Page 85 of The Stranger

“It’s too much,” I mewl, trying to twist away. The feeling is too intense. Every one of my nerve endings seems to scream for release.

“I’m not done.” His gaze crawls up my body, the attention like hot, caressing fingertips as his tongue licks into me again.

I close my eyes to the sight and swallow thickly.

Another carnal groan and I’m twisting under him like a hooked fish. “I think… I think your… your mouth should come with a warning label.”

He presses his smile into me, his tongue licking, long and lush. “And you should come again, I think.”

“I don’t think I can,” I whimper. Once is enough—more than I expected. More than I hoped for.

His dark laughter echoes through to my core. “I do love a challenge.”

I watch as his head dips, though his eyes hold mine as his tongue licks into me, so dark and clever. I expel a hiss, my insides reacting like a ribbon drawn across the blade of scissors.

“So fucking good,” he groans, his eyes falling closed.

“Oh my God.” His touch, his pleasure, dials everything back to a nine. And in that instant, a now familiar sensation begins to build.

“That’s it.” His demand is a honeyed purr, his tongue working me harder, faster. “You’re going to come for me again, little flower.”

“No.” I moan aloud like that’s somehow more convincing. “I can’t⁠—”

“Yes, for me you can.” His tongue swirls my clit, and I practically levitate from the marble. He sucks, and his teeth threaten, his attentions rougher this time around, somehow matching the swell of desperation inside me.

I curse as I slide my hand into his hair, wanting to share this pleasured pain, this sublime torment as I begin to buck into his face.

“That’s it, give yourself to me.”

It’s too much—an overload of sensation I can barely take. But I do take. I take it all as Luc pleasures me with his mouth and with his compliments, his true thoughts revealed in soft bursts of French.

You make me feel delirious.

I want you out of my thoughts and into my bed.

Jesus, what are you doing to me?

His name on my lips is a plea for mercy as he suddenly thrusts two fingers inside me, curling them to stroke that secret place that makes my skin feel electrified. I cry out as I press into his hand, thrust for thrust, my cries reverberating through the cavernous space.

“That’s it. Let me drown in you.”

My insides quicken, and my body begins to convulse as something sleek and hot rushes through me. I cry out, my climax unceasing.

I come to with a mewling sigh thanks to the last lingering stroke of his tongue. I watch almost out of myself as he stands, his hair a mess from my hands, and his mouth smeared lewdly with my pleasure.

My God, he is beautiful.

“Not a fluke,” he says, not without a little smugness. Or a ton of the stuff. He wipes the back of his hand across his wet mouth and even that elicits another round of pulsing. “And you’ll stay for the month.”

I push up onto my elbows, thoughtless words escaping from my mouth. “After that performance, you might never get rid of me. I mean—” My brain is three parts mush, no gray matter. “But I counted twice.”

He makes to dip but not before I bring my knees together. “No!” I sound truly panicked.

He’s no less smug as he cups the back of my neck, pulling me closer. “Give me your mouth, Primevère.”

I feel his smile and can taste myself in his kisses. It’s not odd, exactly, just⁠—

“Oh!”