Chapter 30
My leather boot hits the wooden pontoon as I inspect the sturdiness, attempting to ease my nerves. I test it one more time. It seems like it will hold us just fine. I hope. All that’s left is to assemble the glamping suit that will sit on top of the pontoon. André left all the poles that need to be fitted together to make the hard shell next to the pontoon before he had to rush off to another job, which means I’m automatically delegated with putting the whole thing together. Fun. I lift the instructions and read through them carefully. I blink twice before letting the piece of paper float from my grasp. “Well, we’re fucked,” I announce. As much as I’ve come a long way as far as renovating is concerned, when it comes to following a set of instructions, I’m completely hopeless. The instructions may as well be written in alien script; all I can make out is “insert A portion into C portion and D portion.” What the heck even is “A portion?”
“Why didn’t André buy it from IKEA,” I groan, flipping the instruction manual over again. “At least they make it so easy to put together.”
“It can’t be all that bad.” Luc materializes behind me. I hold my hand to my beating chest, startled.
“You really need a bell,” I pant.
“And where would the fun in that be?” Luc deadpans and rolls his eyes.
“Maybe not for you, but certainly for me.” The image of Luc with a collar around his throat floats across my mind, and I smother a snort. I pick the instructions from the floor. I squint, both in an attempt to cover the glare from the bright sun and to help decipher the writing. Still nothing. I lower the page and look at Luc. “How long do you think André will be?”
He cocks his head to the side, his honey eyes heating. “Why? Having trouble there, Impératrice?”
“No.” I scoff and fold the piece of paper and tuck it under my arm. “I would just prefer if he was here to sign off. You know, supervise.”
“Mm-hmm.” He crosses his arms over his chest and rocks back on his heels. “Why do you think I just had to come and watch.”
My mouth drops open. “Do you ever stop being an arrogant ass?” I return his stance, crossing my arms over my chest and lifting an eyebrow.
“That depends, is it making you want to move out?” he replies, taking a bite from a fluffy donut. Powdered sugar coats the slide of his bottom lip, causing me to dart my tongue out, trying to lick the sugar off my own lip, mesmerized by his mouth working.
I shake myself out of my lust-filled haze. “Please,” is all I say as I sit on the grass, attempting to fit random pieces together. I pick up two pieces that don’t fit together, and I screech before throwing them back on the ground in frustration. I don’t have the patience to do this.
He relents after a few moments of silence. “Here, let me,” he says, grabbing the discarded instruction manual.
“I think André may have left the wrong instruction manual, or he brought the wrong thing,” I say, holding up two pieces that definitely don’t fit together, but I’ve managed to make fit.
“Hmmm,” Luc mumbles, then pulls down the page and looks at me. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do putting the D portion into A…” Luc trails off, scanning from the instructions to the mess I’m making. It must be the architect in him. My blood heats. It’s sexy as fuck. I grunt under my breath as I try to pull apart the two sections I previously shoved together, but they won’t budge.
Great, just great.
“How about trying to put that piece into that.” Luc points to the two pieces on the ground, and I dutifully put them together. Luc continues to instruct me—until we have the whole shell made.
“That was much easier than I thought,” I say as we lift the shell onto the pontoon already floating on the moat.
“Sure, I mean once the pesky instructions were actually right. This was a breeze.”
“Does it ever get annoying?” I ask.
Luc jumps off the pontoon and grabs the cover. “Does what get annoying?” he asks, picking up the tarp-like cover.
“Your constant need to be right.”
“I am always right.” His reply only annoys me more. “Does it ever get annoying for you?” he probes.
“I don’t have a constant need to be right,” I reply, fluffing him off with a wave of my hand.
Luc snorts. “No,” he stares me down, “your need to own this chateau.”
I can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth as Luc jumps back on the pontoon. I inhale sharply, his words cut deep. I’m not sure what to say back. Luc bends at the knee and sets the cover on the floor, starting to unravel it.
Clearing my throat, I answer, “No. I didn’t realize how lost I was until I found this chateau.”
Luc stills and looks over his shoulder at me.
“Chateau des éveillés has a way of finding lost souls and reuniting them,” he admits. “I always felt most at home the days we came to the chateau. When I could roll around in the garden, catch butterflies.”
