Chapter 46
Anton
The goddess holding my hand as I lead her down the shallow steps to the pool level is already on her way to being my favourite version of her.
She’s beautifully déshabillé, that wonderful French term for being in a state of undress while also suggesting an element of dishevelment.
In fact, I suspect the English word derives from the Gallic.
She’s not looking as fucked and ravaged and blissfully sated, as undone, as she will be. But she’s worked up already. Her state of excitement was evident when I slid my fingers into the soaking heat of her cunt.
She’s finally allowing me to unravel her. She’s putting herself in my hands, with all her insecurities and inhibitions, and she’ll be fucking magnificent when I’ve finished with her.
‘Where are we going?’ she asks. Her untethered tits bounce beautifully as we traipse down the steps.
‘Away from the house,’ I tell her. ‘I want you feeling safe enough to let it all go for me.’
‘Thank you,’ she says and squeezes my hand. I know Céd and JJ are almost certainly off the property by now, but I could tell she felt exposed up there, and I need her able to fully relax.
I tug her to a stop in front of a canopied day bed. There’s an almost-full moon tonight, illuminating the sea in the distance. The pool is lit from within, glowing turquoise, but otherwise it’s darker down here than by the house.
‘It’s time for you to get naked for me,’ I tell her.
‘Are you going to get naked, too?’ she asks.
‘I will,’ I promise. ‘Just not immediately. Now strip.’
She reaches behind and tugs at a zip, pushing the fabric over her hips till it’s pooled at her feet, her thong with it.
She’s naked and beautiful, her hair soft and unstyled and her fucking glorious body bare for me to get lost in.
Fuck, her tits are spectacular. Everything is.
And, unlike last time I saw it, it’s all for me.
I step forward. ‘So beautiful,’ I tell her, sliding both hands around her waist and tugging her against me.
‘Feel how hard I am?’ I ask against her lips, swallowing up her yes with a deep kiss.
I allow my hands to wander over her perfect skin, dropping to her arse and kneading it hard as I shove my erection against her.
It feels like I’ve wanted this woman forever, which is nonsense, of course. It’s only been a few weeks. But the sense of relief, of triumph, of possibility, is no less.
I have her naked in my arms.
She’s mine to do as I like with, for tonight at least.
A woman like Genevieve will have impossibly high standards for anything other than a quick fuck, but I intend to break her and put her back together so beautifully that she’ll have no choice but to accept that we should be together.
I sample her mouth for a few more minutes and force myself to focus on delighting in this milestone—on the softness of her tits pressed against my abdomen and the feeling of her arse cheeks in my hands—rather than trying to get my end away as quickly as possible.
That said: my poor, poor dick.
‘Turn around,’ I tell her. My voice is soft, but there’s no doubt it’s a command.
She knows it, and she likes it, because she gives me a lazy smile and turns around, the dip of her waist and the pale globes of her arse picked out by the moonlight.
‘Perfect,’ I tell her, both because she is, and because I want her eating out of the palm of my hand. I want her desperate for that next scrap of praise. For that next touch. That next reward.
The daybed is a little low for my purposes, so I grab a couple of bolsters and put them right at the edge of the mattress, at the base of the bed.
‘Bend over,’ I tell her firmly, and she lets out what I think is a happy sigh and folds herself over before my eyes.
I was going to do this over the dining table, but this is better, because she’s bent far further over than she would be up there, her arms stretched out before her on the mattress and her arse held high by the bolsters.
I have plans for that arse.
Standing behind her, I get to my knees. There’s enough light from the pool to enjoy the sight of the glistening flesh between her legs. She’s so wound up already, but I plan to see how much more tightly I can wind this incredible woman.
I slide my fingertips up her legs, and she shivers. When I reach her arse, I stop and palm her cheeks, spreading my fingers and pushing them apart so I can see her more clearly.
