Chapter 32 #2
Then Michel pulled her down onto him, thrusting upwards again, and Eve realized he hadn’t even been fully inside her.
This time, the pleasure repeated, compounded.
She gasped and caught herself on his chest. And when Michel thrust up the third time, he hit a spot inside her, so deep she didn’t even know it existed, and the orgasm took her instantly.
It caused her to cry out and convulse, leaving her almost unable to control her movements.
After a moment, she blinked awareness back, and she looked at Michel, her body still writhing, grinding against him.
Michel, breathless himself, smiled and ran his hands up her back, pulling her close. “You made that too easy,” he teased, brushing her lips with his, drawing her hair back over her shoulders. “I didn’t have to do anything.”
She laughed, her body curling around his, demanding the closeness.
“You’ve done everything.” She took his lips as she continued to roll against him.
Even after the orgasm, she wanted more. After weeks of arguing, teasing, dancing around each other, running, coming closer but staying apart, they were connected.
The pleasure was so thick in her, she didn’t know what to do with it all, from the tips of her breasts, which he plucked as his hands passed over them, to all the places inside her that shivered against him.
She lived because of him. He lived because of her.
They had given and taken from each other.
She felt full, fulfilled, balanced in a way she had never known.
“Now,” she said, “take what you want from me.”
Michel’s face changed, dark with lust. His lips parted, and his eyes burned into hers.
He wrapped an arm around her waist then flipped Eve onto her back in one swift motion.
She jolted, surprised he could still move her with his injury.
She spread for him, needing him as deep as her body would allow.
“Michel,” she whispered, still rolling her hips against him, unable to stop her body now, the feel of him just too good. “Don’t hurt yourself.” She arched at another pleasurable spasm inside her. “If you’re okay, though, please don’t stop.”
“I’ll never stop.” He leaned into her until there was no space between them.
They were entangled. Eve’s arms around his neck.
Lips, tongues together, his scent all around her.
Michel's hips driving into her as they found a rhythm together. He pushed one of her legs out and up, spreading her as he settled her leg around his waist. Michel’s pace increased, and though she worried about him, the thought was lost as he stroked against that place inside her once more.
She lost control of her body, her movements.
It was all Michel. Their rhythm was changing, less thoughtful, more erratic, every sensation running through her body and centering on where they were joined.
Sweat slicked her body now, his body too.
He thrust into her forcefully enough to slam the bed into the supports of the yurt.
The whole structure shook, and for a second, she worried it would collapse on them.
Then he hit that spot inside her again and then again, and she didn’t care if the world fell in on them because she knew Michel would protect her, wherever they ended up.
Michel pushed himself up, changing his angle. It caused her to groan as she felt another new sensation. She looked between them, wanting to watch him enter her. But her eye caught a red streak across her torso, his blood seeping through the covering.
“You’re bleeding again.” She gasped, hands on his chest.
“It’s okay,” he said in a rush. “I’m fine.”
“Maybe we should…” She gasped as he hit that good spot again. “Stop.”
Michel only laughed. He grabbed her hands then and pinned them above her, holding her down while he kissed her.
Then he gripped her wrists with one hand and shifted the other hand between their bodies.
His eyes, dark and erotic, whispered his devotion to her, even as he stripped her of all control.
Eve strained her body to feel him against her again, worried about his wound but still aching to touch his muscles flexing above her.
She felt his thumb firmly stroking at her apex.
Between this attention to her outside and the unrelenting assault on her inside, Eve went wild.
Michel continued, taking as much of her as he could, his moans punctuating his movements, until he put his forehead to hers and slammed into her one last time, finally holding himself inside her, just where she wanted him.
Her body, so sensitive, reacted to having all of him.
Blooming and exploding, she turned to jelly, the feelings rocketing inside her, ripping the orgasm through her.
The power of it caused her to cry out his name, over and over, the only word she could think of.
Then she felt the sharp loss of him as he pulled back suddenly. She cried out again, protesting, wanting to continue to ride him, but she understood as she watched him lose himself across her belly with his own animal noise of pleasure.
He collapsed on top of her, his stamina having been siphoned away.
She wrapped her arms around him, accepting his weight, kissing his cheeks, his neck, as Michel slumped into her.
She was covered in him, filled with him.
The mess of sweat and blood and his seed was slick between them.
Michel brought one hand up to stroke her arm, tender, even as she felt his consciousness leaving him.
With a little effort, she was able to get one leg free while he remained on top of her.
She would have to clean them up and fix his bandage.
For the moment, though, she’d let him rest. He tucked his head into the crook of her neck, and she felt him submit to sleep while she continued to hold him, rub her hands over his skin, and whisper soothing words into his ear.
That was the first night they slept together in the same bed.
Still touching, naked skin, Michel gripping her possessively.
A few times, she woke to him clutching her and kissing her as he became hard between the legs again, and she would laugh and tell him, No.
“No, Michel, you must rest.” Michel would groan, only to fall back asleep.
The sedative tea she had given him was still working, just not enough to completely tame his desire.
Eve didn’t want to think too much about what was to come.
She needed to get him to the safe house so he could recuperate.
Then they needed to get to France, still undetected.
Now responsible for the deaths of two warriors from the same tribe, they would come for her eventually.
They would not let such a woman live, though it would take time for them to reach her as Ganbold had.
Her father would also be looking for her.
He would never stop. Once they reached France, she would send communication to him so he knew she was safe.
And when they reached France? She’d had thoughts of finding work before.
Now, though, all she wanted was to be with Michel.
His wife. A wife to a husband like him would be full of possibilities.
One thing she knew: Michel had dedicated himself to his position, and he wouldn’t marry her purely for desire.
If only she could tell him her status. That their union would be lauded across the continent.
It was the one thing she had kept secret, because if he did know this information, he would feel obligated to return her home.
A man of his position couldn’t steal a wife.
His wife, she thought of the possibility, a feeling of warmth coming through her, causing her to snuggle more deeply into him as he slept.