“It was you.” I’d come across an extensive collection of mounted butterflies hidden amongst Louis’s old things. Chalking it up to a weird hobby, I put them back, never to be opened again. Ever. I even asked Madeline if there was some sort of butterfly festival which could explain the large collection. She was quick to inform me no, but loved the idea and is now wanting to devise one. I’ve just left out the reason I asked was because of that box.
“What was me?” he asks.
“The butterflies. I found a grave site of butterflies stuffed in a little box. I thought they were some sort of French bug repellent, so I quickly put them back.” I bite the corner of my lip, trying to hold my laughter. Luc throws his head back and laughs.
“I can’t believe the old man kept them. Every time I caught butterflies, he would tell me to make a wish. Do you know how many times I wished I could stay here with him?” A faraway look passes across Luc’s face, and his voice catches as he remembers his days catching butterflies. “I used to get so mad every time we had to leave, because my wish didn’t come true.” His voice becomes thick with unshed tears.
“My maman didn’t really care much for me, I spent most school holidays here with Louis and my grand-mère after my grand-père died. Louis really understood me. We always went camping, fishing, and gardening. He even taught me to drive, and he was one hell of a chess player. And then one day, my grand-mère decided not to come back, didn’t tell me why, but I was no longer allowed to see Louis anymore. When I was eighteen, I moved to Paris for college, and when I came home, he wouldn’t even open the gates for me.” Luc shakes his head, clearly still upset over what happened.
I blink rapidly, stopping my own eyes from watering. His childhood was vastly different from mine, yet the similarities were identical. Constantly carted between bickering parents because they can’t see past themselves.
“My mother loved to use me as a weapon against my father.” The words slip out of my mouth. Luc’s eyes soften, which encourages me to continue. “You see, I am the by-product of an unfortunate one-night stand, one my mother was determined to not let me or my father forget. I’m the source of her greatest failure. She despised the fact that my father loved me even though they had nothing between them other than a passion-fueled night. And when my father died, it was like I became worse than a burden, because her control over me became useless.” No matter how many times I say the words, it never gets any easier, and I never felt better for it. Baring my soul to all the ugly inside, it doesn’t make me feel stronger or freer. As the scabbed-over, giant, gaping wound in my chest reopens, I can’t even bring myself to look into Luc’s eyes, to see the inevitable pitying I get whenever I talk about my childhood.
After a few steadying breaths, I cool the burning at the back of my throat, and I finally get the courage to meet his eyes. “Before I came here, I was a shell of a person. Now I feel, for the first time, like I can say those words and not feel the pang of regret for what I don’t have.” The warmth of Luc’s hand settles on my own.
“I guess we were two broken souls searching,” Luc whispers.
“I didn’t know I was lost, until I found you and this place,” I whisper back, staring into his eyes. My tongue darts out, wetting my bottom lip as I press my body closer to his.
“Before I met you, my sky was gray and the clouds black, and now they shine as blue as the sea,” Luc whispers, tangling his hands in my hair.
Slowly, Luc’s lips descend on mine in a sweet yet comforting kiss. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, hugging him to me like my life depends on it. A single tear leaves the corner of my eye, everything Luc is saying is what I want to hear but while we still have the chateau between us, I don’t know how real this can be.
“Luc,” I breathe, breaking the kiss and resting my forehead against his. I inhale his spice orange scent, the heady mixture making me dizzy and feel safe all at the same time.
“Aurora,” he whispers back.
“I don’t want your pity,” I say, trying to pull away, breaking our contact. The cool air pools over my heated skin, making it pebble.
“Good, because I don’t pity you,” Luc replies. “Aurora, you’re one of the strongest women I know, why on earth would I pity you?”
My insides turn to jelly at his words. “You think so?” I ask as a fresh set of tears cloud my vision. I blink rapidly, trying to stop them from spilling over.
“Anyone would be stupid to pity you.”
“Thank you,” I reply, taking his lips again. I never wanted to be seen as a woman to be pitied. I want Luc to want me for me, not my circumstance. I open my mouth, deepening our kiss. Fuck, I could kiss him forever and never get tired of it. Of him. My hands work their way under his shirt. I need to be closer to him. I need to feel the soft touch of his skin under my fingertips. Luc must sense the need in me, because he pulls his thin shirt over his head. He adds a bit of pressure on my hips as he lays me down on the tarp we’d laid out.
“What if someone catches us,” I whisper as he tugs my top up over my head.
“Let them stare,” he breathes against my neck, his hot breath making me shiver. So does the idea of someone accidentally finding us. I hook my leg around Luc’s hip, pulling him down on top of me.
