Chapter 16
LUCA
She carried the plates from the dining table to the kitchen counter next to the sink.
“I can help you clean up.” I hadn’t done dishes in a long ass time. Hadn’t done any housework at all. I’d had someone do everything for me for so long I forgot all the domestic obligations that made a house run.
“Fuck no.” She left the plates there along with the empty glasses of wine, showing her experience as a waitress by carrying everything at once.
She turned back around to face me. “I don’t give a damn about dishes right now.
” She moved into me as she said those words, rising on her tiptoes and hooking her arms around my neck to kiss me hard on the mouth.
It was like the kiss in the entryway, the heat burning us both to ash. Once I felt her mouth against mine, the muscles that squeezed my spine relaxed, but everything else clenched tight in desire.
She grabbed the bottom of my shirt and tried to get it over my head, but she couldn’t reach past my shoulders. Frustration was in her eyes, like she wanted it off but couldn’t do it on her own.
I felt the smirk pull at my lips before I yanked it off myself.
Her hands immediately palmed my chest, and she looked at me like I was everything she ever wanted.
Her eyes found mine again, and then there was a distinct flash of emotion, a dance in her eyes I could see.
She stepped close to me again and kissed me, this time slow and delicate, her hand stroking my jawline.
I was hard underneath my jeans, but the rest of me felt soft. Soft in a way I’d never known.
Her hands gently pushed on my chest and backed me up, farther and farther, her confident eyes on me.
I felt the barrier at the backs of my legs when I hit the couch. I sat down and leaned back, looking up at her as she pulled her top over her head and unclasped her bra, revealing her great rack.
My eyes dropped because she had such nice tits.
Big, but not too big. Firm and perky. Little nipples so high they practically saluted you.
She moved to her jeans next, undressing herself while she looked at me, confident and seductive. She turned around before she pushed her jeans over her ass, bending in the process so I could watch.
Damn.
She wore a little white G-string underneath. Her ass was tight like she walked everywhere in Paris, up all the flights of stairs to her apartment every day, giving herself a nice peach that usually had to be created with exercise in the gym.
She pulled the panties off too, showing me that pussy that already had a shine.
Jesus.
She turned around and faced me again then moved to her knees on the hardwood floor.
Her hands started at my thighs then snaked to my jeans before she popped them free and tugged down the zipper.
Just like when she gave me the best head of my life, she tugged down my jeans to my ankles like it was her honor to suck my dick.
My dick was so hard it hurt.
She moved into me like she was going to do it again, beg me to come in her mouth because she liked the taste.
“No.” My hand grabbed her throat and tugged her to me. “I want you.” I’d never turned down a blow job in my life. First time for everything, I guess.
Her eyes softened for a millisecond before they heated again. She crawled on top of me as she straddled my hips, her arms wrapping around my neck so she could kiss me again, our mouths level with each other when she was on my lap.
I dug into her hair with one hand, while the other gripped her nectarine ass. Her tits grazed against my chest when she moved, and I could feel the sharpness of her pebbled nipples. Her skin was cold to the touch but would soon be warm after we moved together.
She sat on my lap, her pussy right on my dick, and I could feel it.
The wetness of her slit. A waterfall of arousal, a viscous lubrication that must have emerged the second I walked in the door because there was so much of it.
She continued to kiss me, rocking her hips slightly so her pussy could glide over my length. The wetter she became, the more it smeared, and the louder the friction between our bodies became. She started to dig her clit into me as she kissed me, pleasuring herself with my mouth and my dick.
I squeezed her cheeks as I felt her tits against me, my dick so hard and anxious but also content with what we had. The moment I was sheathed in that soaking channel, I would be done for, so she could get herself off all she wanted.
She started to moan louder into my mouth as she dug harder into me, dragging her wet folds across me, the most seductive woman I’d ever been with. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it. She knew what I wanted and wasn’t afraid to give it.
She came to a stop abruptly, and her hungry mouth kissed me once more before she pulled away.
She rose up and balanced on the balls of her feet, my dick too long for her to ride me comfortably, and she guided my length inside her before she slowly dropped down, the muscles of her thighs and ass working beautifully.
I hooked my arms underneath her thighs and loaned her my strength, and together, she rode my length from head to base, her core tightening whenever there was too much, but she didn’t dare protest.
Fuck, I already wanted to come.
A beautiful woman was bouncing on my dick with the endurance of an athlete, her hair swaying, her posture straight.
Her bare pussy was clenching down on my length over and over, flooding it with her arousal and smearing it with enough cream to make a café crème.
All I could do was tense and focus, try to think about something else besides the fact that this was the best pussy of my fucking life. Let her get to the finish line first, because Jesus Christ, she deserved it.
She started to slow, her hands moving to my shoulders to use as an anchor to pull herself up, a starry mist emerging in her eyes. Her pants from working hard turned into moans, and then those moans turned into chaotic whimpers as her channel tightened around me with the strength of an angry cobra.
She finally came with a burst, breaking at the seams, releasing cries and moans that echoed in her small apartment.
The windows were still open, so a neighbor may possibly be getting the show of their life.
“Yes…” Nails sank into my chest and started to drag, her beautiful eyes locked on mine as she stared into my soul.
Just a little longer.
She continued to clutch my dick with that pussy, squeezing every last drop of pleasure before it was gone.
Come on, Luca.
She finally came to a stop, catching her breath because the exhaustion hit her after the pleasure swept her away.
I could come right now even if she just sat there because she was so damn hot, but I waited because I wanted the full experience of her riding my length with her stomach tight and her hard ass working to lift her body up and down.
She caught her breath and started to move again, pushing her hips down to my base and up again, over and over. Her legs were tired, but she continued to work, letting me do at least half of the work with my arms.
