Chapter 2
Chapter Two
D uring my two-night stay in Paris, I hadn’t opened my room curtain once.
It had been hard not to. Bloody hard. But I hadn’t wanted to risk seeing the light-blue Vespa.
And I sure as shit hadn’t wanted to see Pierre.
Three days after leaving London, we were headed toward the French chateau and, more importantly, Luca. Luca was exactly the distraction I needed because if I received one more gloomy look from Roman, I was going to slap him.
Or flash my tits—perhaps that would help him snap out of his mood.
Right from the very first moment I’d said hello to Roman in the Vacation Dreamz parking lot, he’d been acting all weird. He’d grunted his responses when I asked him questions, and his attempts at smiling came off more like he was popping out sneaky farts.
Maybe he’d somehow sensed my decision to keep my distance from him. It wasn’t always easy, given that nearly every day we sat barely four feet from each other in the bus. But I was giving it my best shot. Fortunately for me, I could cruise up and down the aisle, chatting with my tourists.
Each time I returned to my seat though, he tossed me a look that had me wondering if he was about to vomit, and then he’d spin his gaze to the road. The closer we got to Chateau de Fontainebleau, the more Roman strangled the steering wheel. I had no idea what was eating him up, but I didn’t want to ask either.
Maybe he was upset that he didn’t have a ‘Lydia’ to play with this time.
Too bad. So sad.
I had to force myself not to ask him what was wrong because I really shouldn’t care. But argh, it was so hard when he was acting like a sad sack for miles and miles.
As we turned into the chateau driveway, my heart galloped as I anticipated what Luca had prepared for me this time.
But he wasn’t there.
Bugger.
Roman didn’t crack any stable boy jokes, and I didn’t mention Luca to him either. But when he turned off the bus engine and shifted in his seat to look at me, the sadness in his eyes tore me up.
I wanted to ease forward and wrap my arms around him. To apologize for pushing him away and make him believe I was only doing this for him. For me. Opening that conversation was difficult enough. But with a hoard of hyperactive tourists behind us, itching to get off the bus, that conversation was impossible.
I offered a lopsided smile. “See you soon.”
He nodded, all silent and brooding, and I felt like the worst person in the world as I stepped down from the bus and walked toward the chateau with my group in tow.
Repeating the same spiel I’d done for every single visit to Fontainebleau, I escorted them from one aspect of the palace to the next, and finally set them up at the tables for their high tea.
With that done, I went in search of Luca.
He’d been waiting for me for the last two months. Why was he a no-shown this time? Stupid thoughts ping-ponged through my brain.
Maybe he doesn’t want me anymore.
He’s probably just busy with the horses.
Maybe I upset him last month when I cut our picnic short.
He might have the day off work.
Maybe he didn’t like the taste of my pussy.
Oh, God. That last thought was a doozy. I picked up my pace before I had any more crushing ideas.
I stepped between the life-sized horse statues and entered the stable. “ Bonjour, Luca. C'est Daisy .” My voice echoed off the stone-lined floor.
“I’m up here, Daisy.”
My heart galloped as I stepped into the open void centered between the stables and looked upward. Luca was leaning over the railing. My eyes nearly popped out of my head. He was naked.
“Come on. Hurry up.” With a beaming grin, he waved at me.
Giddy as a schoolgirl, I dashed toward the mahogany stairs at the rear of the building and climbed up, giggling like a randy truant.
I have lost control. Totally skipped off the reservation.
But I didn’t care. I needed this.
My first glimpse of Luca confirmed he needed it too.
No, not it . He needed me.
Holy hot cowboys . He hadn’t just been waiting for me. He was ready .
Oh. So. Ready.
He’d made the tartan rug bed, just like the first time, and the loft doors were open, streaming sunshine onto it and his rippling muscles. And his cock. Oh, Lordy . It was thick and large and pointing right at me. He wrapped his hand around his rod and pumped it a few times, but his eyes were on me. Wild. Bodice-ripper eyes. Burning into me like erotic flames.
My breath caught. My feet froze to the floor.
He strode to me, cock slamming side to side with each step.
As my eyes bounced from his rod to the fierce lust emblazoned on his face, only one thought flashed through my brain . . . I’d better hang on for this one.
He clutched my cheeks, bent forward, and planted his lips on mine. His tongue shot into my mouth as if he were desperate to taste, eager to please.
Within seconds, my pussy was purring. No, not purring, it was roaring. Like a caged animal begging for release.
I drove my fingers through his long hair. Clawed my nails down his back. It was wild. Crazy. Like the two of us would die if we didn’t fuck each other stupid. I wrapped my hand around his cock. It was hard. And hot and fucking glorious.