‘All I have wanted since I met you is to do this,’ I murmur, my gaze dragging over her. My nose is inches from her wet centre, and the scent of her is fucking intoxicating. ‘It’s all I’ve been able to think about.’
She shivers. ‘Me too.’
‘I don’t know why the fuck you were in denial for so long.’ I rub my thumbs over her skin. I haven’t yet gone near the parts of her body where she needs my touch.
‘I wasn’t in denial.’
I lean in and feather kisses all over one deliciously plump cheek. ‘No? Why did you avoid me like the plague, then?’ I have a pretty good idea of why, but I want to hear her say it.
I need to hear her say it.
Silence, then, ‘Because you’re you.’
‘Meaning?’ I turn to the other cheek and give it the same treatment.
She huffs in frustration. ‘Anton. I need you to touch me properly.’
‘And I need you to be honest with me. That’s imperative, sweetheart. If you’re honest, I’ll reward you. If not…’
I pull away from her skin. Point made.
‘I was scared,’ she confesses in a small voice, and I instantly feel like a total shit, but I’m also thrilled, and I’m not sure why.
In any case, that merits a reward. I do what I’ve been dying to do and stick my face between her legs.
My nose nudges her slick entrance, and my tongue finds her swollen clit, and I lick.
Jesus fucking Christ.
She’s nectar.
‘Oh my God,’ she groans. ‘Fuck.’
I halt. ‘Scared of fucking me? Scared you wouldn’t be able to handle it?’
‘No.’ Her voice is wobbly. ‘I mean, maybe a bit? I know it’s going to be a lot.’
‘This evening is about us both taking what we’ve needed for a while,’ I tell her, sliding a single finger inside her and relishing the way her silky inner walls grip it.
‘I’ll go easy on you, because I’m too fucking turned on to try anything more structured.
’ I add another finger, and she tenses for a second, but she takes it beautifully. ‘But that’s not what you’re scared of.’
‘No.’
‘So?’ I twist my elbow so I can get better access and hold her folds open with my other hand. The sight of her, wet and quivering and needy and right fucking there, does such painful things to my cock that I’m in danger of coming in my shorts.
‘I was scared I wouldn’t survive it afterwards,’ she says haltingly. ‘That we’d… fuck, and you’d move straight onto the next conquest, and I’d be fucked. I told you, you’re you.’
I still. ‘Meaning?’
‘Come on, Anton. Don’t make me say it.’
‘I need you to say it, sweetheart,’ I tell her in the softest tone I’ve used on her all evening.
She groans. ‘Ugh. Fine. But you’d better give me a fucking orgasm after this.’
I chuckle. ‘One orgasm coming up. Spill.’ I wish I could see her face, but maybe it’s easier for her to confess like this. No matter. I’ll make her repeat it all to me.
Over and over.
‘I knew I’d be insanely attracted to you before I even met you,’ she says. ‘And then when you walked into that room, you took my breath away, and I knew I was in trouble.’
Jesus fuck.
I was right.
I really needed to hear her say the words.
I press a kiss to her clit. ‘Go on,’ I say, the words muffled.
‘There was nothing you said or did in that interview that quashed my fears. Because you came across as a total animal.’
‘And you liked that?’ I ask, withdrawing my fingers and sliding them back inside her, slowly. Slowly. She’s mesmerising.
‘Well I liked it on a sexual level, obviously. More than liked it. But when I tell you every single alarm bell was ringing in my head, it’s no exaggeration. God, that feels good.’
‘So why did you let me orchestrate things in my office, then?’ I ask. ‘And why did you agree when I challenged you to watch me fuck that woman in the club?’
‘I thought we weren’t talking about other people,’ she shoots back. I may have her bent over my daybed, but she’s no pushover, and I fucking love it.
‘We are for a second.’
She huffs, then pauses. Then she speaks, and her voice may be low, but it’s clear. Unapologetic. ‘Because I wanted whatever I could get of you. Even if it wasn’t enough.’