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"Oh, Philippe," I moan, grabbing his hands on my waist for balance and rotating my hips in circular motions. My breasts dance as I move faster and faster.
"Fuck," he moans, now removing his hands from my waist to find my face, cradling it. Piercing blue eyes staring deep into mine. In this moment, I feel seen, truly seen by him – not just as a woman or an object of desire, but as a person with desires of her own.
"Tatiana," he breathes, the reverence in his voice making my heart race."Sei la mia"– you're mine.
"I am," I reply softly, unable to tear my gaze from his. The intensity between us is real, a magnetic force that threatens to consume us both. As we hold each other's gaze, it feels as if we are exchanging secrets, sharing pieces of ourselves that have never been revealed before.
"Tell me," he whispers as if sensing my unspoken thoughts. "What do you want?"
"For you to take me wholly, without thought," I admit, my voice trembling with emotion. "I want you, Philippe."
Before I can react, he flips me over onto all fours, his fingers threading through my hair, gripping it tightly. The power shift is dizzying and intoxicating. He enters me from behind, his movements deliberate and passionate.
Every thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through my body, our connection intensifying with every heated touch and torrid whisper.
"I feel you," he growls, fucking me relentlessly, his voice rough with desire. He smacks my ass, and I scream out loud with the pain that feels so good. "So close, Tatiana. So damn close."
"Don't stop," I plead, my body quivering on the edge of euphoria. As our passion reaches its peak, I know that this man, this dangerous, enigmatic leader of a dark, fantastical world, has captured a part of me that can never be reclaimed. "Fuck me harder, please."
"Mm-hmm," he moans, pounding me. Then, to my surprise, he leans over and places a finger on my clit while still fucking me.
"Oh Philippe," I mutter, a trembling spreading from my legs. I arch my back, and he slams into me. Over and over again while circling my clit. The trembling reaches every inch of my body. I close my eyes and revel in the sensation of the climax now building.
He smacks my ass again, and I can no longer hold back. I feel my pussy clench around his hard, hard cock as sweat beads down my forehead, and in that moment, I burst at the seams, my soul escaping. I cum, and he knows I do.
With one final, powerful thrust, Philippe's body shudders as he pulls out and climaxes on my back. I can feel the warmth of him, our connection made physically manifest in this moment. His ragged breaths mirror my own, evidence of the intensity we shared.
"Marvelous," he murmurs, his voice filled with wonder and admiration. Gently, he releases his grip on my hair, tenderly stroking the strands he'd held so tightly moments before. He takes some tissue and wipes me clean, guiding me to lie down on my back now.
"You're beautiful," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder as he lays down beside me. I collapse onto the bed, spent and utterly sated, unable to suppress a contented sigh.
"Vieni qui" – come here – he invites, opening his arms for me. I gladly move into his embrace, resting my head on his chest and listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The intimacy is overwhelming yet comforting.
"Philippe," I start, hesitating as I search for the words to express the depth of what I'm feeling. "Grazie" – thank you – is all I can manage, but it doesn't seem enough. I catch my breath and continue. "You made me feel alive."
He nods, knowing more words aren't needed.
As we lie there, entwined in each other's arms and basking in the afterglow of our passion, I can't help but wonder how this will influence our future, my future. Was this just an adventure for him, expected from his protégé, or will this lead to more?
What should I do? Before my dreams run too wild, I must heed Martin’s warning and rein in any chance of getting hurt. I was the one who started this, letting my dress fall to the ground. Now, I need him to make the next move. I attempt to sit up. "I should go," I whisper.
"Don't think about tomorrow," Philippe advises, seeming to read my thoughts. "Stay the night," he continues, urging me to focus on the present, on the warmth and safety of his embrace.
"Alright," I concede, allowing myself to be swept away by the tide of his affection, even if only for one-night. At least he's asked me to stay, and that's comforting. As sleep begins to claim us both, I hold onto Philippe, grateful for the solace we've found in each other's arms.
Chapter 7
Philippe
I blink my eyes open to the sight of Tatiana's peaceful face, mere inches from mine. Her breaths are slow and even, like a gentle breeze brushing against my cheek, and an overwhelming sense of contentment washes over me as I watch her sleep.
This is what home could feel like. Memories come to me, of how life became after Mother was assassinated. That’s when my home became a house. Father tried his best, but with Mother gone, the house lacked a woman's heart.
It's now, that I don't feel so lonely on waking, that I realize just how lonely I've been all these years.
My heart aches at the thought that she'll be leaving soon. To me this is more than just a one night stand—I need to see her again.
As if drawn to her by an invisible force, my fingers find their way to her bare back, gently tracing circles on her soft skin. The intimacy of the moment makes me shiver, my fingertips sending ripples of warmth through her body and into my own. Time seems to slow down as we lie here, our worlds melding together like watercolors on a canvas.
