She lowered to her knees before him, trailing soapy hands down his thighs, and he was already hard and strong. She closed her eyes and nuzzled her cheek against him, making a sound low in her throat, and he echoed it with his own moan. She finished quickly, not wanting to be in the shower anymore, and stood, brushing up against him as she rose.
“You’re done. I’m clean enough. Bed.”
There were towels on a warming rail, and they dried each other. But she was impatient. She took his hand and led him back into the main room.
“Lie down for me?” she asked.
Antoine gave her a searching look, but complied, pulling away the comforter, then stretching out on the cream sheet in his glorious nakedness. Usually, in their lovemaking, he took a dominant role; it was who he was, the natural predator. But tonight, she wanted to do things her way. To show him that hewasn’t lonely anymore, that this excuse for a house didn’t suit him anymore. There was so much she wanted to do.
She crawled onto the bed beside him, and now she wasn’t in a rush, her movements slow and deliberate. The heat in his gaze was exactly what she wanted to see. She started with a kiss, leaning over him, letting her breasts brush lightly over his chest. His hand came up to cup her neck, his other trailing lightly down her flank to her hip, gentle touches that suited her mood. They kissed slowly, teasing with lips and tongue, as if exploring each other for the first time.
She pulled back enough to see his face. “I love you.”
“You have my heart too,” he murmured. “My very soul is yours.”
She let the words linger between them, savoring them, then the corners of her lips curled playfully. “Keep still, now.”
It was her turn for control.
In answer, he let his hands fall to the bed either side of him, an amused smile flirting with his lips, eyes watching her. They flickered from blue to lilac with the depths of his feelings.
She trailed kisses across his chest, finding one nipple with her mouth, flicking her tongue over it. His muscles flexed, and he let out a slow exhale. His cock lay hard against his stomach, but she carefully avoided it, licking over his stomach, skin soft and warm, with the ridges of his abs firm beneath. She shifted lower for a better angle, crawling between his legs. He spread them for her, and she ran her hands up his thighs.
He was hers to enjoy, and she intended to take her time. She leaned in, kissing up one leg, letting him feel her breath play over him as she gazed at his hardness, his balls heavy below.
“It is my turn to taste you.”
“Ma chérie,” Antoine whispered, voice catching, then he gasped as she licked between his legs, feeling his balls moving beneath her tongue. His hands jerked as though he wanted to reach for her, but they remained where they were, as if held by her will.
For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she had compelled him, that the strength of their bond had grown such that heobeyed because she’d told him. But he’d voiced no objection, and the heat in his eyes belied any possible reluctance. Besides, it wasn’t the time for those thoughts; something to worry about in the future.
Cally trailed her tongue up his length, and his cock jerked beneath her mouth. His breath hitched, fists clenching, and she smiled.
Teasing was fun, anticipation made everything greater, but now she wanted more. She slipped one hand around the base of his cock and took him into her mouth, closing her eyes as she traced the silky head with her tongue, tasting the sweet-saltiness of his precum. His hips shifted beneath her, like he wanted to thrust forward and had denied himself. He gave another shuddering exhale, and she opened her eyes to find him watching her, intense and hungry, yet with a hint of reverence that squeezed her heart. She drew back, gave the tip of him a kiss, smiled up at him, and then took him in again, deeper than before.
He was so long and thick that she wasn’t sure she could take all of him, but she wanted to try.
Cally pushed down, licking as he glided over her tongue, quickly filling her mouth. And still there was more of him to hungrily swallow; her lips met her hand, encircling the base of his shaft. She bobbed on him, enjoying the feel of him between her lips, the noises he made as she sucked softly on his crown. The feel of his cock penetrating her mouth, ever more deeply as he grew slick with his growing arousal and her saliva. Her hand worked the base of his shaft, rubbing and twisting, lubricated with her own spit.
Antoine groaned, and when she looked up, his eyes had shifted to full red in his passion. She loved it when he fought his control, loved it even more when he lost. It was all the encouragement she needed, and she drew slowly up, then pushed down once more. The head of him pressed against the back of her throat, and he gasped again. But this time she kept going, opening her throat, taking him within.
She couldn’t hold it for long, but she let her throat clench around him once, twice, before she had to withdraw. She drew back up him as she took in air, eyes watering, but she wasn’tdone. She sank down onto him again, and it was easier the second time. He slipped into her throat once more, and moaned his pleasure. A torrent of breathy French that she couldn’t make out, let alone understand, but it sounded deliciously like a curse as his control frayed at the edges.
“You will undo me,ma chérie.”
Cally pulled off him long enough to murmur, “That’s the idea,” then took him into her mouth again.
It became a rhythm; slide down, push, withdraw, breathe, lick. And each time his hips twitched, and his gasps grew more ragged. Until at last, his back arched, muscles tensing, and she knew he was about to come. She pulled back until just the head of him was inside her mouth, working his shaft with her hand as she swirled her tongue over him, and he erupted with a gasp. Thick, salty, and heady, spurting forcefully across her tongue, and she swallowed quickly as his hips pushed up, another gush filling her mouth with his essence. It claimed all of her senses: the taste and smell of him, the sounds of his soft gasps, the feel of his cock in her mouth, the way his body writhed in his pleasure.
Until at last, his head fell back against the pillow, and he slumped, relaxing.
She licked again, mindful that he would be sensitive, but seeking out the last drops of his seed.
Antoine sighed in contentment, his fists unclenching in the sheet. She’d missed the moment his hands had tightened, but there was always next time. His eyes had drifted back to their usual blue, which was rewarding in its own way.
“Ô doux ciel…” he breathed.
She slid off him with a faint pop. “What was that?”
