She was his. He knew it. She knew it. Hell, everyone knew it. Now, she could admit it.
Come and get me, she pleaded with her eyes.
You’re already caught, he responded with his as he kicked off his boots and stepped out of his jeans revealing what he wore beneath them: nothing but golden, rippled muscle framing a big, hard cock.
“Being bold becomes you,” he said as he tossed his jeans to the side.
“Everything becomes me,” she sassed back.
“Indeed, especially me,” he said with a smirk.”
“You’re so damn arrogant,” she breathed.
“With good reason,” he said as he slowly and rhythmically stroked his cock.
Always turned on when he touched himself, Alchemy reached up and squeezed her nipples. It was so easy to imagine his mouth on her breasts. Hearing his soft growl, she smiled. She reveled in knowing that she had the power to bring this strong man to his knees.
“You want me, I.R.I.S.H.?” she purred.
“There has never been a time when I haven’t,” he admitted.
“I know,” she said. And she did. His want was right there all over his face for everyone to witness.
“Come closer,” she tempted. “Then come.”
“I intend to, many times. But first, you will come,” he said as he gently pulled her down the bed so that her sex was on the edge. “After I make you beg.”
“Who says I will beg for what is already mine.”
“I say,” he said as he slapped her hand away and traced her sex through her panties.
Shuddering beneath his touch, she bit her lip in an effort to hold back her moan. It almost worked but then he slipped his fingers into her panties. “Is that all you have?” she sassed.
“I have eight other fingers, a talented tongue and ten inches of cock to go with this,” he said.
“Then give them to me…and then surrender.”
“What makes you think that I’m going to be the one to surrender, especially when so far it’s never happened?”
“Mathematics. You Acadian boys seem to have quite a time catching your women,” she said thinking about the chase Aris’s woman had led him on.
“True…” he said as he leaned over her.
Arching up into his strength, Alchemy breathed him in. She closed her eyes and lost herself in his scent. He smelled so good damn good…and tasted even better.
“…but once an Acadian male catches his woman, we have no problem holding onto them,” he said as he yanked off her panties and thrust two fingers into her.
“I.R.I.S.H.,” she begged. Yes, begged dammit.
“Alchemy,” he rasped against her skin before pulling her breast into his hot mouth.
“F-f-fuckkkkkkk,” she breathed out as she wrapped her legs around him. “Fuck.”
“You want me, cher?” he asked as he rubbed his glorious body over hers, marking her with his scent, mapping her body with his touch.
“Yes,” she admitted because there was no other answer. She could hardly recall a time when she didn’t want him.
Recalling the first time she saw him in his t-shirt and stonewashed jeans, she couldn’t have imagined that he possessed such a sharp mind. Being in the strong arms of her rough-hewn, tatted Cajun, she marveled at how gently he could touch her. She loved this man, loved him, loved him, loved him. Right now, she didn’t need him to be gentle; she needed him wild, just as wild as she was.
Côme had given Andoni one instruction: keep Alchemy occupied for just a few hours until he could get back from the jewelers. What did the arrogant Spaniard do? He started shit. While Côme knew that Andoni wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his relationship with Alchemy, hearing Tai Napier’s name in conjunction with Alchemy’s made him crazy. The world-class rugby player/international playboy would die if he got too close to Alchemy.
Completing his business with the jeweler, he’d jumped on his bike and headed straight to Alchemy’s to propose. This wasn’t how he’d planned to let Alchemy know she would be marrying him but it’d have to do. He’d waited as long as he was going to wait to make her his wife.
Côme had spent the past three months carrying out a sophisticated siege. Yes, a siege because Alchemy Coffee was one stubborn, hard-headed woman even when everything she wanted was right in front of her. Make no mistake about it, she wanted him and he was right there in front of her…all the damn time.
After seeing her in Andoni’s kitchen that first day, his body and mind had been at war. Côme’s body had urged him to spread her out and take her repeatedly until she was pregnant with his child or children since Acadians tended to birth multiples. His mind had urged him to find a priest and make her Mrs. Côme Acadian.