“I hope you’re going to give everyone a show,” I reply, a giggle bubbling in my chest.
“I’m more than happy to oblige. What my girl wants, she gets.” He nips my earlobe.
My finger plays with the top button of his jeans, and I tilt my jaw to the side. “Does she now?” I gaze into his eyes, loving the way his pupils dilate as I pop the button open and pull the zipper down. My panties were already soaked, but the moment he called me his girl, fuck me, if I didn’t make them a sopping mess. Luc already has my bra undone and is paying attention to my nipples. His expert fingers pluck my nipples as his tongue kisses and licks each peak, sending more sparks through my body. My hand slips into his pants and I grip his hard cock, pumping my hand up and down his length. Luc’s mouth falls open as his head relaxes.
“Like that baby?” I ask, enjoying watching him come undone. I’ve enjoyed testing our boundaries these last few months during our moments alone, but I’ll never get tired of watching how much he enjoys when I run my hand over his dick.
He pins me with a stare. “Almost as much as I’m going to love being inside your tight pussy.”
Fuck yes. Not that Luc isn’t a master with his mouth and fingers, but fuck, they are starting to become a poor substitute for the real thing.
Luc helps me shimmy out of my pants and panties; we wrestle them down my legs, only for them to get stuck on the tops of my work boots. Practical me didn’t think she was about to fuck Luc when she put her footwear on this morning.
“Fuck all these laces,” Luc grumbles, his fingers pulling at the strands as I continue to pump his cock. My finger drags the small bead of liquid along the head. Luc groans, his fingers tearing through the lace, finally getting my foot free. He grabs my leg, kissing his way up my calf and lightly bites the bend in my knee as he continues straight to my core. I run my fingers through his hair, lightly tugging on the strands the closer he gets to right where I want him. His tongue runs along the crease in my hip, before blowing on the overheated skin.
“Please,” I pant.
“Please, what?”
“Please fuck me with your tongue.” I gasp for air my lungs struggle to intake.
“What my girl wants, my girl gets,” he repeats seconds before his flat tongue works through my slit. My eyes roll into the back of my head as he lightly tugs on my clit, before going back to licking me in slow circles. I lock my fingers in his hair, choking him against my pussy. But I don’t think he minds too much, especially when he inserts a finger, which he pumps in and out of me at the same time as his mouth.
My heart stutters as Luc crosses an invisible barrier.
“Is someone ready to come?” He finally pulls his mouth off me, and my muscles tighten around his finger.
“Yes,” I reply. He sits back on his heels and fishes a condom from his wallet, one-handed, while his other hand continues to whip me into a frenzy. My vision dots as my body is ready to fall over the edge just as Luc replaces his finger with his thick cock and I shatter all over it.
“Fuck,” Luc gasps as my muscles squeeze him, holding him inside me.
“If you don’t move,” I pant. “I will kill you.”
“What my girl wants.” He smiles at me just as he hooks my leg over his shoulder, deepening him inside me. He pulls his hips back and slams into me, and I scream. Luc fucks like he does everything else in life. With his heart and soul. He fucks like it’s his purpose. Like worshipping my body is the only important thing to him. And I’m here for it.
“I’m not going to last long,” I wheeze, already feeling another orgasm building.
“Baby, this is only round one.” He nips my chin. My hand reaches down, and I rub tight circles around my clit. Luc’s eyes flick down to where my hand is and heat when they see what I’m doing. “That’s it, play with your pussy.”
My muscles clench harder around him, eliciting a deep grunt from his chest. “Fuck, baby, the way you grip me…like you’ve been made for me. It’s so fucking sexy.”
I dig my fingers into his back and chant, “Don’t stop.” Luc smirks at me as he pounds into me.
“Only for you, Impératrice.” He takes my lips again, his tongue matching the twirls of his hips. Until we are both panting. My skin becomes unbearably hot, and the muscles around my stomach tighten, readying themselves for the impending release. Luc lifts himself up to his knees, and my eyes roll into the back. That does it.
“Just like this, Rory. I love to watch you come. But I think watching you come on my cock may just be my favorite thing ever.”
My muscles bunch as the tingle starts in my stomach.
That was it. I explode for the second time, shouting his name. Luc gives a few more pumps before following me, grunting my name.
Luc is becoming too tempting. And I’m the fly happily sitting in his trap.