My pants fell to my feet and I flicked at them, fighting to kick them free. He parted my legs and shoved a finger inside me. It was swift. Shocking. So fucking awesome.
Clinging to his body, I spread my legs and he drove his fingers into me—grinding in and out with brute force. Fast. Hard. Over and over, giving me the greatest finger-fucking of my life.
I came. Quick and explosive. Agonizing yet exquisite.
I cried out as another orgasm sprang to life and shuddered through me again and again.
My juices spilled from my body. Once. Twice. Five times. It was wild. Intense. Out of this fucking world .
And it was over in minutes. Seconds even.
I stepped back, my pants slack around my left ankle. I still had my top on. And I was still wearing my fucking shoes and socks. Bloody hell . Panting, I clutched at a hay bail.
What the fuck just happened? I’m out of control.
Luca, on the other hand, looked calm.
Except for his raging hard-on pointing at me, begging for my attention.
Oh, he had my attention. His eyes were wide, pupils enormous. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths and his lips were parted, pleading to be kissed.
But as I looked from his cock to his handsome features, something sad and rotten and unfathomable curled in my brain. Roman. He was right there in my thoughts with his perfect smile and perfect hands. And perfect personality. I was doing this for a distraction from him. What I’d just done was a distraction, all right. Yet Roman bounded right back into my thoughts looking all gloomy and forlorn. It was messed up. My mind was messed up.
But one thing hit me with absolute certainty— I did not want to have sex with Luca.
I couldn’t. My heart wouldn’t let me.
The devil and angel in my brain struck up a furious debate.
Poor Luca. Look at him. He needs release.
You can’t do it. Not when you’ll be thinking of Roman.
Stop it. Roman means nothing.
Oh, but he means everything.
Fucking hell. What am I going to do?
A possible solution flashed into my brain. I cleared my throat and nodded at Luca’s cock. “Show me that again.”
His eyes widened. “What? This?” He curled his hand up his shaft and lowered it again.
“Yeah. That’s it. ”
He stared down at his cock as if stunned by its size.
I certainly was. In fact, even if I wanted to, I doubted that monster would fit inside me. He’d probably break me in two.
His eyes shifted to me. “You have to join me.”
“Huh?”
He curled his hand up his rod again, ever so slowly, as if every movement was exquisite agony. “Come on. I wanna see.”
Oh, jeez. I couldn’t do it. I curled my lip through my teeth, hoping I looked sexy. “I’ve had my pleasure. It’s your turn. Show me.” I spoke with conviction, surprising myself.
I was a dominatrix and Luca was my plaything.
My incredibly sexy plaything.
He parted his legs, giving me a better view of his enormous balls. Luca sure was well built. Maybe that was why he didn’t have a girlfriend. That beast would scare off most women.
His eyes shifted back to his cock.
His teeth were clamped so tight the muscles along his jaw bulged.
Slowly, oh so slowly, his hand curled up and down his rod.
I had a front-row seat at the most erotic show in the world. And I had zero intention of joining in.
A pearl of semen pooled at the head of his penis, and he captured it with a deep moan and rubbed it over his shaft. His eyes flashed to me and back down again.
Luca sucked air through his teeth, and I sensed he’d reached the moment of no return.
He stopped moving. Frozen in place, his entire body tensed as he inhaled long and deep.
It was a glorious moment. A tiny snapshot of raw eroticism. The sun streaming in through the opening captured the sheen glistening off his chest, his fiery red pubes, his rock-hard cock. His breaths were short and sharp.
His eyes shot open. Then closed. The slow and precise movements he’d had were replaced with hard and fast ones. He drove up and down his jackhammer with wild thrusts. He bent his knees and pumped. Over and over. With a deep, guttural growl, a stream of semen released from his cock and caught in the light as it squirted onto the tartan rug.
He kept going, again and again, until his cock softened in his hand.
It was a truly incredible thing to witness. It wasn’t dirty or nasty.
It was glorious and something I’d remember forever.
And the best part was, I could live with what just happened, and not feel slutty or wrong.
Luca and I shared a couple of awkward moments as we redressed. With a kiss on his cheek, I left him in the loft and made my way downstairs. Each step on my wobbly legs was a reminder of the explosive orgasms I’d just had.
As much as it was absolutely incredible, the fact that it hadn’t been enough to eradicate Roman from my brain scared the hell out of me. I’d thought that was a drastic measure.
How much more drastic could I get?
I had no idea.
But if I didn’t figure it out soon, I was in for hell.