Page 95 of Evie and Louis: The Story so Far

“Evie,” he said, pulling her closer to him, but for once, words failed him as desire rose.

He had wanted her too much for too long and she was here, in his arms. Her body was warm and soft beneath the fine fabric of her nightclothes, and it would be so easy, so deliciously easy, to take what he wanted.

“Evie,” he said again, but his voice was darker now, the voice of a man set on seduction.

Her breathing hitched, and she stiffened in his arms, aware of the change in him.

“Louis, you should go now, I…. My parents—”

He did not allow her to finish the sentence, stealing the words he had no wish to hear with a searing kiss. Her resistance melted away as if it had never existed and she slid a hand up his neck, into his hair, pressing her lush curves against him as fire blazed in his blood.

He swept her up into his arms, smothering her little exclamation of protest with his mouth as he carried her to the bed and laid her upon it. She gasped, eyes wide as he followed her down.

“Louis, we c—”

He kissed her, stopping her from denying him, reminding her how much she wanted him with a kiss that was slow and deep, and a moment later she was reaching for him, pulling him down to her. Triumph blazed through him. She was his. She wanted him too much to deny him.

Diable.

Louis ignored the hateful voice, concentrating on Evie, on the pleasure he could show her. He tugged at the ribbons holding her wrap closed and pushed the lacy creation aside. Beneath it her nightgown was simple white cotton, but so very fine. It clung to her body, the outline of her nipples just visible beneath the delicate weave of the cloth. Louis swallowed, knowing he had wanted no one, wanted nothing in his life before, like he wanted her. His heart thudded unevenly, as if he were an untried boy touching his girl for the first time. He reached out and cupped her breast, revelling in the soft weight as his thumb teased the nipple.

Unable to resist a moment longer, he bent his head and suckled her breast through the thin cotton, tugging the delicate flesh to a hard little peak. He made a low sound of satisfaction deep in his throat and worried the little bud with his teeth until she gave a moan that shot straight to his groin, making his cock throb with the need to be inside her.

“Je t’aime,” he whispered, kissing his way across the slope of her breast, up her slender neck, returning to nuzzle the delightful curve between her shoulder and leaving soft little kisses as his thumb and finger continued to toy with her breast beneath the damp fabric. “Dieu, I want you so much, mon amour. I want to love you, to kiss you everywhere. I want to take everything you have, to do things you never dreamed of. I want to show you just how wicked I can be, and you will only want more, I promise.”

She writhed beneath him, whimpering with desire, her eyes dark and hazy as she stared at him.

“Shall I touch you, ma petite?” he asked, holding her gaze.

Her skin was flushed, rosy with wanting him, like sun-kissed peaches on a lazy summer’s day, making his mouth water with the desire to taste her.

Evie swallowed, her mouth opening but no sound coming out. Louis lounged beside her, apparently at his ease, though he was all raw need and exposed nerves. He caressed her breasts, cupping first one generous mound and then the other, squeezing gently. She was a lush landscape of lavish contours, and he was aching to explore her. Evie gasped, arching into his touch. Louis laughed softly, delighted by her response to him as his hand coasted lower, over the soft curve of her belly.

“Shall I touch you here, Evie?” he asked, his fingers trailing back and forth over the place where a shadowy dark triangle lay beneath the thin fabric. He wanted to tug the fabric out of the way, to see everything hidden from his gaze but he held back, aware he was pushing her already.

“It’s… It’s wrong,” she managed, so breathless she could hardly speak.

“Who says so?” he asked her, holding her gaze. “Does it feel wrong, little love?”

He let his hand stray lower, the lightest caress between her legs as his fingers trailed over the fine fabric, barely touching her. Her breathing quickened, her green eyes darkening. Louis kept up the delicate torment until her thighs parted, allowing him more. He hid his smile, knowing she was succumbing to desire.

“Do you like that, Evie? Tell me how it feels?”

“So good,” she managed, laughing softly. “Sinful!”

He grinned at her then, hardly about to disagree.

“Then I must be doing it right,” he replied and reached for the hem of her nightgown, sliding his hand beneath. His breath caught as his palm glided over her satiny thigh to the soft thatch of curls. Louis closed his eyes, groaned, and bent his head to her breast again, rubbing his mouth over her nipple as his fingers sifted through the warm triangle of hair to find her already hot and wet.

“Louis,” she sobbed, lifting her hips towards his touch, wanting more. “Oh, please…”

“Easy. I’ll give you what you want. Mon Dieu, but you are lovely, si belle, si douce, mon coeur.”

She made a startled sound as he eased into the damp folds, stroking carefully as he sought the little nub that would bring her pleasure. Evie sighed and widened her thighs further, encouraging him to give her more. Louis watched, his thumb caressing her clitoris as he eased a finger inside her. She moaned and rolled her hips, her intimate muscles working greedily to take him deeper, and Louis admitted himself startled to discover her so responsive, all traces of shyness vanished in the heat of her need for him.

“More,” she demanded, her voice agonised, pleading. “Oh, yes. Don’t stop.”

Louis could not look away, enraptured by her as she writhed beneath his touch. His own body throbbed with arousal as he built her pleasure, astonished by her innocent passion, her fierce desire demanding enough to equal his own. He had been prepared for shyness, for hesitation, to have to soothe her and encourage, but she was all fire and heat and need and he felt as though he stood before an inferno, wanting nothing more than to burn with her.