Je T'aime

by Ursula Whistler

  “I want you.”

  She raised her hand to her hip. “You want me.”

  “I do.”

  A breeze blew her black hair in front of her face, and she brushed it away. As she did, she leaned toward him, placing her hand upon his shoulder. With her lips next to his ear, she whispered in French, “Will you go to bed with me tonight?”

  Her words, mixed with the heat of her breath upon his skin, made his mouth water and spurred him to action, though moving would be difficult with his growing hard-on. “We walk the rampart. It is close.” He pushed his hands together to show the distance was short for them to walk.

  “It is close?”

  “Ah, yes.”

  She took his hand and let him lead her along the wall to the small guesthouse owned by a former military friend. In five minutes, they arrived without their belongings, but Étienne didn’t care. He’d get whatever she wanted later. For the entire day, he’d been hers to command, and he liked it. At each moment, she’d shown him something else about herself. He’d not read her answers to his questions, and the only one he cared about was whether she had a boyfriend. Before he knocked on the door, he asked, “Boyfriend?”

  She pointed to herself. “Me? Or you?” She shook her head. “I no have.”

  Her tense and grammar were off, but her answer was right on. She didn’t have a boyfriend, and of that he was glad. He knocked as he gripped her hand.

  His friend Armand, dressed in a black shirt with the short haircut of a military man, opened the door. “Ah, Étienne! Welcome! Come in!”

  “She does not speak French.” He knew Armand spoke English.

  “Then I will speak to you, mademoiselle.” Armand bowed to Genevieve. “Welcome. Come in. Étienne has said you are an art student.”

  She answered, but it appeared she didn’t truly study exactly art, but it must be something like that with all of her drawing. She added something else, and Armand’s eyebrows rose in a knowing look that he shared between all of them. Had she been so bold as to expressly say they only wanted to have sex in the room?

  Armand turned to him and winked. In French, he said, “Share dinner and wine with me later tonight. I shall cook late and keep dinner warm while you two enjoy the room.” He took a key off a hook and handed it to Genevieve. “On the right.”

  “Thank you, my friend.”

  “Ah, one moment.” Armand put a hand on Étienne’s arm. He dashed into a room off to the side of the main entrance. When he returned, he slipped a crinkly package into Étienne’s pocket. In quiet French, he added, “You will need those with such a bold, beautiful woman.”

  Étienne ran his fingers over the packages in his pocket and felt the telltale, raised rings of condoms. “Thank you very much.” He’d not planned on going this far with Genevieve and hadn’t brought any.

  “Let’s go.” Genevieve tugged on his hand. She led him up the stairs and unlocked the door to the right. As soon as she closed the door behind them, she dropped her bag and her coat on the floor. Wordlessly, but with a look of pure desire in her eyes, she closed the distance between them.

  He took her hand and led her to the bed, which was piled high with decorative pillows. She began tossing them off the bed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the string of condom packages to place them on the bedside table. As he watched her rid the bed of every fancy pillow, he took off his coat and sweater, leaving the T-shirt he wore beneath the other layers.

  When the last pillow hit the floor, she turned to face him. With one finger, she beckoned him. He answered the call eagerly, his cock pressed against his jeans. He pulled her into a kiss. She dipped her hands between them to cup his erection. His breath caught, and he moaned as her fingers danced lightly along its length. Pulses of ecstasy pulled at his belly with each delectable touch from her.

  He had no idea how to tell her to stop or he would come too soon. For the time he’d been in- country on assignment, he’d had no sex and didn’t think he could hold back his desire.

  Reluctantly, he moved her hands and covered it by lifting her sweater over her head. The paleness of her skin called to him. He kissed her shoulder, pushing off her bra strap. Her hands found his head. With a little pressure, she guided him lower to the swell of her breast. He smiled as she reached behind her to unhook her bra, letting her heavy globes fall free from the silky fabric. His breath quickened.

