I want to mark her.
Claim her.
Let the entire world know she belongs to me.
Amelia begins to stir, and the second I hear the commotion of her headphones drop to the floor and the seatbelt unbuckle, Clare jumps off me. Her hair is messy, her face flushed, and lips swollen.
My cock twitches angrily from being denied any further pleasure.
I clear my throat and stand, brushing past Clare while I help Amelia find another movie to watch on her tablet.
“What were you doing?” Amelia asks, glancing at Clare. “Your hair looks funny.”
Clare’s eyes widen, and she bolts into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door.
Leave it to the kid to ruin the moment. I thought Clare looked sexy as hell. My cock certainly agreed.
I guide Amelia back to her seat and grab her a snack and a juice box before putting another princess movie on.
Clare spends far too much time hiding in the bathroom, fixing her hair, and avoiding me for her eReader the rest of the flight.
She’s embarrassed and probably worried that Amelia saw something. She didn’t. But I let it slide.
We land in Paris, and it takes a bit of time to deal with customs before we are chauffeured to the hotel.
The hotel is older and needs a few upgrades. It’s one of the reasons the owner is considering selling us the establishment. It’s not far from the Eiffel Tower, and I’ve been assured that the view from the penthouse will be spectacular.
While I want to tour the standard rooms, I’m being put up in the penthouse suite. I’d expect nothing less, and if the owner hadn’t offered to do so freely, I’d have paid handsomely for the experience.
The penthouse consists of two bedrooms, a spacious living room, and a kitchen. Amelia scurries inside excitedly, running in to find her bedroom.
I explore the suite, pleased with the accommodations and the cleanliness, and while most of the hotel itself is old and needs repair, this suite is top notch. It’s already been upgraded. Was that done for my benefit?
The paint is fresh. The linens look pristine and brand new. Even the bath towels are upgraded from standard white to a thick gray. The tags are still on.
Clare is quiet, taking the sight in while I peruse the bedrooms, bringing my luggage with me and dropping it in the room with a single king bed.
“Umm, Levi.” Clare’s voice catches in her throat.
Across the hallway is a second bedroom, and I step in, expecting to find two queen beds. Nope. There’s a single king bed again.
“I can’t share a bed with Amelia,” she says.
Amelia climbs onto the mattress and begins jumping excitedly. I don’t blame her. After the long flight, she’s bound to have pent-up energy.
She’s not the only one.
“I can call downstairs and request another room,” I say with a heavy sigh, and rub my jaw. How is she going to look after Amelia if she’s in a different room on a different floor? That won’t be ideal. “We can have a rollaway bed brought into Amelia’s room.”
“Right, that should work.”
I make a quick phone call and am assured they will bring in an additional bed. I can always have Amelia sleep on the rollaway, since it’s likely to be a twin.
Amelia squeals with delight while I pop into the girls’ room to see what’s going on.
My little monster keeps jumping sky-high on the mattress. “Little Miss, you’re going to break Clare’s bed,” I say, catching her midair.
“My bed,” Amelia proclaims proudly.