Chapter 24
As our deadline continues to loom over our heads, and neither Luc nor I is ready to give up our share of the chateau, I have officially stepped up Operation Let’s Get Luc to Leave. So far, it’s not working out so well.
“Pierre, how is it coming along?” I ask, walking into the new room Pierre and André are working on. Two of the suites were finished, but the chateau needs a few more before we can start renting them out. I’d spent hours painstakingly searching through old archives and visiting museums—all in the name of research, of course, and not because I secretly love going to museums—for inspiration for this room until I finally found the right design.
“Aurora,” Luc snaps. “There is no way I’m hanging this up.” He holds my latest art piece up—lucky for me, I found a use for all those metal bits after all.
“Why not?” Sticking out my bottom lip, I cross my arms over my chest.
“Is that?” Pierre asks, his eyebrows reaching his hairline.
“It’s supposed to be a representation of how the spiritual world and the physical world interconnect with the universe,” I explain, wondering why they are reacting so weirdly to it. Maybe they don’t believe in the spiritual realm?
Pierre snorts. “It looks like a woman’s pom-pom-fou.”
“See.” Luc points to Pierre.
“That doesn’t count. Pierre’s your friend. Of course he is going to side with you,” I say just as André walks in and gasps.
“When did we unload the vagina sculpture? That’s a bit much for even Isobel to sell.”
Luc sticks his chin out, proving his point.
“Fine.” I throw my arms up in exasperation.
“Men clearly don’t know what art is if it hit them in the face,” I grumble, picking up a paintbrush.
“This is art for, like, a vagina maniac or a sex museum,” Luc replies, shaking his head and walking the statue out of the room. I guess he’s not a fan.
I perk to attention at his statement. “Do you know of any sex museums that would be interested?”
Pierre shakes his head. Didn’t think so.
Pierre picks up his paintbrush, and it’s only then I realize something is funny about this newly dubbed Dauphin room. “What are you doing?” I ask Pierre, who is crouched down with a thick paintbrush in hand.
Pierre looks up at me, a streak of paint lining his chiseled cheek. “I just have one layer to go, and the room is painted,” he replies, confused over my questioning tone.
I can see that, the reply is on the tip of my tongue. Instead I ask, “Why are you painting the wall white?”
Pierre looks at me like I’m about to sprout a second head from the spot between my shoulder and neck. “Because you told me to paint it white,” he replied, slowly enunciating each word.
I pause for a second. Did Madeline and I have a little too much wine the other night when we were setting out the supplies for the rooms and accidentally put the wrong paint can in the wrong room? I’m sure I didn’t. I know my paints—that’s for sure. “No. No, I didn’t,” I whisper, shaking my head, pretty sure that I didn’t make that mistake. I’m meticulous when making sure everything is pre–laid out, marked, and assigned to the right room.
“Yes, you did.” Pierre stands up, showing me the paint can in the middle of the room; the word Dauphin is written in marker on the side of the can. Bending down, I squint at the chicken scratch passing for writing on the paint can. That is definitely not my writing. “And look, you left me this note.” Pierre grabs the piece of paper that was sticking out of his back pocket and hands it to me, like I’ve recently endured amnesia and can’t remember a thing I organized.
Pierre, you sexy beast. Please paint the Dauphin room in this color. And have it done by the end of the day. Aurora.
I gasp as I read the note. “I didn’t write this?” But I know who did.
“Yeah, I thought it was a bit funny you called me a sexy beast, but I’m also man enough to know you find this,” he gestures to himself, “hot property.”
Did he really just say that? Looking at the cocky smile on his lips…yeah, he really did. Rubbing my hand across my forehead, I feel the thrum of a headache coming on. This man is driving me wild, and it really isn’t helping that I wake up in his arms nearly every single morning.
“Luuuuc!” I bellow his name, dripping with venom, letting my voice carry across the chateau. I intend to make him pay. Pierre stands next to me, his lips screwed shut into a thin line, his eyes darting around the room with an oh shit look on his face, inadvertently scared of being placed between my crossfire with his friend.
Pierre clears his throat. “So, umm, what color do you want me to paint the walls?” he asks as I storm out of the room. If I didn’t have bigger fish to fry, I would be smug about being right, but Pierre was innocent in this…and for some reason, it just made things worse.
