Chapter 33 #2
When the last square disappears and the screen goes dark, the silence in our suite is deafening. Elise exhales shakily, her hand slipping from mine.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” she whispers.
“What you said was important,” I counter. “I wasn’t kidding. We’re a worldwide player in the wine business. People are going to continue to do this. This time it’s Max and Evelyn. Next time, it could be Carl and Sarah with Red Engine. We can’t just take this.”
Her eyes move to mine, doubtful. “The news that Max is behind this with Evelyn is big.”
“It is.” My chest is still hot with anger, but beneath that is a sharper ache. I can’t stand the way Elise is shrinking into herself after everything she’s given us. I shut the laptop with more force than necessary. “They’ll listen. If I have to make them, they will.”
She shakes her head. “Your dad wants to retire. Tarryn and I can work this out. Don’t worry.”
I press my lips to her temple. “I’m proud of you. Do you hear me? Proud.”
A shaky laugh escapes her. “You sound like you’re making a speech.”
“Then let me finish it.” I tip her chin up until she meets my eyes. “You’re an important part of this family.”
Her breath hitches, and for a moment, the fight drains out of her. She sags into me, letting me carry the weight. We step out onto the balcony, and I wrap my arms around her from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder.
Tomorrow, the bubble breaks for good. Paradise Hill will demand us back—sabotage, family politics, battles waiting on every side. But tonight, on this balcony in Paris, I make myself a promise. I’ll fight them all if I have to. My father. Max. Evelyn. Anyone who is against us.
Elise isn’t just beside me. She’s mine. I finally understand that, and everyone needs to as well.
She turns in my arms, eyes searching mine. For a long breath we stand there, the city glowing behind her, until she rises on her toes and kisses me. Hard. Certain.
It’s her choice, her answer to every vow I’ve made. Her lips brand me with trust and demand in equal measure. My hands tighten on her waist, but she doesn’t let me lead. She presses me back, walking me inside, until the couch catches me behind the knees.
We tumble down together, her mouth hot and urgent against mine.
She’s straddling me before I’ve even caught my breath, and when I reach for her, she catches my wrist and pins it briefly against the cushion, a spark of mischief in her eyes.
The sight of her claiming the moment, claiming me, makes my blood roar.
“Let me show you,” I whisper when she finally lets me go.
I shift, slide down, and spread her thighs over the cushions. She stiffens for only a heartbeat before she melts back, eyes half-lidded, trust written all over her face. When my mouth finds her, she cries out, arching into me, and I swear I’ve never known anything more perfect.
She tastes like wine and heat, like the woman who’s been putting me together piece by piece.
I grip her hips, anchoring her to me as she trembles, as the sounds spilling from her grow louder, more desperate.
She’s grinding against me, losing control, and I want her that way. Wild. Unapologetic. Powerful.
“Kingston—” My name breaks from her throat, sharp and pleading. She fists her hand in my hair, tugging me up, eyes blazing. “I need you. Now.”
We stagger to the bedroom, shedding clothes between kisses. By the time we hit the mattress, I’m bare beneath her and sheathed in a condom. She takes me in with one fierce stroke. My head falls back, a groan tearing from my chest.
Elise moves above me, slow at first, then faster, her hair falling around her shoulders, her body glorious in the glow from the window.
I let her take control, let her set the rhythm, and every second of it drives me wild.
She’s on top, powerful, proving without a word that she’s no one’s afterthought.
I grip her hips and encourage her every movement, pride swelling with every gasp, every shudder. She’s not small here. She’s everything.
I reach up, cup her face, and force her to see me. “Look at you. No one dismisses this. No one dismisses you.”
Her breath catches, but she doesn’t falter. She rides me harder until I’m the one unraveling beneath her.
When I can’t take it anymore, I roll, pinning her beneath me, thrusting deep. Her cry shatters something in me. I pound into her, each movement a vow, each breath a promise. Mine. Always mine.
Her nails rake down my back, pulling me closer, holding me there as she breaks apart beneath me. The sight of her ecstasy, the sound of her moaning my name, pushes me over the edge. I spill into her with a groan, burying my face in her neck as the world blurs around us.
We collapse together, sweat-slick, hearts racing. I don’t move. I keep her caged beneath me, inside me, because letting go feels impossible.
She brushes damp hair from my forehead, her touch soft, reverent. “You don’t have to prove anything,” she whispers.
“Yes, I do,” I murmur, kissing her again. “I’ll prove it every damn day if that’s what it takes.”
Her smile is small but sure. She tucks herself closer, and the ache in my chest eases. Here in Paris, with Elise in my arms, everything feels right. This is what I want, and I want it to last.
Elise sighs against me, her voice drowsy. “I don’t want this night to end.”
Neither do I. Because, tomorrow, the bubble bursts, and Paradise is waiting.