopped, holding her body open and captive but not touching the most sensitive spots where she longed for his attention. She wouldn’t beg. She’d come too close to begging before, letting herself get too lost in pleasure. She could let him tease and torture her as much as she had tortured him with her light touches as he’d fed her morsel after morsel of delicious dessert.

  Julien cupped her mound with his large hand, holding heat to her core but still barely touching her. He slipped his other hand along her chest, each swell of her breasts, and up to her shoulders, down her back to her hips, along the curve of her ass, while keeping a motionless palm pushed against her damp curls. She ached for him. Her hot channel yearned for more. She moaned, thrusting her hi
ps against his hand in a silent plea.

  He chuckled in her ear, his breath skittering across the sensitive flesh. Julien knew what he was doing to her. What her body wanted. And what he could deny her before granting her release.

  He kneaded her ass cheek, and she felt him shifting behind her. His cock moved from her back and slid between her legs, the length touching the edges of her entrance. But he was at the wrong angle to enter her. God, he’d better put her out of her misery soon, or she’d burst.

  Finally he spread her folds and trailed his hand up and down her slick vulva. She jerked against his hand, her body too far gone to stay still as sensations assaulted her. Her thighs clenched around his cock; she couldn’t help it. She tried to create the friction he was denying her in any way she could.

  Julien laid her facedown against the plush pillows and pushed that first delicious inch into her channel. Her muscles clutched his shaft, and she moaned at the thick, stretching invasion. With exquisite slowness, Julien thrust deeper. Mandy cried out when he was in to the hilt. This angle hit her in all the right places and sent her spiraling out of control in seconds.

  Julien slammed into her again, and she screamed as the orgasm claimed her body.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “She’s coming.” Layla’s declaration was panicked, and it left Mandy confused as they walked toward the elevator. The well-lit hallway around her had become familiar in the few days she’d spent at the hotel. But her mind was elsewhere, and she had no idea what the hell Layla was talking about.

  “My mother agreed to come to the spa with us. She said she’d meet us there. Oh, God. I’m gonna hurl.”

  Layla did look a little ill, actually. Mandy leaped forward and put her hands on Layla’s shoulders before she passed out. “Whoa, honey, relax. It’s going to be fine.”

  “I haven’t spent more than a few minutes in that woman’s company in years. And for good reason. Why did she have to say yes? She never says yes when I ask her for something.”

  “When was the last time you tried?”

  Layla blinked, her brow becoming lined. “I don’t know. When I was a kid, maybe. I can’t remember.”

 

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