along each hair, caressing me with the essence of need.
Tonight, I would see my Frenchman. I could not wait!
***
I opened the door and there he was. Alec Dubois, my Frenchie. Before I could say hello, he grabbed me around the waist, pulled me into his chest, and lifted me off my feet. His lips were on mine and my legs wrapped around his trim waist. He turned, slammed the door shut then pressed me into it, deepening the kiss. The hardest part of him rubbed against the very space I wanted him most. I moaned, opening my mouth further. He took the invitation and swept his tongue inside to swirl against my own.
Until that moment, I’d forgotten how much I missed kissing Alec. When he kissed, he did it with everything he had to give…passion, desire, and grace. So much grace and beauty I could hardly breathe. He ripped his mouth away and set his forehead against mine.
“ Ma Jolie , I have missed your love,” he whispered against my lips. Tears prickled against my eyes, and I caught his gaze. His eyes were golden yellow set with brown flecks that seemed to glow in this light.
I nipped his lips and nuzzled into his neck. “I’ve missed you, too, Alec. I had no idea how much until you were standing in front of me.” He curled his fingers into the nape of my neck and his thumbs swept across my chin and lips.
His eyes seemed to catalogue every facet of my face the way only an artist who’s extremely focused on details could. “You have been sad, chérie . Why?”
I shook my head, not wanting to get into it. “Later. For now, are you hungry, can I get you anything?”
Alec pressed his length firmly into my center. Beads of excitement roared from the middle out and through my limbs. I tightened my legs, bringing him closer. His eyes flashed with an intensity I’d missed. It was the look of a man who is desperate, Desperate to have his woman. “I have only the hunger to taste your sweet sex, ma jolie .” And there was my filthy Frenchman.
Without further ado, he led me to my suite and kicked the door shut. He placed a knee to the bed and then folded over, letting me down as if I was as precious as one of his paintings.
“Undress for me,” Alec said then stood. “I want to watch you expose your light.”
The way he spoke, the fire in his gaze, sent me spinning with lust. With absolutely no finesse, I lifted up to my knees and pulled the tiny dress I wore over my head. I wore nothing underneath, remembering his preference for little clothing and the lack of barriers.
“Vous êtes devenue plus belle.” Alec spoke in French and the words slid along the surface of my skin as if he’d touched me, light as a feather but just as tantalizing. Even with my French rusty and lacking experience, I knew what he said. He told me I’d gotten more beautiful.
I shook my head. “Only through your eyes.”
He cupped my cheek. “You do not see yourself the same way the world sees you.”
I laughed. “ You are not the world, Frenchie.”
Alec tapped my lip and I sucked his thumb into my mouth and swirled my tongue around the digit. His eyes darkened, the light no longer showing the golden tone of his amber gaze.
“Oh chérie , have you forgotten what you learned during our time?” he whispered, stripping off his t-shirt, exposing the square pecs I loved to sink my teeth into and the washboard abs that my fingers itched to trace.
“I haven’t forgotten how much I love your body.” I retorted, fisting my hands at my sides, my breasts heaving, becoming heavy and needy. Both his hands came out and lifted the twin globes, squeezing and molding them as if he was reacquainting himself with my body. A cry spilled from my lips when he swiped both thumbs across the turgid peaks. He inhaled deeply when close to my neck as if breathing in my scent.
Closing my eyes, I moaned and tipped my head back in offering. I could feel the edges of my hair trailing along the exposed skin of my bum. “I love your touch.”
A wet
Tonight, I would see my Frenchman. I could not wait!
***
I opened the door and there he was. Alec Dubois, my Frenchie. Before I could say hello, he grabbed me around the waist, pulled me into his chest, and lifted me off my feet. His lips were on mine and my legs wrapped around his trim waist. He turned, slammed the door shut then pressed me into it, deepening the kiss. The hardest part of him rubbed against the very space I wanted him most. I moaned, opening my mouth further. He took the invitation and swept his tongue inside to swirl against my own.
Until that moment, I’d forgotten how much I missed kissing Alec. When he kissed, he did it with everything he had to give…passion, desire, and grace. So much grace and beauty I could hardly breathe. He ripped his mouth away and set his forehead against mine.
“ Ma Jolie , I have missed your love,” he whispered against my lips. Tears prickled against my eyes, and I caught his gaze. His eyes were golden yellow set with brown flecks that seemed to glow in this light.
I nipped his lips and nuzzled into his neck. “I’ve missed you, too, Alec. I had no idea how much until you were standing in front of me.” He curled his fingers into the nape of my neck and his thumbs swept across my chin and lips.
His eyes seemed to catalogue every facet of my face the way only an artist who’s extremely focused on details could. “You have been sad, chérie . Why?”
I shook my head, not wanting to get into it. “Later. For now, are you hungry, can I get you anything?”
Alec pressed his length firmly into my center. Beads of excitement roared from the middle out and through my limbs. I tightened my legs, bringing him closer. His eyes flashed with an intensity I’d missed. It was the look of a man who is desperate, Desperate to have his woman. “I have only the hunger to taste your sweet sex, ma jolie .” And there was my filthy Frenchman.
Without further ado, he led me to my suite and kicked the door shut. He placed a knee to the bed and then folded over, letting me down as if I was as precious as one of his paintings.
“Undress for me,” Alec said then stood. “I want to watch you expose your light.”
The way he spoke, the fire in his gaze, sent me spinning with lust. With absolutely no finesse, I lifted up to my knees and pulled the tiny dress I wore over my head. I wore nothing underneath, remembering his preference for little clothing and the lack of barriers.
“Vous êtes devenue plus belle.” Alec spoke in French and the words slid along the surface of my skin as if he’d touched me, light as a feather but just as tantalizing. Even with my French rusty and lacking experience, I knew what he said. He told me I’d gotten more beautiful.
I shook my head. “Only through your eyes.”
He cupped my cheek. “You do not see yourself the same way the world sees you.”
I laughed. “ You are not the world, Frenchie.”
Alec tapped my lip and I sucked his thumb into my mouth and swirled my tongue around the digit. His eyes darkened, the light no longer showing the golden tone of his amber gaze.
“Oh chérie , have you forgotten what you learned during our time?” he whispered, stripping off his t-shirt, exposing the square pecs I loved to sink my teeth into and the washboard abs that my fingers itched to trace.
“I haven’t forgotten how much I love your body.” I retorted, fisting my hands at my sides, my breasts heaving, becoming heavy and needy. Both his hands came out and lifted the twin globes, squeezing and molding them as if he was reacquainting himself with my body. A cry spilled from my lips when he swiped both thumbs across the turgid peaks. He inhaled deeply when close to my neck as if breathing in my scent.
Closing my eyes, I moaned and tipped my head back in offering. I could feel the edges of my hair trailing along the exposed skin of my bum. “I love your touch.”
A wet
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