by Autumn Grey
He ran the tip of his nose along my cheek, dipping his head to nip the underside of my jaw. His hand snuck under my blouse, his rough palm caressing my skin in circles. I sucked in a breath at the contact as unrestrained need settled between my legs.
"I am Remington fucking St. Germain. No amount of words can sum me up."
I turned my head to look him in the eye, laughter fighting for release in my throat. Then I saw the amusement and hunger fighting for dominance in his eyes, and I burst out laughing.
"So, you find that funny?"
Before I could respond, his mouth was on mine, stealing my breath and my laughter. He kissed me as though this were the first time he had kissed me. He kissed me as if he had been waiting his entire life for this chance. He kissed me with a passion so deep that when he finally dragged his mouth from mine, we were panting and smiling.
"I could spend my life listening to your laughter, Selene."
"And I could kiss you an entire lifetime and never be sated. You are an excellent kisser, St. Germain."
"It's because of this mouth of yours. So bewitching and perfect."
My chest warmed all over the place at his words.
Spending the afternoon with Remington and the six boys was something I was going to remember for a long time. He played the part of a horse, neighing and galloping. I was a cross between a queen and a witch. Remington let the kids poke him with plastic swords as he pretended to be a dragon and then turned around and tickled the children in turns.
Right after dinner, the parents stopped by to retrieve their children. Adrien yawned, rubbing his eyes.
"Papa, can she read me a story tonight?" Adrien asked, pointing a finger at me.
"Her name, Adrien," Remington told him, a soft reprimand in his voice, as we finished rinsing and putting the dirty dishes into the dishwasher.
"Selene!" Adrien shrieked as I dropped the dishcloth, rounded the corner, and dashed after him. He giggled as I caught up with him.
Laughter died in my throat when I turned to face Remington. He was leaning on the kitchen island, staring at us. His hands flexed at his sides and different emotions flashed across his face as if he was fighting himself over something. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision. He nodded at us.
"Are you sure?" I asked him. I didn't want to barge into their lives and disrupt their system.
He mouthed “yes” at me, as Adrien yawned again.
Right after brushing his teeth and changing into his pajamas, Adrien dove under the covers and settled himself before looking at me expectantly.
"Which book would you like me to read for you, tiger?"
He pulled out a picture book on top of the nightstand drawer.
This… this feels wonderful. I inhaled deeply and began to read. Getting back into reading in French was difficult at first, but after a few passages into the story, it became easier.
Twenty minutes later, I left Adrien's room, smiling.
When I walked back into the living room, Remington was sprawled on the couch, shirtless, with a glass of wine in his hand. I paused long enough to admire this beautiful man so lost in thought he hardly heard me enter the room. My eyes moved back to study his physique. Ripped stomach, muscled arms but not overly so. Dark hair dusted his chest and merged into a narrow line trailing down his stomach to disappear under his jeans where the top button was popped open.
Holy shit.
As if he could read my thoughts, he titled his head around. His mouth widened into a crooked smile, his eyes moved down to my legs and right back up to rest on my chest. My nipples hardened as the memory of what happened in chambre trois.
How hard I came under his ministrations.
"Ready?" That single word filled the room, increasing the tension between us.
I cleared my throat and crossed my hands over my chest before heading in to stand in front of him. He stood up from the chair, bringing the glass of wine to my lips and tipped it slightly. I drank deeply, heat curling between my legs.
What was I supposed to be ready for, sex? Or talk? Since our dinner, my mind had been on a loop, imagining how he'd feel naked and on top of me. Filling me. And the fear I'd felt when the car rammed into ours on the way to Remington's house.
"I want to draw you."
"AND I want to talk."
He tensed and rubbed a hand down his face, before placing the glass on the table and starting to pace. "Let's forget this for now. Let me paint you."
I scowled at him. "Why?"
