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“Fine.” He dropped his head and kissed me. His tongue slipped past my lips just as he withdrew and drove punishingly hard inside me.
I moaned into his mouth.
He thrust again, tortuously slow and sweet.
Threading his fingers through my hair, he held me down and took me.
Long, slow, deep, deep thrusts.
I couldn’t fight it.
Each rock wrapped me in warmth and comfort, making my blood sing with gentle arousal instead of burning lust.
Breaking the kiss, he whispered, “I’ll play along, Ily. I’ll do whatever it takes, but for now…I don’t care what the cameras record. I don’t care what Victor thinks. This might be the only time in my life I can have simple, innocent missionary, and I’m going to enjoy it. I’m going to make love to you, not fuck you. And I’m going to show you just how much you mean to me instead of making you scream.”
I cried out as his mouth claimed mine again.
He thrust with a worshipping rhythm—relentless and ruthless, full of respect and benediction.
If Victor asked why Henri made love to me like a husband instead of fucked me like a monster, we’d tell him this was goodbye.
Goodbye to the feelings between us.
Goodbye to the love Victor said was such a disease.
Wrapping my legs around his rocking hips, I hugged him ever so close.
We kissed, we moaned, we rocked, and writhed.
And when his lips pulled back and his cock thickened to an unbearable size inside me, he set my heart on fire.
“Come with me.” His hand burrowed between us, finding my clit and stroking me.
I gasped as his length stroked my G-spot, but I didn’t reach those soul-scratching heights. Didn’t tangle fear with lust or drown beneath right and wrong.
For the first time, sex between us was simple instead of savage, and it made me fall in so many other ways.
He rubbed me and made love to me, and when I came, the wakes and ripples felt exactly like a hazy summer’s day.
“I love you,” he groaned, his spine rolling, breath catching, cock rippling with his own summer-sweet release.
This man had driven me to the depths of despair and revealed parts of myself I would never have been brave enough to explore.
But in that bedroom, on that night, I knew we would win.
We would get free.
We would save Peter and Rachel and every jewel.
It was destined.
I stroked his back as he collapsed on top of me. His cock continued to twitch inside me as he whispered, “Are you going to tell me what you, Peter, and Rachel have been up to now?”
I twisted my head, catching his soft grey eyes. “How…?”
He smirked. “I knew you three were up to something.”
“And you didn’t tattle?”
