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"You're so fucking beautiful down here." Her brown skin, pink puckered asshole, wet juicy pussy, it was all too much.
I pulled at my clothes, getting naked at record speed while I hungrily watched her pussy glisten with her release. "You're going to have to come again, baby," I warned her. "I want to feel you squeeze me."
"Oui," she murmured.
I entered her, and everything quietened. The conversation with Vincent, the worry over what Dean was up to, my fear for Elsa during childbirth,everythingwent silent, and all I felt and smelled washer.My wife.
"I love you." I began to pump in and out of her, keeping my pace slow, enjoying her moans, the feeling of her clamping down around me.
"Je t'aime, mon mari." I love you, my husband.
Her words spurred me on. She had recently started telling me she loved me all the time, and I felt like a fucking king every time she did. It was hard won, her love, and it was the most precious thing in my life.
I played with her clit, tweaking it between my thumb and forefinger. Her mewls became louder, and I relished how easy and wonderful it was to be with Elsa. How satisfying before, during, and after sex was with her. It had never been like this. Freeing.
I'd avoided relationships because I didn't want to give up my freedom without realizing that being with the woman I loved was the most fucking liberating thing in the world.
"Elsa, fuck, fuck, fuck." I pounded into her as my release began deep in my spine and raced through me. Her release mixed with mine, and the whole world, I was certain, went up in flames as we came together.
Chapter 37
Elsa
Sex with my husband wasmagnifique.
After he cleaned me up and I managed to nestle against him, half on him, half on the bed, my head on his shoulder, and his arm around me, I asked him to explain what he was so relieved about during dinner.
"I talked to Vincent." He stroked my arm absently. He did that a lot. I don't think he even noticed how he always touched me when I was around: a hand on the arm, a kiss on my forehead, a stroke on my cheek. A girl could get used to this!
"Vincent?" I had suspected he would contact him after he wanted to know if he could trust him.
"I asked him to help me remove Pascal from our livesandconvince your father to retire."
I stilled. "What does getting Pascal out of our lives mean?"
He chuckled. "He's not dead. Vincent set him up. Don't ask me more because I don't have details."
"I don't want to know," I assured him. "Set him up for what?"
"Vincent used third parties to lure Pascal into selling weapons illegally and got him caught in Berlin. He's not coming back to France."
"He always wiggles out," I warned him.
"Not this time. Vincent got Interpol involved. This isn't some small shit that he can bribe his way out of."
"And Papa?"
"Pascal was working with your father."
I knew my father wasn't a good man, but I didn't want to see him in prison.Butif Papa was dealing illegal weapons, didn't he deserve it? My heart stuttered and I couldn’t help but worry.
"Vincent has proof of your father's involvement, which, if he turns over to Interpol will mean your father will have to share a cell with Pascal. Vincent's used that to convince your father to retire."
"Retire?" I whispered.
"Yes."
"What does that mean?"
