by Pamela Ann
As much as I hated the thought of it, this was home. Deny it as I might because of my father, there would be no place on earth that felt like home as Greece did. Hugo was the closest thing that felt like home, too.
I wondered what truly prompted him to want to see me after parting once again. I knew I shouldn’t even ponder too hard about it, but it couldn’t be helped how I felt. Call it instinct or what of it, but I truly felt as if he was missing me just as I missed him. Moreover, if that sentiment were true, how did we go on from here? It was getting too hard, too difficult to simply keep resisting each other.
I hoped this would be enough evidence to prove to him that he shouldn’t simply boot me out of his life.
Not just yet…
Chapter 26
Isobel
Armed with nothing but my purse and carryall, I proceeded towards the penthouse suite, buzzed with pure excitement and unmitigated passion. I knew this quick jaunt in Paris was everything and anything sex. Still, as much as I didn’t want to think of it in an animalistic way, I couldn’t help wanting him on the most primal level. He was my drug, my nirvana—my beginning and my end. Plain and simple.
The moment I reached the double doors, I bit my lip as I pressed on the doorbell. I could hear the loud beat of my heart, deafening my ears as I waited with bated breath. I was counting down until he opened the door; as a result, when the damning thing opened at number four, I blew out a short breath the very second my eyes connected with his gaze.
Damn, he never fails to take my breath away, I thought as my eyes devoured him donning nothing but a black terry robe with a five o’clock shadow and the sexiest, most arresting grin I had grown accustomed to seeing.
“You’re so…” I gasped, speechless as my eyes roved about his roguish face. “Everything. I feel as if you should be X-rated or something.”
He smirked before yanking me towards him, smashing my chest against his then planting a slow, fervid kiss on my lips, savoring me as if I was the most beautiful thing he had ever tasted.
After what seemed like forever, he broke our kiss and penetrated my vivid eyes, openly gazing at me with wonderment, like I was precious and one of a kind.
“I’ve missed you,” he gently whispered before his finger softly caressed my cheek, admiring and fully enthralled with the smoothness of my skin.
His admission sent an immense amount of butterflies tumbling inside my gut, leaving me heady and deliriously happy.
“I’ve missed you, too,” I admitted just as I felt my cheeks tinge with pink as I boldly stared at him. “Did I ever tell you I love you even more in a robe?”
His soft chuckle sent tingles all over my body, making me feel truly alive.
“Let’s carry on inside, ma belle. Your personal massage awaits,” he declared as he opened the door wider, letting me inside.
After taking my belongings away from my grasp, Hugo then led me into the bedroom that had been transformed into a whimsical haven with the air heavily scented of rose and a hint of something spicy. I beamed when I found a bathtub filled with frothy bubbles and candles littered everywhere. From the floor to the sink, the place was glowing with romance.
“What is this place? Is this the honeymoon suite or something?” It sure felt like it, but upon seeing his face bubbling in amusement, I knew I was way off my guess. “Well, you did mention a massage when I got here, so where’s the masseuse?” I innocently blinked as my eyes scanned about before I heard him clear his throat to try to get my attention back to him.
“You’re looking at him.”
“You?” I gasped with my eyes dancing. “You want to massage me?” I was left perplexed and clearly not sure how to react to this quite lovely surprise.
Oh. My. Word.
I could feel my cheeks heat up with redness, abundantly elated.
Raising my brow, I teasingly toyed with my lips, loving every moment of this. “You’re trying to get me naked, aren’t you?”
“It’s a start…” he provocatively rasped out, his eyes playful and growing more wicked by the second. “But I do intend to have you, in all ways I can. I’m going to fuck you senseless, ma belle. So much so that your legs won’t be able to hold you straight.” The seductive way he was whispering in my ear sent shivers along my skin, zinging all over my body.
Oh. Mighty. Fuck.
If I died tonight, this would be the perfect way to go.
“Come here.” He came behind me with his lips quite close to my ear, titillating and magnetizing, and I suddenly felt his hands gradually unbuttoning my trousers. Then he seductively lowered my zipper, all the while breathing so erotically in my ear, mesmerizing me, intoxicating me with his signature masculine scent, entrancing me with his spell.
“I want this to be all about you, and only you.” He said the words as if they were a commitment, as if he truly meant them.
Well, I didn’t have any qualms about any of it as long as I was able to have him at the end of it all.
After seductively succeeding in stripping me bare, he then gingerly asked me to head towards the table that was situated in the middle of the room.
Sending him a secretive look, I contemplated what he intended to do with me afterwards. I understood this was all about sex, and at the same time, I was madly crazy for him. Did he know that, the more he showered me with all sorts of romance and whimsical fairytale bits, the more there would be no going back for me? This was it. Even though he would ask me later on to move on, to relish my life the way a young woman should at my age, I would never ever stop loving him.
Buoyantly, I carried on towards the single soft, black leather massage table, noting how he took in every single move I made. Barely giving him a glance, I slipped atop of it before shifting on my stomach, waiting for his cue.