Côme hadn’t hauled her off to the closest priest or taken her in Andoni’s kitchen, despite wanting to. He had, however, high-tailed it back to New Orleans where he’d packed up his office in record time. Sweet-talking Sarita into taking care of his house, he was back in Atlanta two days later. Within a week, he’d taken care of the necessary paperwork and legalese in order to set up shop.
With his business situation settled, he was free to focus all of his energies on his reason for being: Alchemy. He took Alchemy out for lunch…and dinner…and then offered himself up for dessert once he realized just how sensual a woman Alchemy was. It wasn’t anything she said but what she did. Alchemy leaned into his touch with her body and sought him out with her eyes. Knowing she was attracted to him, Côme shamelessly used his body to seduce the vixen. In the end, however, it was he who succumbed.
Getting a brief feel of her abundant curves in Andoni’s kitchen had whetted his appetite. However, getting a prolonged feel of her against the wall of her foyer had pushed him over the edge. Though he was a good head and shoulders taller than her, Alchemy fit him just right. He knew she worried that her two hundred forty pounds was too much so he spent every moment proving to her that not only could he handle it but that he relished the privilege.
Just as Alchemy’s body fit him just right, so did her mind. Côme was far from a snob but the biggest turn off in a woman was one who couldn’t think an original thought. Alchemy had no problem expressing her opinion, sharing her conviction even when she was the only one who felt it, or telling him that she thought he was full of shit.
Côme didn’t have the benefit of years of conversations and experiences with Alchemy to learn who she was as a person; he’d learned who she was from the simple things. Simple things such as the diligence with which she went about her work; the tenderness with which she treated those she loved; and, the kindness with which she treated strangers. Alchemy loved deeply, held a grudge like nobody’s business, and laughed easily. She was confident without being a snob; smart without being arrogant; funny without being silly. Despite how much shit Alchemy gave him and how much she denied it, that woman was his. He’d fight the world for her…and win.
Côme couldn’t help but smile as he walked into their townhouse. Yes, “theirs” despite the fact that Alchemy was listed as the sole owner. Alchemy hadn’t meant to share it with him, but he’d decided that he was sharing his life with her so a few days after he set eyes on the voluptuous beauty, he’d simply started moving his shit in bit by bit until everything he owned that was portable was moved in. That had taken all of two days, much to her consternation.
“Is that your shit in my closet?” she’d asked one day when she’d noticed he’d moved his things in.
“Yep,” he’d said as he rolled over and feigned sleep. He only feigned sleep because he wasn’t crazy enough to go to sleep with an angry Alchemy within bludgeoning distance of his noggin.
“When are you going to leave?” she’d ask each morning.
“Never,” he’d reply even as he gave Alchemy her ‘good morning, beautiful’ orgasm.
It was a good thing he was good with his cock, generous with his orgasms, and had cat-like reflexes otherwise Alchemy would’ve put him out with the garbage. Not that he’d allow her
to do such a task when she had a man in the house.
Until he raced home and set his eyes on her, Côme hadn’t realized that his heart had been beating so fast. He had to will himself to calm down, had to remind himself that she was his and that none in the room would do anything to alter that. Sitting at her side, he helped himself to one of her chocolates, then to her lips and finally to her sex.
“Do you have on panties?” he’d asked knowing good and damn well she did and anticipating what she’d do when she was forced to admit that she did.
He’d commanded her to run…relished it even, as he enjoyed nothing more than chasing her. Not even bothering to excuse himself from their table, he stripped off his shirt and made his way upstairs…to his future.
Spying Alchemy lying on the bed pleasuring herself caused everything in him to go still. She was so fucking beautiful lying in their bed touching his pussy. Yes, his pussy, just like every damn thing else on her. He knew she was going to say something to bait him just as he knew he wouldn’t fall for the bait. It was useless to do so when he’d already fallen for the woman herself. Still, he did enjoy hearing her taunt him. Her taunts highlighted her creativity…and the fact that she had complete confidence in him. Even though he scared the shit out of most men, Alchemy had no fear of him…even when he was angry, for she knew he’d never hurt her with either words or action.
