by Julie Adams
He pulls the cups down and pinches my hard nipples. Just when it starts to hurt he stops and his warm mouth is sucking on them. Soothing them, swirling his tongue around in a caress. Every part of me is so sensitive.
His lips trail down my clavicle to my stomach, his teeth grazing my skin. His fingers find my slit, trailing from bottom to top, dragging my wetness over my clit, he scissors his fingers back and forth over my bud. I moan and arch up into him. I need more.
He slides two digits into me and I shoot up off the bed. “Fuck me,” I breathe.
“Are you inviting me?”
“Yes, right now!” I growl, balling the sheets in my fists.
He chuckles and pushes my thighs wider. I hear the rustle of the condom opening and then he’s pressing at my opening. His head just inching inside.
I sigh and spur my heels into his ass trying to pull him in deeper. “So eager for me.” He slides forward a fraction. Even as soaked as I am he’s met with resistance. His cock is thick and throbbing.
Oh. God. I forgot just how good this feels, and now all I want is for him to do this all night.
He pulls out. I whimper. Then with a fast thrust he’s buried balls deep inside me. I suck in a breath, grasping at his back. He holds still letting me adjust to his girth. My walls already grasping at him.
“Does it feel good?” He whispers. I can only nod, every thought and function focused solely on my sex and the man inside me.
He glides out and back in, his thumb finding my clit and rubbing soft, slow circles. I grab onto his shoulders and bury my face into his neck stifling my moan. It's too much.
“No,” he pulls back from me and stares into my eyes. “I want to hear you when you come.” He drives into me again, hard, the sound of his thighs slapping against my ass reverberates in the room.
He dips his head and finds one of my nipples and sucks hard. The roughness combined with his gentle, steady thrusts has me tipping over the edge again. Clenching tightly around his cock.
He doesn’t let up as my orgasm rocks me. He only drives harder and faster inside of me. I moan loudly, throwing my head back. I clench my eyes closed so tightly I see lights.
Nathan chuckles. It’s so sexy, his chest rumbling against me. I open my eyes and can see the pure delight on his face. “Oui, mon chéri,” He slows his thrusts and slides slowly out of me and back in, I swear I can feel every ridge of him rubbing against my g-spot.
“One more?” He asks.
“Yes, yes,” I nod vigorously and he slowly picks up the pace. Just the right angle, hitting just the right spot.
“Your body is amazing, inside and out. I’ve never felt anything like you,” He whispers. “I love the way your pussy comes around my cock.” He grunts, pushing back into me.
I’ve never had anyone dirty talk to me the way he does. Confident, unabashed.
“I’m going to come,” I sigh.
“Don’t tease me, come for me, I want to feel you squeezing my dick.” My body tenses and I feel myself pulsating around him again. My head spinning with another orgasm. “Just like that,” he says.
He groans and I can feel him grow harder. Then the warmth of the condom filling with his release.
He hovers over me for a moment, his head dipping onto my shoulder as he laughs. “Incroyable,”
“What?” I ask between breaths.
“Incroyable,” he repeats rising above me and brushing the hair off of my face. “It means incredible.”
“Oui.” I say using what little French I know.
He collapses beside me and drapes his arm over my stomach. “Tomorrow, I’m going to take you to whatever breakfast place you wish, and then I want to see your poetry.”
“Yes, to the first. No, to the second.”
“You’ll show me someday, I’ll earn your trust.” I say nothing. It’s hard not to trust a man who broke down a door to rescue you, a man who tells you all the right things. A man who knows your body like an instrument. I’ve trusted far less adept men and regretted it.
“When you’re ready, Lily, and not a second sooner.” He kisses my shoulder and pulls me closer to him, dragging the covers up over us. “Bonne nuit.”
Ten
Nathan
A warm softness nestles closer to me, and I groan. Lily's perfect ass is pressing against me in all her naked glory. I open my eyes expecting her to be grinning seductively, but she's still asleep. Her long dark hair everywhere, across the pillow, her shoulders, face, even over my arm. I rub a lock between my fingers, thick and silky. I brush it off her shoulder and kiss her skin. My lips dance up her shoulder to the crook of her neck. My tongue skimming the column of her throat.
“Mmm,” she stirs rocking against me.
“Good morning,” I whisper into her ear.
“You've worn me out.” She groans even while settling more firmly against me.
“Then lay here and let me do the work. Then I'll feed you and bathe you and be your servant for the rest of the day.” My fingers stroke the globe of her ass.
She rolls to her back and lets her thighs fall open. “If you insist.”
I grin and pounce on her. Devouring her with my hands and mouth.
After making her come twice she disappears into the bathroom and I go to the kitchen. I had planned on taking her out, or at least ordering breakfast to be delivered but after last night I want to impress her. Put in the extra effort. I haven't fucked or slept that hard since… well ever. She pushes me to a whole other level.
I open the glass panel refrigerator door and pull out eggs, cheese and bacon. I'm by no means a chef but my mother made sure I could at least feed myself without hiring someone. She loved luxury but not excess, a chef wouldn't have made it across the threshold to our house. The only reason a housekeeper was employed was because the house was too big for her to keep up with.
