Chapter 46
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Eloise
“Your bathside manner is impeccable.” I smile at him across the table.
“You liked that, did you?”
I nod. “The vanilla scented bubbles, the extra care you took to wash certain areas of my body, the kisses while you did that.”
He had helped me get in his claw foot tub and then sat next to it, reciting a few lines from different poems Claude Garin had written. The reason for that was that he was testing my knowledge.
I knew exactly what poem each quote belonged to. When I switched it up to quiz him, he knew it all, too.
He got on his knees then to wash my body, taking his time to soap a washcloth before he ran it over me. He stopped every few seconds to kiss my mouth softly.
All of this happened with candles lighting the room and a glass of red wine at the ready.
“This food is delicious.” I point at the bowl that once contained a creamy mushroom and herbed soup. The small plate to the left of it only has a few strawberry slices on it. I polished off the other berries and pieces of kiwi.
“I can’t take credit for any of that.” He grins. “The soup is my favorite from that particular market. Fruit is fruit.”
“You don’t cook much, do you?”
He shakes his head. “I work too much to cook.”
My gaze drops to his bare chest and the tattoo that winds around his bicep. He took off his shirt after I “accidentally” splashed him as he sat next to the tub. After he dried me and dressed me in one of his white button-down shirts, he changed into a pair of jeans.
“When did you get the tattoos?”
His gaze darts to his arm. “Years ago.”
I study the design carefully, noting how the shaded gray and black ink contains a few symbols and what looks like someone’s name.
My heart sinks as I crane my neck to try and read it.
“Rudy,” he whispers. “It says Rudy.”
“Oh.” I sit back, slightly embarrassed that he caught me trying to make it out.
“He was an old friend,” he explains.
Was.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
I want to know more about the person he cared enough about to tattoo his name on his body, but I don’t pry. I trust that he knows I’ll listen if he wants to share.
“Thank you.” His eyes meet mine across the table. “Do you want more wine?”
Since he didn’t indulge in a glass of the robust red with me, I shake my head. “I’m good.”
He pushes to stand. “I’ll clear the dishes. What do you say to watching something on TV? I’ve got one in my bedroom.”
I can’t read between those lines, so I nod. “I’d like that.”
He reaches for my dishes but stops to stare at me. “Say you’re feeling better, Eloise.”
“You’re feeling better, Eloise.”
He laughs. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
I laugh, too. “I’m feeling much better.”
“Good.” He scoops up all the dishes, balancing them perfectly in his hand and on his forearm.
“You used to wait tables,” I assume.
“Didn’t everyone at some point?”
Not me. The only real job I’ve ever held has been at Vinyl Crush.
“I’ll put these in the sink and then take you to bed.”
I can’t help but smile. “I can’t wait.”
His back is against the massive headboard. My back is against his chest. I’m nestled between his bare legs as he rests a hand on my right thigh.
“Are you comfortable, lamb?”
“Very,” I whisper.
He’s cradling me in a sense. I can feel his heart beating against my back.
I feel safe and protected in a way I don’t think I’ve ever felt.
My gaze shifts to the bedroom window. There is no blind covering it, and the sheer curtains are opened to reveal the soft light streaming in from the city.
“I like watching TV like this,” he confesses. “The city provides just the right amount of light.”
I smile because this is my perfect scenario. Everything about this moment will live within me forever.
“What do you want to watch?” he questions as he reaches for the remote. “Don’t say a medical drama.”
I lean back to rest my head on his shoulder to can catch a glimpse of his handsome face. “How do you know I watch those?”
“Tell me you don’t,” he scoffs. “No one can diagnose, treat, and release someone from the hospital in that amount of time, Eloise.”
“I don’t watch for the doctors’ medical skills.”
Pretending to look shocked, he tosses the remote back on the bed. “Do you touch yourself when you watch those doctors do their thing?”
I laugh. “I’m never telling.”
“Show me then.”
I can feel his cock harden behind me. He’s wearing boxer briefs, but the outline of his erection is pressing into the small of my back, right above my ass.
“You want me to show you?” I look up at him again. “You want me to finger myself?”
His hands jump to the front of the button-down shirt I’m wearing. He unbuttons it swiftly, pushing the fabric aside to expose my naked body.
Before I say anything, he has my right breast in his hand. He kneads the flesh, pinching my nipple. “Show me now.”
I lean back slightly, finding the perfect spot against him before I trail my right hand over my thigh.
I can feel the shift in his breathing immediately. The span between his heartbeats lessens.
I moan softly when I first run my fingertips over my cleft. I’m already wet. The thought of him watching me get myself off is heady. It’s set a fire inside me that I know will only increase in intensity until I come.
“Touch that pretty pussy,” he growls. “It’s so goddamn beautiful.”
I do just that, honing in on my already swollen clit.
My hips move with each tight circle my finger makes.
“You do that when you’re thinking about me,” he whispers in my ear as his left hand joins in and glides over my thigh.
He pinches my nipple harder, upping the pace of my finger.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs against the shell of my ear. “You’re going to come for me like this, then I’m going to fuck you.”
The promise of his cock is enough to send me closer to the edge. “I want that.”
“You need that,” he corrects me, his voice hitting a dangerous low that both soothes and excites me.
“I need it so much,” I agree, my head resting against his shoulder as I whimper. “You fuck me so good.”
His hand jumps from my thigh to my core. He threads his fingers through mine to take over.
My legs fall open wider, giving him more access.
“You’re so goddamn wet.” He groans. “Come for me, lamb. Come.”
I do. I break apart inside, and a rush of desire storms through me, splintering my control. Shaking from the orgasm, I call out his name.
As I fall back from it, he tugs his shirt off of me before he slides off the bed.
He moves quickly. Grabbing a condom package from a drawer on the table next to the bed. His cock is covered quickly as I rest my cheek against the blanket, trying to catch my breath.
“Over here.” He pats the edge of the bed. “On all fours, ass high.”
I scramble to get there as quickly as I can. My desire for his cock dictates each of my movements.
When I’m in place, he tugs me even closer to the edge. He’s standing next to the bed, and as he lines up to enter me from behind, he trails his hand down my back until he slaps my ass cheek. “I’m not going to last long, sweet thing. This pussy owns me.”
I push back, wanting him now. “Please.”
His hands grip my hips as he slams into me in one swift thrust.
I cry out because there’s a sharp burst of pain before that morphs into pleasure. “You’re so deep.”
“Brace yourself,” he whispers into the silence of the room. “I promise you’re going to love this.”