“You can leave now, of course, if you wish. But if you want to—” Alexandre breathes in, looking at me with eyes so full of yearning that it cuts me to the bone. “Sleep beside me tonight,ma petite souris,Noelle. Leave in the morning. One last night, in this bed with me.”
“If I leave—” My voice sounds shaky. “Can you care for yourself, without me? You still need so much help—”
“I will find a way,” he says firmly. “You have been away from your brother too long, and that is my fault. I cannot keep you any longer.”
“Tonight—”
“Yes.” His voice rasps, cracking slightly. “Only stay tonight, Noelle, if you wish.”
I should tell him, no, but I do. I do wish. I want to spend one more night next to the warmth of his body, smelling the scent of him on the pillow next to me, a strange comfort that I never knew I wanted until I had it. I want one more night with the monster in my bed before I leave this strange dream forever.
A monster who was never really anything more than a man, no matter who else said otherwise.
“Yes,” I whisper, moving towards him. “Yes, I’ll stay. For tonight.”
And then, before I can stop myself, I do the thing that I’ve thought about for so many days, since the night I woke up from what I thought was the strangest dream.
I step closer still, perching lightly on his side of the bed next to him, and I take his face in my hands. I feel the sharp bones, the shape of it, the rasp of his stubble against my palms. I look into his piercing blue eyes, eyes that frightened me that first morning and now frighten me for other reasons, because looking into them makes me feel things I never knew I could. I hold him in my hands, and I lean forward and press my lips against his.
My first real kiss. The first one I ever really wanted.
I feel his sharp intake of breath, the way he stiffens momentarily, his lips firm and resisting for a moment before he relaxes into the kiss with a groan. I feel all of him soften against me. “Noelle—” he murmurs against my mouth, my name ghosting over my skin, and I close my eyes as I feel tears burn behind them. I feel the dampness between our mouths, taste salt, and I know he’s crying too.
“I will miss you,” I whisper softly against his lips. “I want you to know that. I won’t forget you when I go.”
“Nor I.” His voice rasps against my lips, and I move onto the bed, carefully over him, so that I can lie next to him as I kiss him again. “I wish I could take you in my arms,petite souris.”
At that moment, I wish it, too. I wish I could feel him hold me, pull me against him, but I know it’s better that he can’t. I’m still in control of the situation, and I can keep myself from being overcome. I want him, but I know I can only let this go so far.
I can’t give Alexandre everything tonight—or ever. But I can give himsomething.
I can make sure that tonight is what I had hoped it would be—one last good memory for us both.
Behind my closed eyes, I see the twinkle of the Christmas lights and the leap of the fire from earlier. I taste the wine on his tongue as we deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding into my mouth, my lips pressed against his. I run my hands over him the way I know he wishes he could do to me, my fingers through his hair, down the hard line of his jaw, to the firm planes of his chest. I reach down, stripping off his shirt so I can run my hands over his skin, the flat smoothness of his abdomen, and the soft dark hair on his chest.
We kiss like that for a long time, until I take off my shirt too, without him asking. I lean into him, letting him feel the softness of my breasts against his chest, and he groans against my lips, turning towards me so I can feel him hard and firm against my thigh.
“I want you,petite,” he whispers against my mouth. “But only what you are willing to give.”
Slowly, carefully, mindful of the places where he’s still healing, I undress us both. Naked, I slip my leg between his, pulling him closer, my hand curled around his neck as I kiss him deep and slow, his cock hard against my belly. It’s not teasing so much as drawing out a moment I’ve wanted for longer than I’m willing to admit and the knowledge that we only have tonight. These kisses are our last kisses; these touches are our last touches. This night is the last time I will ever hold him like this, close and bare against me. It’s a gift both to him and myself, and I want it to last.
When it’s over, so are we. Tomorrow, I’m leaving.
I reach down, my fingers tracing the hard length of his cock as I kiss him, velvet flesh straining over steel hardness. I grip him in my palm, stroking, enjoying the jerk of his hips and the vibration of his groans against my lips, the way he wants me as badly as I want him.
He had said Margot was the only woman who could ever calm what tormented him. In the very depths of my soul, where I’m afraid to look too closely, I wish I could do that, too. I wish I could be that for him.
But all I can do is quiet his soul for tonight.
Alexandre arches against me, his lips slanting over mine, his body craving more. I know how badly he wants to touch me, and gently, I reach for his hand, moving it carefully so as not to hurt him so he can lay it against my hip. “I want us both to come together,” I whisper. “I can’t do more than what we’ve already done. But I want this to be different, too.”
It’s hard to stop kissing him. His mouth is full and soft and hungry, fitting mine as perfectly as if we were made to kiss each other. I barely know how to kiss at all, but with him, it feels effortless. His stubble scratches against my jaw, his lips trailing to my cheek and my neck as I stroke his cock, feeling him throb against my palm as he moans, his teeth grazing my collarbone. I’m aching, swollen, and drenched with arousal, but I feel as if I could kiss him all night.
It’s almost enough to make me cross that line, to hook my leg over his thigh and pull him into me, filling me up and giving us what we both need while I can still keep kissing him until we both fall into oblivion.
But I can’t cross that line. I can’t give him that, not like this. Not now—and since I’m leaving in the morning, not ever.
Slowly, carefully, we end up with Alexandre lying on his back, me draped over his chest as I kiss him again and again, my hand still stroking him lightly. I kiss down his neck and chest, lips dragging over every inch of skin as he arches and moans, his breathing coming faster as I near the thick length gripped in my hand. I want to taste him again, and it’s hard to tease him for long as I run my tongue up the length of his cock, feeling him twitch and throb beneath the caress.