My name is a question, a prayer tossed up to fate, and there’s only one way to answer it. I take my free hand off the doorframe and reach to cup the back of her head, threading my fingers through her hair to cradle her skull. Her eyelids droop, pupils narrowing to glittering slits, daring me to go on. When I tug her head back to tilt her chin up toward me, she lets out the faintest of gasps.
That sound pricks my skin like the bite of a needle—the jab of pain before the bloom of the drug erases all memory of discomfort, of doubt, of reality, and leaves my synapses chasing the thrill.
She’s the thrill. Her lips, her skin, the arch of her bones beneath my hands—that’s what I’m chasing.
I hover over her mouth. I have to bend nearly double to get to it. She pushes up onto her toes, until the distance between our lips is down to millimetres and her chest is pressed to mine.
I can feel her heat. I can taste her need, so close now I can’t distinguish it from my own.
“Fuck it.”
I only just have time to mutter the words, and then all restraint is gone and our mouths are on each other, taking and taking and rioting for more. Her hands search my chest and dig into my back as I tighten my grip on her hair and finally get a handful of those curves with my free hand. The flare of her hip makes me weak the first time I feel its swell under my palm. She shifts into my grip, and I make a sound that’s close to growl.
The door barely has time to slam shut before I’m pushing her up against it. Our kisses are breathless now, ragged as I grab her waist and lift her up while she wraps her legs around me. The angle gives her control over the kiss, and she takes it. Her fingertips dig into my scalp as her tongue slips inside my mouth. I press myself harder between her hips, and she turns her face away to muffle a groan against my neck.
Then she starts kissing me there, sucking and nipping at my skin, and it’s like the fires of damnation flare up around us. There’s no going back now.
“You have far too many clothes on,” I mumble, fixing my eyes on the ceiling and begging for the control to take this slow.
“What was that?” she asks, the question coming out on a panting breath.
“I said—oh.” I spoke in French without even realizing. I repeat myself in English.
She lets out an exhilarated laugh. “It sounds sexier in French.”
I put on an exaggerated accent. “Everyzhing does,Mademoiselle. It eez zee language of love.”
She smacks my shoulder. “Never mind. I’m leaving now.”
I give her thighs a squeeze. “Not a chance.”
Some of the heaviness slips from the moment as we laugh together, but the heat doesn’t fade. I keep her wrapped around me as I move us away from the wall and start heading for the bedroom. She taps on my ass with her feet as we’re passing the kitchen.
“How rude. You haven’t even offered me a drink.”
I forgot to put away the bottle of Merlot I pulled out after getting back to the apartment tonight. It sits on the kitchen island, condensation beading the glass.
“Would you like a glass of wine,Mademoiselle?”
She grins at me. “Maybe I would.”
I don’t know how it’s possible for a woman to be so sexy and so damncuteat the same time.
I set her down on the edge of the island, kissing her a few times for good measure before I step away to get a glass. When I turn back, I realize there was no need. She has her lips wrapped around the bottle. My cock instantly becomes more jealous of that bottle than of anything else in the world.
Monroe takes a swig and makes a show of swishing the liquid around her mouth before swallowing. Again, my dick would give anything to trade places with that Merlot right now.
“Very full-bodied, this one,” she muses, full on bull-shitting now. “An interesting...nose, with notes of...floral...stuff.”
“What a unique description.”
I move close enough to grab hold of her foot. She’s still wearing her boots, and I pull one off and then the other as she continues to sip the wine. I start on her socks and then knead the soles of her feet with my hands. She groans.
“Good wine?”
“Mhmm.” She squirms on the island. “Very.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