  He held her breasts in his hands and dipped his mouth to suck a deep pink nipple. She breathed a “yes” and leaned back on the bed. Her smooth skin prickled at his touch. He couldn’t get enough of her and pressed his face against her abdomen as he lowered to his knees. He ran his fingers along the top of her skirt as he rained kisses beneath her breasts.

  When he found the zipper at her hip, he pulled it, needing to have her naked before him. Her skirt fell to the ground, revealing a pair of lacy pink panties. As he began to slowly pull them from her hips, she gave his hands a slight shove. He stepped away from her puzzled as to why she stopped him.

  She leaned over, unzipped her boots, kicked them off her feet, and tugged off the tall socks, too. With no words, she stepped out of the pink undies and stood before him completely naked. His cock strained against the bounds of his zipper. He reached for her and cupped her bare ass, cradling her round globes. He bent to kiss her, needing to feel her lips against his again but wanting so much more.

  As their lips met, her hands brought new delights. Delicate fingers danced along his chest, twined in his chest hair, and circled his nipples. He grinned as she pushed his shirt to his shoulders. He helped her pull it over his head.

  She mumbled something in English that he didn’t understand, but he understood what her eyes and hands were saying. She took hold of his belt and made quick work of undoing that and his pants. She shoved them to the ground along with his underwear in one fast motion.

  As she leaned in for a kiss, one of her hands wrapped around his full cock. Her tongue tangled with his as she teased the sensitive tip of his cock with her fingers. He gasped as she cupped his balls with her other hand.

  Desire to have her completely took over. He picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around him. She grabbed his shoulders with her hands before holding the back of his head. She dove in with a kiss, hard and probing, echoing his need for more than touching. He placed her in the middle of the bed and climbed on top of her.

  “Oui.” She grabbed his cock and held the tip at the entrance of her hot, wet center.

  He moaned and rolled onto his hip, grabbing for the condoms. He wasted no time sliding one on his erection.

  She pushed him onto his back and straddled him. With a slow, deliberate motion, she pushed her hips back and let his sheathed cock slip inside her. The tightness of her pussy closed around him, bringing him close to the edge.

  He held her hips with his hands, keeping her from moving until the massive ecstasy came back under his control. He needed to last for her.

  As he found his control, he rocked her hips in tiny motions. She spread her hands across his shoulders as her back arched. Her breasts bobbled in front of him, begging for him to touch them, suck them, or bury his head against those beautiful globes with puckered nipples. With one hand still on her ass and the other on her back, he guided her breast closer to his mouth. She helped him by reaching her arm around his head.

  “Ah, yes,” she breathed as he pulled a nipple into his mouth. Her hips pumped faster. He fought a gasp as ripples of pleasure threatened to make him come too soon. He let loose of her nipple and buried his head between her bobbing globes. His hands slowed the thrust of her hips again.

  “No, no.” She protested.

  “Yes. One moment. One moment,” he begged in French, hoping she would understand. His skin prickled with the fire of his desire for her. He was too close to coming, and he didn’t want to before she had an orgasm. With great mental effort, he stilled her hips with his hands. Slowly, he lifted her off his cock and rolled her onto her back. “You are too
hot.”

  He kept her from talking with a kiss and letting one hand palm her breast. He kept his attentions on her, lowering his mouth to taste her neck. The salt of her skin enticed him to go lower, pulling a nipple into his mouth as his hand pressed between her swollen pussy lips.

  She opened her legs to him as he kissed and nipped his way down her torso. His fingers drew circles on her clit and dipped inside her hot center, spreading her juices. Her moans filled the room. When his tongue swirled over her clit, her fingers twined into his hair. She urged him on, pressing with her fingers on his head, and he complied. His tongue twirled, his lips sucked, and he reveled in her sounds of pleasure.

  Never had he wanted to bring a woman to orgasm so much. He ached to hear her call out in the throes of passion. His cock grew fuller with each moan. He licked at her clit faster, and she cried out. Her hips pressed upward as he continued his ministrations. She cried out again and grabbed his head with both her hands. He lifted at her command as she panted out, “Fuck me, now.”