He halted mid-step, turned, and stalked to where I stood. "Because I don't want this person coming between us. This afternoon went so well. I want to enjoy this feeling a little longer. Gilles is handling this problem. Come with me, please. We can talk after this, I promise you." I could feel the urgency in his voice. He held out his hand to me, his palm facing up. "Let's enjoy each other's company a little longer."
"You know I'm holding you to that promise, right?"
He nodded. I placed my hand on his and his shoulders relaxed visibly. We had the entire night to talk anyway.
Remington led me past the kitchen and down a hallway with white walls. Paintings decorated both sides of the wall.
"What kind of art do you do?" I asked, darting a glance over my shoulder to Remington behind me and caught him staring at my ass. "You have a thing about my ass, don't you?"
"Hmm. I have a thing about every little part of your body." His hand was suddenly trailing down my back. He spread his fingers and squeezed my butt gently. "My art is realistic."
"Well, you have the license to own my ass tonight for the painting."
I was flipped around without warning and pressed against a wall. He caught my wrists in both his hands and leaned in. "Just for tonight?"
"Yes. And by the way, you're distracting me. We were supposed to talk about what happened earlier today, St. Germain."
"I know." He pressed his forehead to mine, and shut his eyes. "I just wanted to end this night on a lighter note. We can do that, right? Talk about the other stuff later?"
"Just answer me this first. Does it have anything to do with me?"
His eyes opened slowly and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, staring at me through those long, spiky lashes. "I promised always to tell you the truth, so I will. Yes. And no."
I exhaled, my body slumping forward. "What the hell does that mean? Do you know who this person is?"
He shook his head.
"I'm hardly anyone important or famous. What would they want from me?" I paused, remembering something. "The letter. You and Andrew were reading a letter at Saint Bernadette. Was that… mine?"
He blew out a breath. "No." I stared into his eyes for a few moments. He was telling me the truth. What was in that letter?
"Let's not think about this right now, all right? We had a great day, let's not spoil it." He slipped his hand down my arm and linked our fingers. "Come with me, ma belle."
That endearment spread warmth through my body as he tugged me toward a room, flipping the lights on before we walked in. He dropped my hand and strode to some cupboards on the right. I turned, taking in my surroundings. This room was completely different from any other room I'd seen in this house. Terracotta walls with one side splattered in a range of colors: blue, green, red. A stool was positioned near a chaise lounge at the far end of the room. An easel stood on the opposite side of the room with a large collection of brushes, paint, and something looking like charcoal on the table behind the easel.
"You're wearing too much for our first session, Selene."
He appeared in front of me and lifted a hand to rest on the top button of my blouse. He looked up at me, a question in his eyes. When I nodded, he unbuttoned each slowly, letting the blouse fall to my feet. His hand drifted lower to rest at the band of my jeans and this time, didn't hesitate.
Seconds later, I was naked save for my white lace bra and panties. His eyes moved slowly down my body, lingering on my breasts. He swallowed hard, flicking a gaze up to m
y face. His eyes were dilated and dark, a look of hunger I'd never witnessed before on any man's face but his. I glanced down the soft trail of hair on his stomach, and this time, I was the one fighting for air as I saw the thick bulge in his jeans.
Wow, just wow!
When I looked up again, his gaze was stuck on my stomach, staring at the tattoo peeking from behind my panties. I shifted on my feet, feeling extremely naked and vulnerable. A devastating grin lifted the corners of his eyes, and suddenly, I felt bold.
"Another thing we have in common. We love art," he said, looking very smug.
If only he knew! My tattoo wasn't for love of the art, but a way to hide a painful memory.
"We do?" I said to cover the pain twisting in my chest. "What other things do we have in common?"
"We make each other laugh and our sexual chemistry is off the charts."
He was right about that.
Feeling more confident, I slid my hands to the bra clasp on my back and stopped. He nodded, clearly reading my hesitation. He wanted me completely naked. I tossed it on the floor, and then hooked my fingers on the lace band around my hips. He placed one hand on mine, stopping me.