“That, smug, arrogant, GRRRRR,” I mumble down the hallway, my footsteps stomping against the hardwood floors, anger reverberating off me in waves. I need to find where Luc has hidden the light blue paint and go and check all the other tradesmen to make sure he didn’t change anything there either.
“Did I hear you call my name?” Luc asks, coming out of the kitchen, a baguette in hand, his lips pursed, and his eyes widening as he looks Pierre and I up and down, his eyes wide and innocent, but he knows he’s anything but.
“You did this on purpose,” I seethe, holding the piece of paper in the air.
“Whatever do you mean?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.
“Oh, drop the innocent act, we all know it was you. Sexy beast, really?” I growl, stomping my foot on the ground, taking out my anger on the newly polished hardwood floors.
“Are you saying Pierre is not a sexy beast?” he asks, quirking one eyebrow in question.
“What…I…No…” My cheeks heat as embarrassment floods my system. Throwing my hands up, I blow out a deep breath. I need to find the tin of blue paint, and I need to find it now, before I say something else stupid.
“Ready to forfeit yet, Impératrice?” Luc calls. A wide grin pulls at his generous lips just as I reach the front door.
“Not in this lifetime,” I reply, my hand tightening around the brass door handle.
“Have fun looking for the blue paint.” Luc gives a soft laugh, which only makes me angrier.
“Oh, it’s on,” I whisper, promising payback as I slam the door.
“So, I’ve been thinking…” I let my fingers trail through his silky soft locks as we lie with our legs intertwined in bed. After a bit of cooling off, I went back and saw the room Pierre was painting, and realized the color might not be so bad—not that I’ll ever tell Luc. But it did give me some time to plan my own little payback for him.
“This could be dangerous.” He turns his head on the pillow, inching our lips closer. Since Luc crashed the bed on my night, we’ve stuck to both of us sleeping in the bed, no more schedule. I’ve never slept so well, so easily, than when I am resting against his chest, his strong heartbeat matching my own.
“Since we’re in the g?te, and we said this was our space to…”
“Fuck?” Luc finishes for me.
Am I being a shameless hoe? Yes. Yes, I am. And I’m not saying all this time Luc has not been shy about wringing orgasms out of me, but he isn’t letting me return the favor as often; it’s part of the reason I’ve been able to go down to two coffees in the morning. He just has been very coy about taking that much-needed next step toward more intimacy. And I really want the next step.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t want you to think I enjoy pleasuring you because I expect the favor to be returned.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
I watch his throat work hard to swallow. My fingers lightly trace the closely cropped hairs on his chest.
“But what if—” I shrug, not able to meet his eyes. “What if I want to…” I lift my eyes to meet his, “take the next step.” I give myself a pat on the back. It’s better than saying ride your dick like it’s the champion bull at the local fair. “Unless you don’t want to,” I quickly input, wondering if I’ve read this whole situation wrong.
Luc secures his hand around my wrist and dots a kiss to my fingertips. “Aurora, I definitely want to move to the next step. But only if you’re ready.”
“Are you sure?” I peek at him from under my lashes.
Luc applies a bit of pressure on my hand, sending it down his body and landing directly on his already-hardened dick. “Pretty sure, yeah.”
“Hmm,” I muse, diving between the band in his boxers and wrapping my hand around the steely length. “I just hope your plenty-big-enough dick does a more-than-adequate job.”
The growl he gives has me laughing.
“More-than-adequate job?” He scoffs. “I’m going to enjoy it tomorrow when André asks you why you’re walking funny.”
“You’re right, I am wildly emphasizing the words and overinflating your ego. It’s perfectly capable of doing an okay-ish job but not quite gold-star worthy.”
“I’ll show you gold star.” Luc flips me over, my legs instantly locking behind his hips.
“It better be a good performance, Mr. Badeaux, because your other one was silver at best.”
“I do best when I’m under pressure,” he says right before his lips capture mine in a feverish kiss. Our clothes disappear from our bodies, and one of Luc’s expert hands finds my center while the other cups my breast.
“So fucking wet,” he murmurs, lifting the two fingers he had inside me to his lips. He coats his bottom lip, making them glisten before he lowers his head to mine. I immediately taste myself on his lips—and fuck, it’s the hottest thing ever.