  He knew enough English to understand that command. With no delay, he crawled up her and thrust his throbbing cock inside her wet pussy. Ecstasy spread up his cock and threw heat through his abdomen. He lost himself in the softness of her skin and the feel of her hands spread across his ass, urging him to thrust harder and faster. Waves of pleasure built inside him with each pulse.

  She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him in deeper, and he lost all control. His balls seemed to grow, stretched to their limit, and then he could not hold back the flood of ecstasy any longer. His breath shuddered as his delight exploded from him, stealing all sense of time and space. His mind went blank as he thrust one last time, letting the shocks of pleasure spread across his body.

  He lowered his head to touch Genevieve’s forehead as the waves subsided. “Magnifique. Magnifique.”

  “Oui,” she breathed into his ear. “Oui.”

  Chapter Five

  The world seemed brighter despite the pale winter light this glorious morning. She had seen Avignon, been inspired, and hooked up with a gorgeous, caring man many times in less than twenty-four hours. All the colors of this cheery house glowed, including the tufted pillows they had tossed on the floor in their zeal for each other.

  Life couldn’t be sweeter, Genevieve decided. The world, and everyone in it, was fabulous, amazing, and couldn’t get any better. Of course, she knew she only felt this way because of the orgasms she had with Étienne, but she didn’t care. For the moment, she’d enjoy every shining detail of her post-coital happiness.

  “You are beautiful.” His voice caressed her as she pulled on her skirt. He still lay naked on the bed with his arms stretched above his head.

  “Thank you. Clothes.”

  “Why?”

  “Armand.” She pointed to the door.

  Étienne stretched again, bringing her focus away from getting dressed to spend time with his friend. The lean, tautness of his muscles stretched over his large frame addled her brain. All she wanted was for him to touch her and fuck her and then do it all over again. They shouldn’t spend all their time in this room, though. They had a host downstairs, waiting for them.

  In his deep, sexy voice, he said something about Armand understanding, but she couldn’t comprehend the rest. He wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her toward him.

  She braced her hands on his chest. “What did you say?”

  Instead of answering her, he put one hand on her ass and brought her face to his. A wicked smile flashed across his face as he sucked her lower lip into his mouth. His fingers bunched her skirt in his palm. “Will you go to bed with me?”

  His fingers found her bare flesh, and she could only answer one way. “Yes. Oh my God, yes.”

  In a flash, he had her bra off, and she pressed a nipple to his lips. When he pulled it into his mouth, she gasped. The small motion of his tongue swirling about her puckered bud brought wetness between her legs. She reached to unzip her skirt, letting it fall to the ground.

  He switched to her other nipple, and she thought she’d come just from his mouth upon her breasts. Not wanting to waste any time on foreplay, she placed his hand upon her swollen pussy lips. Using the words in English she knew he understood, she uttered, “Fuck me, now.”

  He pulled away from her nipple with a smack and stood while his hand rubbed along her clit. “Oui, mademoiselle.”

  He turned them both so that her legs pressed against the side of the bed. She began to lower herself to the mattress, but he stopped her. With his hands on her waist, he had her face the bed.

  She licked her lips. The night before, she’d ridden him. He’d ridden her. They’d fucked face to face on their sides in the wee hours of the night, but he’d not asked to take her from behind. Cum slipped from her wet pussy as she leaned forward with her hands supporting her. She wanted this, to feel his hips upon her ass as he thrust inside her. Oh, how she wanted this.

  His hands rubbed along her back to her shoulders and back toward her ass and over her hips leaving prickles of delight and desire. He spread her legs with firm fingers. As she watched from over her shoulder, she bit her lip as he slid a condom over his full cock. He put the tip of his cock at the opening of her pussy. She was sure he could feel her throb with need as he drew circles before pushing slowly inside of her.