Stepping out of his boots and pants, he leisurely stroked himself knowing just how much it turned her on. Alchemy nearly came off of the bed when he squeezed the head. While he didn’t laugh, he was sure he smirked and he was equally sure she saw it…especially when she amped up her shit-talking.
Again, he could only smile—inwardly—at her taunts. As much as he was baiting her, she was getting some back. She not only made him hard; she made him needy and thankful. She was everything to him, and while he enjoyed jawing with her, he really had to do something about those panties she was wearing. Ripping the delicate scrap of lace off of her curves, he thrust his fingers into her velvet warmth and almost spilled.
What this woman did to him. And how he loved it all…including her ridiculous question. “Do you want me?” How could he do anything but? He’d tell her but more than that, he’d show her.
“Mine, Alchemy,” he commanded as he spread her out beneath him pondering all the things he was going to do to her so that she would beg for him. He loved it when she begged him because begging always preceded demanding. After she begged him to take her, she’d demand him to take her harder, make her come, and then make her come some more. He always did, but then he’d back off wanting to hear the litany of pants, moans and mewls he always reduced her to.
“Mine,” he reiterated.
“Maybe,” she sassed just because she could.
Chuckling in her ear, he allowed her to feel his girth and get comfortable with it. Taking her breast in his mouth, he attempted to pull back but Alchemy wasn’t cooperating. Emitting a harsh curse, she wrapped her thick legs around him.
It was a good thing he was a strong man. Allowing her to draw him in, he settled his bulk atop her. Wanting to mark her in his scent, he blanketed her with his strength. Losing himself in the feel of her, he spread her wider, pulled back and plunged into her in a single thrust.
“I.R.I.S.H.!” she screamed.
Normally, hearing her scream his name in passion was enough but right now he wanted to hear more.
“Côme,” he corrected. “Say it,” he demanded as he pulled out of her heat.
Not happy that he’d not only withdrawn her pleasure but dangled it before her, she sassed him some more. “Make me,” she demanded as she reached up and licked his nipple.
Fuckkkkkkkkkk, she was killing him…killing him so damn good though. “Gladly,” Côme said as he teased her opening with his cock without giving her the friction that she needed.
“Give it to me,” she demanded as she sank her nails into his arms and arched into him.
Damn, damn, damn, fuck, he moaned inwardly. His body wanted to go into overdrive but his mind cautioned for finesse. “Moan the name of the man who loves this body so well,” he said as he hovered at her entrance. “Pant the name of the man who loves you so completely,” he whispered against her ear. “Roar the name of the man who will love you always,” he rasped as he pulled back and held her eyes showing her everything he was and everything he aspired to be.
Perhaps surprised at his words, Alchemy gasped and when she did, he slid fully into her and rocked himself into her heat in time to her pants, silently urging her to do as he bid.
“Cô-me,” she broke his name into parts and whisper-sobbed it.
“Alchemy,” he whispered back fiercely as he peered into her eyes.
“Cô-me,” she moan-panted as she clenched around him.
“Alchemy,” he rasped and pushed one of her thighs higher up on his hip.
“Cô-me!” she roared and fell apart around him.
“Alchemy!” he answered back as he thrust so deeply that he felt her everywhere. “So beautiful. Belle, belle, belle.” Côme wanted to hold that moment forever, which was impossible with the way her love felt wrapped around him. Perhaps he would’ve been able to hold on a moment longer if Alchemy hadn’t touched him…but she did. There was nothing sexual about Alchemy’s touch but the intimacy held him captive. Côme’s body was taut, his heart thundered as Alchemy gently traced the planes of his face with her fingertips as if she was seeing him for the first time.
