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The distance leaves me cold. It breaks the feverish spell. It shocks me back to the moment, dousing my desire with shame. I flatten by back against the glass, trying to put distance between us, but Maxime scoops me up in his arms and carries me to the bed. He lowers me carefully to the mattress, leaving my legs dangling over the edge. When he crouches down, I push up on my elbows with anxious expectation, but he only reaches for my foot. He takes off first the one, then the other shoe, kissing the bridge of each foot. Then he straightens again and grips the elastic of my thigh-high stocking. I watch as he rolls it down and discards it before doing the same with the other. It’s when he reaches for the panties that I stiffen.
“Shh.” He leans over me, kisses my lips, and pushes me back with a palm on my chest until my arms give out and my back hits the mattress. “Just relax.”
I don’t. I pinch my eyes shut as he pulls the underwear over my hips and feet. I feel him move over me and jerk when he places a kiss at the top of my sex.
“Look at me, Zoe.”
Reluctantly, I open my eyes.
“That’s better,” he says. “I want to see your expression when I make you come.”
When he reaches for the bra, I automatically put a hand over his to still him.
He doesn’t force it. Instead, he says, “Take off your bra for me. I want to see all of you.”
I’m already naked from the waist down, but I hesitate. Somehow, I’m reluctant to remove this last barrier. He waits patiently. He’s not going anywhere until I comply. Refusing is only pulling this out longer.
My hands shake slightly as I unclip the front clasp.
“Take it off completely,” he says.
I push the straps from my shoulders, pulling one arm free at a time.
He does a slow evaluation of my body. “You’re beautiful, my little flower. Gorgeous, just like I knew you’d be.”
He pushes to his feet and unbuckles his belt. He lets it hangs loose as he removes his shoes and socks, and then the pants. He watches me intently as he pushes his briefs over his hips, so much so that I can’t look at him and have to turn my head to the side.
“Eyes on me, Zoe.”
The stern command is in stark contrast to the gentleness of earlier. Slowly, I face him again as he opens two buttons of his shirt from the bottom up. The shirttails don’t hide his hardness. His cock is thick and long, jutting out proudly. He’s huge. The sight is more erotic than I expected, making my lower body heat. I’ve never seen a man so close to naked or a stiff cock peeking out from the folds of his shirt front.
I try to scoot back when he steps between my legs, but he grabs my thighs and spreads them wide before going down on his knees.
“What are you doing?” I cry out.
His lips quirk in one corner. “What does it look like?”
He lowers his head, watching me watching him as he presses a kiss right in the center of my legs. My whole body jerks.
He gives me a knowing smile. “No one has ever gone down on you?”
I want to say yes, to tell a lie, but the sweep of his tongue over my folds steals my words. It’s hot. It’s delicious. Grabbing my knees, he keeps my legs open and licks from the bottom to the top of my slit. My thighs quake. The swipe of his tongue over my clit makes my back arch.
“So responsive,” he says, sounding pleased.
When he sucks lightly on the bundle of nerves, my body bows. The pleasure is exquisite. Heat unfurls and coils in my lower body, spinning a web of need. It climbs, transporting me to a place I desperately need to go, but then he slows down. I fist my hands in the sheets in frustration. Devouring me, he keeps his gaze on my face, gauging my reaction. He uses his thumbs to spread me, then nips and licks until the tightly coiled tension is about to snap, but just before it does, he slows down again.
I moan in frustration. “Maxime.”
His tone is lazy, teasing almost. “What is it, ma belle?”
“Please.” Make it stop.
“Do you want to come?”
No, not like this but being kept on the edge of something unknown is torture.
“You have to say it,” he says.
Even in this, he forces my consent. Yet just like with our warped arrangement, he doesn’t give me a choice. Not really. Not when he’s tormenting me with his erotic administrations.
The word escapes on a defeated breath from my lips. “Yes.”
He immediately complies, focusing all his wicked attention on my clit. He drags his tongue in circles and bites down gently before flicking the tip of his tongue over the flesh that feels engorged and needy.