"Let me." And with that, he dropped to his knees, taking the soft material with him down my legs, placing tiny kisses on my hip and toes as he reached my feet. He returned his focus to the tattoo, now fully exposed to his eyes.
He pressed his lips on my navel, tracing his tongue along the edges of the tattoo then the middle. Panting, I reached down and tangled my fingers in his hair, tugging gently. As soon as his tongue touched the scar, I shivered and shut my eyes tightly. I didn't want him to see how that single touch affected me.
His mouth was pain and pleasure, my death and resurrection. I was a goner.
Pulling away from me, he straightened to his feet; he took my hand and led me to the vintage velvet, red chaise lounge. I sat down, and then looked up at him with uncertainty.
"Lie down." The carefree Remington had disappeared. Before me, stood the Remington who had driven me wild during our dinner. Controlled and in his element.
"How flexible are you at pushing your boundaries, Selene?"
I frowned. "Boundaries?"
He brushed his knuckles down the side of my face, a gentle expression in his eyes. "Have you ever done anything unconventional?"
I didn't have any idea what he was talking about; if he was talking about sex, well, James and I never strayed out of the ordinary. Missionary position or his taking me from behind.
"If I do something you don't like, let me know, all right?"
I nodded and watched him stride toward a set of built-in cupboards to the right, anticipation and lust warring inside me. Also fear. My mind kept drifting back to today's incident and the conversation with Remington before we came in here. Dropping my head back on the soft surface, I stared at the square tiles on the ceiling, those thoughts running rampant inside my head.
"Selene?"
I jerked my head to the side to face Remington holding a long, red, silky piece of material in his hands.
"Where did you go?"
I shook my head, releasing my lip from between my teeth.
"You think too much and right now, I don't want you getting lost inside your head. I want you here with me. Experience this with me, all right?"
I blew out a breath. "I'm not sure today is a good day to draw me. I'm too distracted."
"Well, I'll just have to take care of that right now."
The muscles on his shoulders tensed as he once again dropped to his knees and gripped my hips.
"Spread your legs, Selene."
"What?"
One eyebrow shot up in challenge. "I want to make sure the only things on your mind right now are you, me, and this room."
His eyes darkened even further, his chest rising and falling in quick breaths. He placed his hands on my hips, running his palm along my inner thighs and on my stomach. I loved the fact my full thighs and not-so-flat stomach aroused such lust in him.
"Jesus, you are so very beautiful, spread here before me. I'm dying to fuck you right now, Selene. I'm certain if I take you, I might not stop until we are exhausted. Even then, I would want to live inside you. So for now, I'll settle for tongue fucking you and make damn sure you'll never forget it. Spread your legs, ma belle."
As if hypnotized by the dark eyes full of desire so profound they had me shivering, I let my legs fall open. His eyes moved between my legs and a groan rumbled in his chest.
"Vous etês belle," he murmured, lowering his headful of dark, wavy hair between my legs and pressed his lips on my inner thighs. Even though I was expecting his lips on my skin, I started at their softness, the pure intimacy of that single act alone.
Every thought melted away and my body coiled tightly in expectation as his warm breath caressed my skin. His lips pressed on my pussy before languidly kissing and licking until I was squirming on the chaise. Then his fingers were there, spreading me and doing the same until his tongue hit a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves. My back arched as I moaned. He grunted in obvious satisfaction and wrapped his mouth around my clit, sucking, alternating between gentle and fast. He slid a finger inside me and continued working me with his tongue. I couldn't take it anymore.
"Remington, I… I'm coming!"
"Fuck, Selene, I love how you taste." His hands cupped my butt, lifting me to his mouth as he continued his assault. He grunted in approval, the sound vibrating thorough my clit.
"Oh God!" The release hit me so hard I couldn't catch my breath. I felt like I was riding a never-ending wave of pleasure.