I close my eyes on those memories, those happy ones cut too short. The calm years after the strife.
I focus on making the omelette. Putting the past away.
“Something smells wonderful,” I turn and Lily is standing there looking more beautiful than anything in France. Her hair is tossed over one shoulder, the curls still unruly from last night. And she's wearing my shirt. Not the stereotypical dress shirt from last night, but a sweatshirt I had tossed over the back of the chair yesterday, Blue Holiday Inc. is written on the front. It’s a leftover favor from some event or other.
Sacre bleu, it's like she's been marked as mine. And that thought makes me happier than it should. My heart falters, and I know now as I did last night that being with her is about so much more than sex or getting her out of my system. She's got a grip on me like a song you can't get out of your head.
“Can I help with anything?” She asks kneeling to pet Frankie as he sniffs her bare leg. Even he's in love with her. And by her coos the feeling's mutual. I grin when she squeals as he jumps up and licks her face, she’s giggling while pushing him away to pet from a safer distance.
“Hey, that's mine,” I playfully scold Frankie, who only stares at me and wags his tail. Lily looks at me surprised. “Be a good boy and I'll make you an omelette too.” The dog pauses, decides it's a good deal and lays in his bed patiently watching us.
“He's a cutie.” And by the look on her face, she’s just as in love with him.
“Don't inflate his ego, he's a diva as it is.” Lily laughs and shakes her head shooting Frankie a wink.
I point to the coffee machine, “Can you make the coffee?” I ask.
Lily nods, walking to the machine and running her fingers over its shiny knobs. “Going to be honest with you, I have no idea how this works, it's got more buttons than a NASA control board.”
“It's an expensive pain in the ass, with more functions than I need.” I explain. “Watch the bacon and I'll try.”
She slides past me to the stove, her body brushing against mine and making me grow semi-hard.
“Coffe
e? Latte? Espresso?”
“Latte, please.”
I set the machine going and admire Lily standing at the stove. My eyes trailing up her legs to the hem of my shirt and I wonder if she's wearing anything underneath. Now I’m full on hard.
I go behind her and wrap an arm around her waist. She smells like soap, my usually masculine scent made feminine and mysterious on her skin. My hand skims her bare thigh and I move her hair to kiss the nape of her neck. “You look incredible right now,”
She tilts her head away as she laughs, “You're just saying that so I'll share this omelette.”
I spin her in my arms and stare into her chocolate eyes. “I could never be lying about how beautiful you are.”
She smiles and shakes her head. “What?” I ask.
“It's just Beth...” She trails off, blushing.
I raise a brow and slip my hand under the shirt cupping her ass. She’s completely bare. “Tell me,”
She closes her lips tight, goading me, trying to see just how far I'll go. My middle finger rubs against her sex just once and she gasps. “Tell me or I'll keep going,”
“Promise?” She asks, her tongue licking her lips reflexively.
“You're going to be the death of me, you keep wanting me and I keep wanting you, they're gonna find us dehydrated and naked, our bodies entangled.”
“There's worse ways to go.” Her hand snakes down my chest and abs resting at the top of my pants.
“I need to feed you first, you must be starving.” I kiss her cheek. “Will you get those cups and set them on the island?” I distract her and myself before we never come up for air.
She puts the drinks down and sits on a stool watching me plate the omelette and bacon. I put the food in front of her, “Your breakfast, mon chéri,”
“Thank you, it looks amazing. What about you?” She asks.
“I'm not hungry.”
She pulls a face. “If I must eat, so do you.” She cuts the omelette in half and scoots it to me. “This thing is huge, I can't finish it myself. Don't make me force feed you.”
I laugh trying to picture her tiny self making me do anything.
I grab a fork and sit beside her. I wrap an arm around her while taking a bite of the breakfast. “Now what is it Beth said?” I ask curious about what made her smile like that.
“Just that Frenchmen are unlike American men when it comes to flirting and… sex,”
“And do you take that to be a good thing?”
“Well, you're the only Frenchman I've been with and I'd say so. You're incorrigible and have unbelievable stamina, and say all the right things. It's a little disconcerting now that I say it all out loud.”
“I mean it all,” I say feeling her uncertainty about me and my intentions coming off her in waves.
“I have no doubt you're being sincere… but you hardly know me and I hardly know you…”
I take her hand in mine and look her in the eye. “We don't know each other well, but chemistry could give a damn less about that. I'm not telling anyone else the things I'm telling you, I don't need to woo women to get them in the sack, it's sad to say but when you have clout and money and the ability to make someone famous, they could care less about what sweet nothings I give them. I don't fuck around, Lily, I put all my cards on the table. I keep business and work separate, the women I sleep with know it's only fucking.” She makes a face and glances at her hands. “But not with you, I want to give you sweet words, take you on dates, have you spend the night with me, I really, genuinely like you and want to get to know you.”
A small smile plays at the corners of her lips. “Just so you know, I would have been okay with just sex last night. I'm glad you want more because so do I, and that's the last thing I came to Paris looking for.”
“I promise to make it an experience of a lifetime.”
