Page 177 of The Stranger

“That means…”

She brings her mouth to my ear. “That I am going to rock your world.”

“You’re like a tornado,” I whisper in rapid fire French.

“You like that?”

“I like you.” My hands find her hips, my words husky with want. With need. I’m not holding her to stop her. That moment is long gone.

“How much do you like me?” She quickly loosens the buttons of my shirt, her fingers suddenly five hot points of contact searing my skin. Leaning in, she licks my neck, the sensation echoing through to my balls.

“There’s a scale?” With the low rumble, I tip my head back, giving her greater access. Giving me greater pleasure.

She makes a noise of assent as she moves and her clever mouth travels down my torso. A kiss and flick of tongue.

“Fuck.” The quick press of her teeth against my ribs sends a tremor though me.

She hums a low sound as she loosens my belt. She pops the button then magics the rest. Her eyes are dark and wanton as she pulls me out.

“Hello, lover.” A long rolling r and her eyes flutter closed as she puts a kiss to the silken head. Her pink lips and pale slender fingers look obscene against something so rigid and ruddy.

I long to take another photograph.

“Primrose.” I make a promise of her name as I gather her hair where it falls around her like a veil. Our eyes latch as opens her lips and I watch the slide of my cock into her heavenly mouth.

Down, down, down.

“Mon dieu.”

The eye contact she gives—I almost get off on it as much as I do from her mouth. She begins to work me. Enthusiastically. Messily. Her hand wrapped firmly at the base, stroking where her lips can’t reach. Though she’s valiant in her efforts.

“C’est bein, ma belle.” I suck a breath in through my teeth as my skin begins to tingle—the roots of my hair too. “So good.”

All big pleading eyes, she groans her agreement and, holy hell, the sound vibrates through to my spine.

“Oui…” My hand tightens as I fight the urge to buck under her. To fuck her mouth so hard, I’ll cut off her air supply.

As though hearing my thoughts, she changes tempo. Deeper, wetter, a flick of her tongue to the underside. The hollowing of her cheeks as she lifts and I am losing my fucking mind.

“Suce-moi,” I moan, twisting under her as though I’m in pain. “Suce-moi.”

I can barely stand it—I want her so badly. Her mouth. Her tongue. I want to be inside her. On top of her. Pouring my load down her throat.

“Primevere.” I swallow a gasp, my throat parched, my soul commanded by the pull of her sweet mouth. “Tu vas…” I swallow hard again. “Tu vas me faire jouir.”

You’re gonna make me come.

As though she understands, her lashes lower forming dark moon shapes against her cheeks. Her lips tighten as her head begins to bob with such enthusiasm. My balls pull tight and, for one minute, I think I’m done. But in one last burst of grit, I grasp her elbow and pull her higher with a furious whisper of, “Get up here. I need to be inside you.”

Her mouth comes off my cock with a wet pop, and my eyes screw tight. I sound like I’ve been running as I watch her stands and slip out of her panties. Every part of me throbs as she climbs over my thighs. Every inch of me giving thanks as she sinks down.

Holy mother of God.

I put my hand to her nape, pull her face to mine, and kiss the fuck out of her then. Until she pulls away and her body surges above mine. She flexes her hips. Undulates. Tightens her walls in a hot, pulsing grip as she shows me just who is in charge.

I’m coming undone, leaking brain fluid, I’m sure, as I unravel and utter a stream of consciousness in French. I pour out my love in a language she doesn’t understand.

“You’ve touched every place inside me, Primevére. You’re in my head and my heart and beneath my very skin. I no longer know where I end and you begin. I should let you go. Fuck, I should be a better man, but every time I touch you, I want more. I want to keep you, beloved. Tonight. Tomorrow. For all the days between now and forever. I have no right to ask. But I can’t…”