“You taste fucking amazing, Aurora,” he pants, releasing my lips. I push him onto his back and shimmy down the bed, stopping when I reach his dick. I waste no time wrapping my lips around the crown, my tongue sliding through his seam while my hand pumps up and down his length and the other cups his taut balls. Luc’s thighs flex as he holds himself back, and the other hand snakes down, resting at the base of my skull, guiding my mouth down his dick as I increase pressure. “Fuck, Aurora. That’s it. Suck my cock like a good girl.” He twists his fingers into my hair, knotting the strands around his hand. I take the encouragement that he gives, twirling my tongue around his length. “Aurora.” My name is a guttural warning, his thick length continuing to pulse in my mouth. He pulls my hair as I increase my pace, getting a thrill with how receptive he is. “Fuck, it’s like you’re getting ready to swallow me whole, Rory.” All the muscles in Luc’s body tense seconds before he comes down my throat, and I swallow every last drop. He slides me up his body so we are eye level and takes my mouth in his.
“You’re stunning,” he gasps, dragging his mouth from mine. “Fuck,” he groans.
“What,” I pant, chest heaving as I suck down much-needed oxygen.
“I don’t have a condom,” he groans, resting his head on the spot between my neck and shoulders.
“Ah fuck.” I throw my head back on the pillow, surprised he is already getting hard again. “Don’t you need some time to recover there, tiger?” I peek at him from under my lashes, but I can already feel him grow underneath me.
Luc takes my hand and places it on his already-growing dick. “I’ve always been gifted with a small refractory period.” My mouth waters at his words. I wrap my hand around his length and give a firm tug, loving the way his jaw tightens.
“But with no condom, that’s a bit of an issue.”
“Shame, really. I guess you’re going to have to just get onto my face then.” Luc flips me over so I am now underneath him.
“Yeah,” I reply, a smile curling along my lips.
“I hope you aren’t planning on getting any sleep tonight, Rory.”
He pulls out my nickname, and the burning fire within me becomes napalm.
“That would depend.”
He lifts a chocolate brown eyebrow. “On?” he questions and hooks his arms around my knees.
“On how well you can keep up. You might bore me into sleep.” The sassy retort leaves my lips, and I love the way it makes the gold flecks in his eyes shine.
Luc bites the underside of my breast and blows a soft, cold breath over my nipple. “Oh, Rory, you have no idea.” That’s all the warning I get before he curls a finger into me. I scream in pure pleasure at the stretch of a second finger. “Rory, you’re gripping me like you’re made for me. You’re going to strangle my cock when you have it.” I dig my nails into his shoulders, urging him on, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.
“Yes, Luc!” I scream, blood roaring through my veins as he draws slow circles around my clit. And with my hips tilted at this angle, I know it won’t last long. I shatter into a million pieces.
He lies on his back. “Now sit on my face.” He points to his gorgeous lips.
“I don’t think I can come two times.”
“Yes, you can.” Luc grips the back of my thighs and hoists me up his body.
I brace my weight on the pillow beside his head. “Wait, I’m too heavy. I’m going to suffocate you.”
The corner of his lip kicks up. “Firstly, I never want to hear you say shit like that again.” He slaps my bare butt. “I fucking love your curves.”
“You think you love them now, but I don’t think so when I’m nearly crushing you.” I swallow. “And the second thing?”
“What second thing?”
I become breathless as his thumbs start rubbing small circles on the crease between my thighs. “You know when people list things it’s because they have multiple points.”
“Oh right. Secondly, get on my fucking face.” He pulls my thighs, and my core lands directly on his lips.
“Jesus fuck,” I groan as he latches onto my clit, nibbling it.
“Did I already make you forget my name, baby?” he rumbles against me. I run my hands through his head, tugging on the ends, placing his face back onto me.
“Only because you’re not doing a good enough job to make me remember.” They were bold words. And from the way Luc increased his teasing, licking, and biting, I think I’m about to regret them.
“Shit, shit, shit, Luc,” I chant on repeat.
“That’s it, baby, now you’re getting it.”
I smoosh my thighs against his head, I’m sure I’m probably cutting circulation off to the rest of his body, but Luc just grips my thighs and keeps going. That was it. I detonate. Screaming his name. Luc gives a few more pumps with his tongue, making my orgasm last even longer. Luc doesn’t disappoint. His first performance was gold fucking star, but the second one. Fuck, I’m torn between wanting to murder every single woman who has had him before me and wanting to thank them for making this man not just skilled in the bedroom but a literal fuck professor.
Luc’s mouth really is something else.