“So beautiful,” she whispered with such awe he couldn’t fail but to be humbled. He didn’t have to ask her if she meant it when her eyes screamed Amens.
He held still as she closed her eyes and scented him as if she could breathe in his very essence. He held still as she seemed to seep into him, claiming every part of him. Every part of him had been hers from the first moment.
Continuing to hold onto his own orgasm, Côme called upon every ounce of his strength to allow her to have this moment rather than snatching it from her in his desperation to have her. Alchemy worshipped him with her lips, honored him with her eyes, and promised him forevers with her touch. This was supposed to be his seduction and yet, in typical Alchemy fashion, she took it over. “Mine, Côme. Mine.”
Her declaration was just that: a declaration. Uttered with the same determination as William Wilberforce’s 1789 Abolition Speech to the British House of Commons; demonstrating the same passion as Martin Luther King in his Letter from the Birmingham Jail; and holding the same hope as the opening in Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address, her words were everything to him…the ones he’d hold onto for the rest of his life…the hope that would guide him…the promise that would keep him…the inspiration for him to be a man worthy of not just her, but of the Passion.
He’d wanted to take Alchemy roughly because they both liked it that way, but right now he was compelled to take her with every bit of tenderness he possessed. Lord knows, it didn’t seem like he had much tenderness but all that he had was hers. Leaning down, he touched his lips to hers and inhaled needing to taste her love. Traversing the silk of her neck he breathed in the scent of orange blossom and honey. A heady smell, it couldn’t mask the smell of woman and Alchemy was many things, first and foremost a woman.
“Alchemy,” he rasped in her ear. “Je t'aime. Je t'aime.” Moving down her luscious curves, he repeated the promise against the pulse in her neck before taking her mouth again. “J'ai besoin de toi (I need you). Je t'aime.”
Withdrawing from her body, he slid behind her and wrapped Alchemy in his arms. Nibbling a path across the smooth skin of her back, he pressed confessions onto the soft skin. “Tu es l'amour de ma vie (You are the love of my life).”
Though she arched into his kisses, she squirmed beneath him. “Let me up, I.R.I.S.H.”
Reluctantly, he did so. Before his back hit the mattress, Alchemy was there, straddling him. Reaching for his hands, she laced their fingers together. “I love you too, Côme. So, so much.” Before he could respond, she bent do
wn and took his mouth.
He’d tried to hold back…tried to be gentle but Alchemy took his control. Spreading her legs with his, he gathered her hips in his hands, thrust into her heat, and for the first time in his life, surrendered. He loved Alchemy, would give everything for her, was nothing without her.
“My love, my love, my love,” he chanted in time with his thrusts.
“Côme, Côme, Côme,” she responded in harmony.
“Forever. I need you forever,” he said even as his eyes threatened to roll back in his head.
“S'il te plait, s'il te plait, s'il te plait,” he begged as he felt his body reach boiling point.
Though Alchemy didn’t know what he was asking, she replied. “Anything, Côme. Anything.”
“Anything,” he asked as his building orgasm threatened to choke him.”
“Anything,” she promised as she held on tighter and made the climb with him.
“Veux-tu m'épouser?” (Will you marry me?)
“I married you the first moment we met and have been your wife ever since,” she said as tears fell from her eyes.
Humbled, he gathered her closer, fused his lips with hers and let go.
Though all she’d done was receive pleasure, Alchemy collapsed upon I.R.I.S.H.’s chest. She hoped he didn’t expect her to move after that. He didn’t just rock her world; he’d shifted her universe.
“I love you, Alchemy.”
“I know.”
“Did you mean it?”
Alchemy didn’t even pretend like she didn’t know what Côme was asking. There was no need to and despite the amount of shenanigans she got into, Alchemy didn’t make a habit out of lying. Even if she did, she definitely wouldn’t lie to the man that had gifted her with the most exquisite pleasure. “Yes,” she said as she snuggled closer.
Snuggled, because the man kept the air conditioner on a piping hot sixty-two degrees.
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