When I came to my senses, Remington lay at my side with his elbow propped on the chaise and his head in his hand. He leaned in and kissed me. Tasting myself on his tongue, I groaned.
"Now, this is the look I was going for." He caressed my jaw with his knuckles. "Next time, you will be coming around my cock, ma belle."
He kissed me on the lips before sliding from the chaise lounge, and seconds later, repositioned me the way he wanted. My fingers itched to touch him and I wiggled on the lounge, feeling as if I were on fire. When I couldn't take it anymore, I pulled my hand from above my head. My fingers snagged the belt loops of his jeans, yanking him forward. I was hungry for him. I wanted his hard body on mine, his hot skin branding mine.
Caught off-guard, he stumbled forward. His hands shot out, bracing on either side of my head.
"Let me take care of you." I slid my hand down to the huge bulge in his jeans. He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes as if in pain. "Come on, Remington, just a few minutes."
"Bloody hell, Selene. If you keep doing that, I might not stop myself from fucking you until we pass out." He pressed his mouth to mine, sucked the bottom lip, and nipped it gently. Then he dropped his lower body to mine and rolled his hips, sending heat into my core. I'd just had an orgasm, but I could feel another building.
"That's the point."
He groaned. "Jesus." He kissed me hard, before pulling back, adjusting his crotch, and brushing a finger along my inner thigh. "First, let me draw you, and then I will show you how to touch me. Rough, soft, everything." The way he said “everything,” it sounded like it should be right up there with the seven deadly sins. And darn it, I was in the mood to commit some sin.
"It's all your fault," I said, pouting.
One dark eyebrow shot up, amusement dancing in his eyes. "My fault?"
"Yes. You're irresistible, and you make me want you and I haven't stopped thinking about the kiss and how it will be when we finally… fuck."
"I love it when you say that word. Fuck."
He grabbed the silky material he'd been holding before, tied one end around my ankles, and slipped it between my thighs so it was covering the area between my legs. He brought the sash around my waist once, draped it around my breast, and finished by tying it around my wrists. I was stretched out, the material wrapped in a way that displayed teasing glimpses of my skin.
He stood bac
k to examine his handiwork, grunted in contentment, kissed my forehead, and strode away.
I’d walked down the runaway nearly naked, posed in front of a camera with a wrap around my body and nothing underneath. I’d done so many things that made me feel completely bare.
But never like this. I felt stripped bare. Was I comfortable lying there, watching Remington study me with a look so indescribable I wanted to hide? Hell, I wasn’t sure about that. I knew I was beautiful. I’d worked hard to get back to where I was before I married James. However, somehow, Remington made me feel more sensual, especially when his eyes seemed to stare where the rose tattoo peeked out.
“Stop squirming, Selene.”
That voice. Christ. A quiet simmering fire laced the warning and I stopped moving. I shifted my gaze from his bare feet to his muscled denim-clad thighs and up to his face. He narrowed his eyes in concentration, all business, very stern.
Moments later, he strolled away from me. Within seconds, dramatic classical music poured into the open space from hidden speakers on the ceiling. I craned my head back in search of Remington. He was already lifting the easel with ease, walking toward me.
"Classical music?"
He nodded. "Sergei Prokofiev. Do you like it?" He waved one hand toward the ceiling to indicate the song.
With the music filling the room, we fell into a tension-filled silence. The combination of Remington's heated gaze and the cadence of the music had my stomach in knots. This was the most erotic thing I'd ever done and I was lucky this talented man, who seemed to do everything perfectly, was doing this with me.
I TOOK deep breaths, wrestling the control that was merely seconds from snapping.
Wrong move.
I could still taste her on my tongue. Her scent was still embedded in my senses and my body was coiled so tight it was physical pain to even think beyond the woman lying on the lounge, naked and breathtakingly beautiful. Up until now, I had successfully managed to leash my lust, the urge to rip her clothes off, bury my cock deep inside her and fuck her until she screamed my name. Until nothing dominated her mind. Just me and how I made her feel.