I was comfortably splayed on the table when I felt his warm, sensual hand touch my foot, tenderly massaging it with his large, firm hands. I had never experienced a man—let alone a man of Hugo’s stature—bestowing this kind of personal treatment. I had never felt as lucky until this very instant.
The sensual massage was what I had imagined and then some, but since he and I hadn’t seen each other for almost a week, I felt as if this prolonged reunion of our bodies was an unnecessary sexual dance. Whenever his fingers were close to giving me satisfying pleasure, he immediately pulled back, as if he wanted to torture me more. Call me impatient, but I had been starved, dying to have a piece of him, and it was rather cruel to tease me so in such a cunning fashion.
If his goal was to sexually frustrate me, he was doing a mighty fine job at it.
“Hugo,” I sullenly hissed out because I was about to reach my limit from being literally toyed too far.
“Oui, ma belle?” he innocently asked, as if he had no idea what he was purposely doing to me and my body.
“Could you … umm … you know … maybe hasten the process a little bit?” I was trying to be patient here, but how could one persevere when he kept brushing certain erogenous zones and leaving me wanting?
He made a deep, husky, amused laugh. “I do adore how blatantly frank you are.”
He thought it funny. How splendid! Seriously.
A sharp gasp came out of my lips when I felt his mouth enclose my toe before gently sucking it, using his tongue to tease me, sending electrifying currents from head to foot and everything in between. I bit into my bottom lips quite hard when his free hand sought the crevice of my thighs, and his middle finger briskly teased my sweet button.
For the life of me, I just could not fathom how I would survive another second of this torture. It was the sweetest of agonies, but it was torture in the finest form all the same.
“Hugo…” I moaned his name, begging to be relieved of my torment.
“Very well…” he sighed with feigned melancholy. “Lift your hips,” he said in a commanding tone.
Doing as he asked, I lifted a little of my hips then felt him insert a wedge-like pillow, situating my bottom in a more pronounced
fashion and ripe for the taking.
“Relax,” he said as I felt the heavy thwack of his palm connecting with my smooth bottom, making me hiss from the pleasurable sting his unexpected smacking had brought me.
“How tense you are, Isobel,” he rasped out just as I felt his thumb inspect my exposed cunt. “Close your eyes and channel all of your energy to what my tongue will do to you.”
I did just that, closing my eyes exactly as he requested before I felt the hot, persistent tongue of his, licking and flicking my pussy. Then he let the wicked tip glide all the way up to the other puckered hole as he continued to display the same amount of enthusiasm until I released the tidal waves of my orgasm from his tenacious onslaught.
When I thought it couldn’t get any more intense, I felt him spread me wide open before I felt him and his fearsome entity trying to surge inside of me.
“Isobel—” he grated harshly, slipping inside of me in such an acute angle that I felt as if my body was literally convulsing with an influx of such pure, unmitigated pleasure in one wave after another. Maybe it was because he had strung me so high = my body was desperate to unleash all of its frustration. Whatever it was, I was gasping for air, beside myself. I couldn’t take another wave of it. It was too much, too fast, and too everything. I felt drained and exhausted, as though I was going to lose consciousness.
As I slowly recovered and came back to reality, I eventually noticed Hugo hadn’t orgasmed, and I instantly felt compelled to remedy the problem. Before I could move, he grabbed my hips, rolling on his back so I was on top of him. He then rotated his hips, causing the tip of his cock to stretch and stimulate the deepest part of my cunt.
“Now, I want you to fuck me—all of me. Take me as deep as you can go,” he briskly said in a commanding tone, suffusing me with new purpose.
With newfound energy, I steadily and slowly raised my ass until the tip of his bulbous dick was barely within me. The head of his cock divinely pressed against the entrance as I gently applied more pressure to let it slip deeper inside me, stretching my vaginal muscles as they welcomed its hard and smooth length, filling me once again like no man had ever done before.
Each and every time I felt his length sheath itself with my essence, it felt as if it was the first time, as if every experience was one of a kind and magical.
With the use of my hips, I unhurriedly gyrated, testing out my body’s acute reaction to his impressive size. My pacing was steadfast because I simply couldn’t take it had I gone too fast. I felt as though, since I was on top, I needed to be in control of it all, even my body’s reaction. Consequently, when Hugo’s hands took hold of my hips, I knew he was rather too impatient to see me carry on at this tempo. He was the rough, hard, and fast kind of man, and he needed to remedy the situation as soon as possible.
Just as I expected him to do, he immediately started to pound my pussy as if he was making a promise to it. It was raw and animalistic, leaving my mind and body in sublime shambles.
“Get on your knees and suck my cock. Swallow every last drop I’m giving you,” he grunted. I was ready to receive him, too … every single drop of him.
Slowly unlatching my body from him, I gradually got to the marbled floor. Then I saw him shift and stand before me, gripping and pumping his massive, veined cock that was about to explode in my mouth.
Kneeling before him, I looked up, gazing at him with absolute love and adoration. There was nothing more I wanted to do this very second than to please every fiber of him, to worship him like no woman had ever done before. Nothing mattered. The past, the future, none were existent in our present. Right now, this was all that mattered.
“Open that beautiful mouth, ma belle.”
