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I stared at her hungrily as we walked the hallway to the suite, as she ran to the window to look out at our view of the Eiffel Tower, her youth and joy shining out of her face like a beam when she finally turned to look at me.

“Thank you,” she said simply.

I pulled her against me at last and bent my head to kiss the wonder off of her lips. She melted against me, as she always did. Gone were the days of the snarling, angry kitty after I had teased her too much at dinner. Gone were the days of watching her close her bedroom door, leaving me alone.

Leaving me out in the cold.

I led her to the couch and pulled her down with me. The bed was too far, I decided. I needed her now.

Her blouse was opened in short order, so I could lavish my attention on her breasts. She whimpered in need as I slid my hand up her thigh, grazing her white lace panties. I loved watching her get dressed, I realized. As much as it was a shame to cover up all that beauty, I got to know what she had on underneath for the rest of the day.

I liked that. I liked it a lot.

“Are you sore, sweetheart?” I asked, gently pushing aside her panties so I could explore her folds. She was wet already. She shook her head, letting it fall backwards and exposing her throat. It was the ultimate sign of submission. Her submission, so hard won, and exactly what I craved.

I wanted to be her lord and master.

I wanted to be her world.

I wanted to be her everything.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Theresa

“Oh!” I gasped. I was spread on the settee, being pleasured by an indescribably beautiful man, while the city of Paris came to life outside our window.

“Michael,” I breathed as he pushed his tongue inside me. He had been worried that I might be too sore, and had vowed not to make love to me until that night.

The truth was, I was a little bit sore. But I hadn’t told him that. I had lied, because I wanted him so badly.

But somehow he had known.

“Come for me, little girl,” he growled from between my legs. It was like his words wove a magic spell over me. The moment he ordered me to orgasm, I felt the wave rise inside me and crest, spilling pleasure through my entire body. I cried out as he kept it going, using his tongue inside me and his thumb strumming rapidly against my clit. It was too much. It was too much pleasure for my body to bear.

Only when I screamed did he slow down. When I opened my eyes, he was smiling. But he still had that heated look in his eyes.

“Let’s shower and go see the city,” he said, placing a soft kiss on my inner thigh.

“But…”

“But what? You don’t want to see Paris?”

“You didn’t get to…”

He laughed harshly.

“If you took care of me every time I got excited around you, you would never do anything else.”

“Oh,” I said, blushing hotly. “We can…”

“Later. Your sweet little pussy needs a break from my attentions.”

I blushed even more.

“But… Can I… do that for you?”

He stared at me, then closed his eyes.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Honey, I don’t think I would survive it.” He kissed my forehead and helped me to stand up. “Now, let me show you the town. I want to show you off.”

“Okay,” I said shyly, letting him lead me to the bathroom and shower me. He took his time, washing me thoroughly, making me wiggle with desire for him.

“Behave yourself, young lady,” he admonished me, bopping me on the nose. I loved this playful side of him. It was all new to me. I had thought him to be entirely serious, cruel even, But he was kind to me. Protective. He cherished me.

That was something I had never experienced before. It was addictive. I told myself not to get used to it.

But I was going to enjoy every moment of it while I could.

I let him pick my clothes out, too. As usual, he had impeccable taste. A pair of wide legged gray pants with a silk blouse tucked into them, braided gold jewelry that I had yet to see before, and caramel toned belt and medium heigh heels that would be comfortable to walk in. I blinked at him in wonder.

“How did you…” I trailed off when he gave me that secretive knowing smile that basically said ‘you ain’t seen nothing yet’.

Of course, Michael was so well spoken. He would never actually say ‘aint’.

He handed me a matching caramel leather bag and kissed me. He took my arm and we followed our body guards through the hotel.

We were off to see Paris.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Michael

“Pick one,” I said with a smile. “Hell, pick two.”


Tags: Joanna Blake Erotic