He reached up to the flashlight, then aimed the light much further down—to a large, very imposing, tenting figure under the blankets.
“Beau!” I yelled, and smacked him on his warm, bare chest. “You scared me.”
A gruff, husky laugh burst out of him. I rolled my eyes and shoved the flashlight onto my nightstand. My poor heart was still beating like crazy, and it felt as though it would surely pop right out of my chest at any moment.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he said, rolling onto his elbow, hovering over me now. The blankets had slid to his waist, so his chest and forearms were on full display.
I clenched my thighs together as my eyes—then hands—wandered over his exposed body. His tanned skin was warm to the touch. No longer the fiery, red, hot skin from last night.
“How do you feel?” I asked, my eyes finding his.
He sighed and brushed my hair behind my ear. “You tell me. How do I feel, Geneviève?” he asked while leaning his pelvis into my leg.
My fingers trailed over his shoulders, then down to his pecs—watching as I moved them down his perfect, muscled body. “Soft, warm,” my hand slipped under the sheet, “hard,” I said, grazing my fingertips over his very ready manhood.
Beau let out a low moan while I continued to gently touch him. Then he leaned his head down to mine.
“Alive,” I croaked out in a hoarse voice, feeling the stinging burn of tears just behind my eyes.
His lips touched mine just as a few tears escaped down the sides of my face. “I love you, Geneviève. Tu me laisses te faire l’amour?”
Oh, gosh, hearing him ask to make love to me was one thing. Hearing him ask me that in French was something completely different. “Oui, Beauregard, s'il te plait.” I gave him permission to do just that.
Our tongues touched for the first time in forever, making me groan loudly at the feel of him as he completely devoured my mouth.
I gave into him.
I let him takeover and do exactly what he wanted.
Exactly how he wanted to do it.
His hands slid my top over my breasts, then his burning mouth was on my nipple, licking, sucking, pulling. I felt close to orgasming, just from that first touch of his mouth. “Oh, Beauregard,” I said in a breathy, whispered voice.
“Attends-moi,” he requested, asking me to wait for him. Somehow, he knew how close I already was. Beau pushed away, then his fingers were at the sides of my panties, yanking them down forcefully in one, quick movement.
Then he was there, right at my wet, aching core.
One second later, he was inside, filling me so completely, so perfectly, I nearly came from that. His mouth captured mine again, and he wouldn’t let go. He kept kissing me, endlessly, while his hips moved in sync with mine.
We held each other so tightly, like any extra space between us would somehow separate our bond.
It didn’t take long before he’d built that wonderful sensation between my legs. I couldn’t stop it from happening, even if I’d wanted to.
I felt myself contract almost violently around him.
Something told me he didn’t mind.
Like the way he hissed out a low, gasping, grunt before his entire body shuddered in my arms. I closed my eyes and saw explosions of color behind my eyelids. Beau’s mouth was still on mine, swallowing my blissful moans as I did the same for him.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he said, kissing me deeper, then his mouth fanned kisses around my cheeks and down my neck.
“I missed you, too.”