  Her fingers gripped the covers as he withdrew all the way before slowly guiding his cock inside her again. He kept at this achingly slow rhythm. Her body craved more, something harder and more urgent, yet this careful attention had her panting in anticipation of his next thrust forward. She needed to ask for harder, but she couldn’t remember the words he’d taught her the night before. Uttering the only French that came to mind, she begged, “S’il vous plait, Étienne.”

  He bent over her, causing his slow thrusts to come to a standstill. She whined as he mumbled something she didn’t understand. Using the only language they had in common, she pushed with her hands upon the bed so her hips pushed his backward. She did it again, hoping he’d understand.

  He stood, pulling his cock halfway out of her pussy. She thrust backward, thinking no. He met her thrust with one of his own, harder, insistent.

  “Yes. My God. Yes.”

  He understood her body language and increased the pace of his thrusts. He held her hips with his hands and pulsed into her. Delicious slapping noises against her backside filled the room. She braced herself for his thrusts, now harder and bringing her tugs of pleasure from her pussy to her nipples that brushed against the covers of the bed.

  One of his hands reached around the front of her and pressed upon her swollen clit. As he thrust harder and faster, his fingers vibrated on her sensitive bud. She gasped as the delight built inside her. She was so close to coming that she could barely breathe. Her head bent forward onto the covers as she met his thrusts with ones of her own. His fingers pressed harder, and it was all she needed for the delight to crash over her.

  “Yes. Yes. Yes,” was all she could say as he kept playing with her clit and thrusting from behind. She couldn’t think. She didn’t want to. She wanted him. Étienne. Only him, forever and ever, fucking like this or any way he would let her fuck him.

  His fingers didn’t stop circling her clit, and she came again. Renewed sparks of pleasure ignited from her pussy up her belly to her nipples. She arched her back at the sparks flew up her spine. Étienne thrust forward one more time and his cries of pleasure joined hers.

  He pulled out of her, lifted her onto the bed, and curled around her. His skin warmed hers as he pulled her back into his chest. He kissed the back of her head and said in slow English, “This I like to do with you. I like very much. Very much.”

  She answered in French, “Me, too.” She nestled her hips against his. She could get used to this.

  ****

  A shower had cleared Genevieve’s mind somewhat. The post-coital glow remained in part of her brain, but the section devoted to feeling guilty about abandoning their host
after just meeting him was in full gear. Hadn’t they promised to spend time with him last night? Not that she minded the marathon session of sex that ended this morning.

  Yet, she wished she could sneak out the back door instead of facing Étienne’s friend. If she could only summon up some of the nonchalance of the sexy man beside her, she’d be able to make it through breakfast. It wouldn’t even be an early breakfast. The clock showed ten in the morning. They were now squarely in brunch territory.

  She tugged on Étienne’s sleeve. “Aren’t you embarrassed?”

  “Embarrassed?” His head tilt meant he didn’t know that word yet.

  “Ashamed.”

  “Shame?” His head shook. “No.” With that, he grabbed her hand, leading her firmly down the stairs to where the clang of cooking implements on pans and the smell of sausage emanated.

  “Bon jour.” The two men greeted each other simultaneously.

  Armand set the spatula he held on the counter and grabbed her by the shoulders, planting a kiss on each cheek. “Bon jour,” he switched to English, “and welcome again. I am making crêpes, but I have no fresh fruit, only preserves. I do, however, have fresh sausage you will love. If you eat that. I do not know.”

  Through her dry mouth, she uttered, “I do, thank you.”

  “Étienne will get you coffee, but you sit. I want to hear about you even if you won’t be around long.” Armand turned halfway back to his cooking, rolling the sausage in the pan and tending a crêpe on a large appliance with what looked like a spreader arm.

  “Um…” She wasn’t sure how to start, especially after he’d said she wouldn’t be around long. What had Étienne told Armand when making the arrangements for this trip? She began with the basics. “My name is Genevieve.”