Licking my lips, I opened my mouth, welcoming his harsh entry as he roughly fucked it, placing his hand on the back of my head as he went deeper, demanding, commanding.
He let out an anguished yelp the moment I felt him unleash his seed on my tongue, on the back of my throat, and I swallowed everything he granted me, loving every bit of it, of him.
He was heaving, chest puffing as if he had run a marathon as he looked down upon me licking my lips from the savory treat he had just bestowed on me. Something crossed his face before he pulled me into his arms and unexpectedly kissed me in the most passionate way—unbridled and explicit.
This was all I knew. This was all that mattered, nothing more.
“How long are we staying here?” I asked. I desperately needed to know when he would eventually leave me so I could prepare myself for the inevitable, painful parting. Each time, I swear it was becoming harder and harder to say goodbye.
“I have to leave first thing tomorrow morning. I hope that’s all right with you.”
I knew it wasn’t going to be a long time, but less than twenty-four hours? Hell, that wasn’t enough time for me. Then again, nothing ever was.
Barely nodding towards him, I let my eyes drift around my surroundings as I tried to ignore the sinking feeling that was all too familiar when being with him. The past few days were the kind of ugly I had wanted to bury in my past. Though that was an impossible feat, I could at least forget about it for the time being.
“Make me beautiful, mon chéri,” I huskily begged to be taken by him, by his warmth, by his strength, and the kind of magnetic power and beauty that he alone could produce. I wanted him to kiss me as if I was the only thing that mattered to him, as if he meant to keep me by his side forever.
Seeing him again after the tumultuous ordeal in Athens, I felt as if I was truly coming home. It was an odd sensation to feel towards someone who could suddenly remind me we could no longer be together again. At the same time, those little stolen moments we had made it even more special. It was unusual to have that kind of mindset, but I loved him, and I would do anything just to have him back temporarily.
It was a damning thing to be pulled back and forth with your emotions by your mind and heart both directing you into opposing directions. But at the end of the day, I knew I wouldn’t miss an opportunity spending another day in his arms. That was why I was here—to simply be with him, nothing more.
Our one day together was spent in the hotel room, just as expected. We devoured each other, from crucial kisses to rough and paced lovemaking. We did it all, and I remembered falling asleep thinking I would welcome whatever future brought with Hugo. As long as he was in the picture, I would fight for him. I would fight to be his one and only.
My mind was full of dreams throughout the night, and I woke to the reality that Hugo was gone, merely leaving a note next to my pillow.
You looked like a fallen angel sleeping, so I didn’t see the need to wake you. I shall be in touch.
-H
Still glued to his note and fluid handwriting, I let out a long, melancholy sigh when something caught my eye. Startled, I sat up straight, shocked at the sight of a bed filled with beautiful, scented blooms, consisting of small yellow buds with white petals.
Why is the scent so familiar? I thought happily as I took in another breath, closing my eyes as I inhaled its scent once more.
Chamomile, the name immediately came to mind.
Yes, it definitely was. Not that I wasn’t ungrateful, but of all the flowers out there, why this one? If it were a rose or any of the familiar ones that men gave to women that easily represented romance, then I would know what his intentions were or what he was trying to convey here, but I was at a loss with this one.
“The man simply did something special. Stop overanalyzing everything, Isobel,” I reprimanded myself for being too critical about his sweet gesture.
Whatever Hugo’s motive was, I knew it was meant to be another grand gesture. He wasn’t a man of words, but a man of action.
And the flowers were a monumental gesture.
Or so I led myself to believe.
Chapter 27
Isobel
“I’m head over heels, madly in love with the grand gestures, my love,” I breezily said the second I took his c
all, buzzing with the high of his sweetness and thoughtfulness.
Being in love—truly, madly in love—was a whole different kind of euphoria than the one I was familiar with when I had been with Damen.
My reaction evoked a dry laugh on the other end of the phone. “Wanting to see you in Paris isn’t such a grand thing. Had I stayed longer, it might’ve been.”
“That, too, but I meant about the flowers you showered the bed with. They smell lovely, by the way. It’s very…” I trailed off as I tried to figure what the best word was to describe it before I immediately started to say, “therapeutic. I think the scent itself made me sleep in for a couple more hours.”
“Flowers?” He sounded confused, a little rattled even. “What flowers?”
My eyes questioningly lingered on the bed, wondering why he was playing oblivious. “You know, the ones you left all over the bed.”
There was a long stretch of silence, killing my smile into a worried frown as the stretch of iciness went on.
“Isobel.” The curtness of his tone signified something wasn’t right.
Squashing the little doubt and the veiled fear that sprouted from hearing his tone, I took a short breath before whispering, “Yes?”
“I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to do it as instructed.” He delivered his words in a military-like manner—austere and critical. “I need you to leave Paris as soon as you can. Go home and live your life the way we ought to have done before we got back together again. Date, meet other guys, do the things that you normally do. Don’t ever think about me. I don’t want you to ever think about me. Go out with Damen, Julien, or whomever you can so you can forget about me. You need to forget me, Isobel. This is my last wish. I don’t want to see or hear from you ever again. Are we clear on this?”
Clear? Not by a long margin.