I moved her harder and faster, ready to come inside that slick paradise.
She came to a stop, grabbed my arms, and put them behind my head, her fingers squeezing my wrists before she pulled away.
I let her do what she wanted, mesmerized by this woman.
She did the rest on her own, wanting me to enjoy it without moving a muscle, feeling her smash my dick over and over, more cream building up at my base like she was a soft serve machine.
My arms rested across the back of the couch, and I continued to watch her, her beautiful skin coated in sweat, her muscles flexing, more beads of sweat forming in the line between her tits. Her hands used my chest and shoulders for balance, and she continued to bounce up and down.
I could barely keep my bullet in the barrel before, but now, I naturally suppressed it because I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want to stop watching her work so damn hard to fuck me. Our bodies were so slick together, and she handled my big dick like she was woman enough to take it.
With her eyes on mine, she said, “You’re so hot.”
Whether it was sincere or just a tactic to get me to come because she was exhausted, it worked.
My hands clenched the pillows that lined the back of the couch, and I felt my chest nearly split from the breath I took.
My mountains trembled as they cracked, and I released a fountain of desire inside her, an unstoppable geyser potent with my aching arousal.
I couldn’t keep my hands on the couch a second longer, and I gripped her tiny little waist, bringing her up and down on my length as I finished. “Fuck.” I tugged her hard as I pumped inside her, every muscle in my body so tight they were about to rip.
I gradually came back down to earth as she slowed and came to a stop with a pool sealed between our bodies. She still breathed hard, and her hair was slightly wet from the sweat. But I was so hard, it was as if I hadn’t come at all.
I threw her to the other side of the couch, a little harder than I meant to because my arm muscles were so tight.
She moved into the corner and immediately widened her thighs for me to crawl between them.
I pinned her in place then folded her up like she could bend in any way I wished. Then I shoved myself inside her, moaning when I was returned to paradise, and I fucked her like everything that had just happened was foreplay.
The couch was way too small for me, so we ended up in her bed. Not on different sides of the bed, but together on one pillow, her leg hitched over my hip, a bottle of wine on her nightstand because we didn’t bother drinking from a glass.
Her face was close to mine, and sometimes she would dig her fingers into my hair and feel the short strands. Other times, she would trace my jawline with a finger. Touch one of the veins in my neck. She seemed as absorbed in me as I was in her.
I cupped the back of her thigh underneath the sheet as her knee bent over my hip.
I’d fucked all kinds of women, short, tall, stacked, whatever.
But she was more petite than usual. She was small but still had the tits and hips of a woman.
I was an ass man, and while she had a gorgeous derriere, her tits were some of the nicest I’d ever seen.
Sometimes her eyes would drift from mine, but they would always come back.
It was late, after midnight, but she was wide awake, like she didn’t want the evening to end.
My phone had been left in my jeans on the living room floor.
Whenever I checked it, I would probably find dozens of messages waiting for me to resolve.
The guys might even think I was dead.
“Can I ask you something?” she said quietly.
“Anything.” Jesus, who the fuck am I?
“Do you normally sleep with women bareback?” Her hand came to rest on my arm, feeling the separation between my bicep and my deltoid.
“No.”
She gave no visible reaction, but I could somehow sense a jolt of surprise.
“I always wear something,” I said. “You?”
Her fingers started to explore my arm again. “Me too.”
So both of us had turned into irresponsible idiots at the sight of each other.
“I guess that’s okay…as long as you don’t sleep with other people.”
Completely unhinged from the man I was just a few weeks ago, I blurted, “I haven’t been with anyone else but you since we met.
And I don’t want to be with anyone else but you.
” I’d never done this before, never pursued a single woman and excluded everyone else from the running, and I felt like a goddamn idiot every time I spoke.
But she smiled like what I said wasn’t stupid at all.
Like she felt exactly the same way even though she didn’t say a word.
She planted her palm on my chest and kissed me softly, kissed me with restrained passion, slowly curling up closer to me, her tits against my chest. “Are you real, Luca Fournier?”
I watched the guys load the bags into the back of the truck.
When they were done, it was locked from the inside as well as the outside.
The truck was both bulletproof and fireproof.
No one was getting inside before it arrived at their destination.
It looked like a regular black van to anyone who didn’t know what to look for.
I locked the back then knocked my fist against the back door.
The garage doors opened, and the van pulled onto the street before the door shut again. It was on its way to the Old Republic Bank—not a real bank at all, at least not to the public. The place where the tariffs were dropped off to be processed accordingly by the government.
“We’re going to Maxine’s.” Carvel came up to my side, a cigar already in his mouth after a long night. He turned away and headed toward the main doors, and when he realized I wasn’t with him, he turned back to me, an eyebrow cocked. “What’s the holdup?”
Maxine’s was a brothel in Paris. A subtle, but not so subtle, place that was frequented by men like us. “I’ve got shit to do, Carvel.”
He came back to me. “What shit? Tariffs are paid for the month. We’re paid for the month.”
“You need me to tell you where to put it or what?” I snapped.
“I just don’t understand why you don’t want to go.”
“And I don’t understand why I need to give you an answer.”
The confusion spread across his face like a bad infection, but then it quickly disappeared. “Ah…Aliénor.”
I wouldn’t deny it, but I wouldn’t talk about it either.
“So, this is pretty serious, huh?”
I turned my back on him and grabbed my laptop from the desk before I shoved it into my bag.
“It’s okay to be seeing someone, Luca.”
“Never said it wasn’t.”
“Then why don’t you just say that.”
“Because we aren’t two girls gossiping in the bathroom. My business is my own. I don’t ask about Irene or whatever the fuck her name is.”
“Irene—you got it right.”
I pulled my bag over my shoulder and walked out. “Goodnight, Carvel.”