Charlee-Mae suddenly remembered something. "Oh..."
Philippe stiffened. Quoi maintenant? What now?
"I don't remember your name," Charlee-Mae blurted out.
"Ah."
Charlee-Mae giggled. "Hello 'Ah'."
It was the lamest of jokes, but for some reason, it still made his lips twitch.
"Oh my." Charlee-Mae just wanted to die. "You really are perfect, aren't you? You really thought that was funny?"
"Now that you put it that way," he said dryly, "no, I don't any longer."
His wife laughed, and the sound was enough to give him a hard-on.
Putain.
"So..." Charlee-Mae was feeling quite excited. "Your name?"
"Philippe."
Charlee-Mae's heart skipped a beat.
Philippe.
Just the act of testing his name out in her mind was enough to make her toes curl.
Philippe.
She loved it, and she loved how her husband pronounced his name even more. It was so...French, and she just could not resist trying to imitate it as she said—-
"Philippe." And Charlee-Mae's heart sang. It just felt so incredibly good to say her husband's name that she had to say it again. "Philippe."
Philippe had a hard time keeping his face expressionless. His wife's attempt at a French accent was the most horrible thing he had ever heard in his entire life, and while it should have been enough to completely turn him off...he actually found himself reacting the opposite.
Incroyable.
He found it adorable and funny, but more than that, he also found her painfully terrible accent hot as hell, and when his "wife" then added in her husky, honey-sweet voice—-
"Mon Philippe."
Philippe's jaw clenched. Her accent was still shitty, but it didn't seem to fucking matter. All he seemed capable of caring about was how his wife had just called him 'her Philippe', and instead of finding her display of possessiveness another major turn-off like he usually did, his body chose to surprise him yet again, with the way his cock was now fully erect and throbbing painfully behind his pants.
A frisson of sexual awareness snaked down Charlee-Mae's spine when she noticed the way her husband was now staring at her. The lust that glittered in his eyes was flagrant and fierce, its heat almost primal, but instead of scaring her off, his need for her sparked her own desire, and Charlee-Mae found herself slowly wetting her suddenly-dry lips.
Bordel de merde!
Seeing the pink tip of her tongue run over her rosebud lips had his entire body clenching in arousal. It was just fucking insane, how this "wife" of his had such an easy time destroying his self-control and reducing him into a mindless beast in heat.
"Philippe?"
The breathless tone of her honey-sweet voice almost had him groaning.
"Oui?"
Charlee-Mae almost whimpered. Oh God, that was simply 'yes' in French, but it was just so, so sexy she could die at the sound of it.
Jade-green eyes met amber ones, and just as Charlee-Mae lost track of her thoughts, so did Philippe forget every rule he was supposed to stick to about their mail-order marriage.
He had meant to keep their relationship platonic and uncomplicated, but with Charlee-Mae turning out to be every fucking thing he had ever fantasized in a woman—-
Charlee-Mae's heart started to race as Philippe slowly leaned close.
Lord, oh Lord.
His golden head bent down, and her breath caught.
"I want to kiss you."
Her head spun, and Charlee-Mae heard herself whisper, "Oui, s'il vous plaît." Yes, please.
Lust blazed in his loins, and even though her French accent was still frighteningly horrible, Philippe could not remember hearing anything so fucking hot. This woman turned him on in a way that no other woman had ever done, and even as the logical part of his mind warned him against muddying the waters of his marriage—-
It was too late.
Charlee-Mae's toes curled under the sheets as her husband's large, strong hands clasped her face. She trembled in his hold, and she could barely hear anything over the loud drumming of her heartbeat. His head continued to lower, and just as she tried to draw another breath to calm herself, it was then his mouth finally covered hers, and she ended up completely forgetting how to breathe.
Oh! My! Lord!
Her husband's mouth was simply divine. It was hot where it was supposed to be hot. Soft and firm where it was supposed to be soft and firm, and oh God, oh God, the way he was leisurely nibbling and nipping on her lips was fast making Charlee-Mae lose her mind.
She tried to keep her wits together, but when she felt his lips finally nudge hers open, the thought of what was going to happen next had her moaning as her lips parted—-
Aaaaah.
The kiss deepened as his tongue stroked inside the moist cavern of her mouth, and all she could do was moan anew as her arms wrapped around his neck. His kiss was slow and gentle at first, but as the strokes of his tongue gradually changed into swift, hard thrusts that made her feel like he was fucking her mouth, something inside of her seemed to unfurl—-