“Just don't lie to me, Nathan, even if you think it'll hurt me, I can handle it. Trust me.” Her fingers are tracing the scar on her jaw and I know there's more of a story behind it. If some man put those scars there, I want to find him and kill him.
A part of me wants to tell her the truth about that night at the theater, the night I met her.
I say nothing. Like a coward.
Eleven
Lily
In the cab back to Beth's I can't stop smiling. I'm remembering it all from the night before and this morning. It had been sinfully delicious, I did things I never dreamed of doing with him. Purely intoxicated by lust and need.
I take a breath. Be careful, my subconscious warns.
When he laid it all out to me over breakfast I didn't feel like it was smooth talk. He didn't have that look in his eye like he had said this all a dozen times. It didn’t seem overly smooth.
But it's so hard to get past the lies of others. To trust myself after they shattered me. I was leery of every new person I met. The most devastating thing was I lost trust in myself.
That's what I'm doing in Paris, learning not to be afraid and to know myself again.
I’m paying the cab fare when the skin on my neck prickles, as if I'm being watched. I get it every now and again, not as often as when I first arrived. I've worked hard to be normal. Whatever normal is for me now.
I glance around, unable to shake the feeling. A few pedestrians walking by, a delivery van across the street, nothing out of the ordinary. No ghosts waiting to possess me.
I texted Beth last night and told her not to worry, I wouldn't be home.
She sent me a string of heart eye emojis. Followed by a string of explicitly arranged characters that meant various acts I wasn’t imaginative enough to decipher.
I brace myself when I unlock the apartment door, expecting Brent to be ready to scold me on the other side. It's like high school all over again, only instead of my mom it's my brother. And somehow that's even more embarrassing.
There's no one in the living room or kitchen.
“Hello?” I call out.
No reply. Nobody’s home. I could kiss Beth and her feminine understanding for getting my brother out of here. He would only be full of questions.
I go into my room, peel off my clothes from the night before, noticing even naked, my skin smells like Nathan. He’s like a fucking drug. More addictive than anyone I’ve been with before. More enigmatic. More charismatic. More gorgeous. He's just more.
I’m feeling inspired.
I grab my notebook and flip it open. My messy handwriting covers the pages. I start on a fresh page. The words come on their own. Nothing sappy, I'm not in the ode territory yet. This poem is pure erotic, something just for me to capture this moment and my feelings forever.
I may or may not have used the Eiffel Tower as a metaphor. I’m not proud of how cheesy it is, but it makes me happy.
About two hours later the front door to the apartment opens and Beth comes in. “Lily?” She calls and I can hear the excitement in her voice.
I meet her at the door to my room and she’s grinning. Perhaps more happy about me finally having sex than I am.
“Tell me everything!” She pulls a bottle of wine out of her bag and pushes it at me.
I seal my lips tightly against my grin. “I’ll get you drunk and pry it out of you. Brent’s out with friends at the pub down the street, watching some American ball game. So we have plenty of time.” She snatches the wine back from me and grabs me by the hand, dragging me into the kitchen.
She uncorks the wine expertly and pours it into fancy crystal wine glasses. “Did you find out that I was telling the truth? That Frenchmen really are great lovers?”
“Yes,” I finally spill, unable to keep it from her a moment longer. I need to tell someone about it, to make it feel real, and to perhaps sort it all out for myself. I need Beth to give me her approval and tell me I’m not being a fool. “Makes me wonder why you would ever marry an American.”
Beth smiles. “American men are a league all in their own, so explorative-�
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“Stop!” I raise my hand, “I don’t want to know anymore unless there’s a string of previous American men you’ve slept with and you’re telling me only about them,”
“There were a few. But none like your brother.” She winks.
I mimic barfing. “More than I’ll ever need or want to know.”
“Unless you want to hear more you’ll tell me about your rendezvous,” the glint in her eyes is daring me.
I sip my wine and play with the stem of the glass. “It was amazing, the kind of thing they write books about. It started at the concert, ended at his apartment, multiple times with multiple orgasms and he made me breakfast this morning. That’s the CliffsNotes version.”
“Damn, that sounds exciting and by your face that’s only the tip of the iceberg.”
“He says I’m the first woman he’s brought to his apartment. I met his dog, a cute little guy named Frankie.”
“Wouldn’t have taken him for a little dog kind of guy,”
“Me either,” I shrug.
“Give me the detailed, novel version,” Beth prods and I spill it all. Skimming over the sex sessions. No one but me and Nathan needs know the details about those.
Finally, I stop and look at her. And she looks at me and reads me like a book.
“What’s the matter?” Beth asks pouring more wine into my glass. I’ve spilled everything but she’s still going to get me drunk.
“Am I being an idiot?” I ask. “After everything that happened back home with him,” I can’t say his name anymore. But she knows who I’m talking about. “Am I the world’s biggest sap coming here and falling into whatever this is that Nathan and I have?”
“I’m French, sweetheart, there’s nothing better than being a fool for love. Or great sex.” I roll my eyes playfully. She sighs. “You’re not a fool, you’re human. Eventually you were going to let yourself fall in love right? Or were you planning on being a bird lady in a house full of chirping parakeets?”
That gets me to laugh.