Chapter 23 Mia
MIA
Dominic doesn’t even complain about the train.
He’s too busy being agitated that he can’t touch me in public.
His eyes stray over my body in a way that has me smirking, and it’s thrilling knowing he wants me so badly.
Something about this being a secret, being hidden away, even the fact that it’s wrong, makes it so hot.
We reach Gare du Nord at four o’clock, and the driver sent by the perfume company is waiting for us with a fancy sign. He looks confused by the man at my side, but says nothing.
“I booked you a suite on the same floor as mine,” I tell Dominic lightly in the car. “I thought it’d be more comfortable for you to have your own space.”
“Why thank you, Mia.” He rakes his fingers through his beard and growls. “I do appreciate that.”
“Just want to make sure you’re comfortable, daddy-o.”
His eyes bug out when I call him that, and I cover my mouth to stop myself from laughing out loud.
That was probably a little too cheeky, and maybe even a bit messed up.
I’ve never much been one for the daddy kink, it was never my thing.
It still isn’t, but teasing Dominic like this is fun, knowing he’s getting so worked up that I know exactly what he’ll do once we’re alone in the suite.
“The launch party starts at 8,” I say, gazing out the window. “We have a little bit of time before we have to get ready. Do you want to do some sight-seeing?”
“I’ve been here before,” Dom mutters.
“Of course, you’re probably tired, aren't you?” I smile sweetly and pat his arm. “We can rest before we get ready then.”
Dominic’s face is like thunder, a mix of simmering lust and sheer frustration. It’s just way too much fun, and when we pull up outside the George Cinq, he retrieves our bags so fast, the driver barely has time to react. We check in, and I make small talk with the receptionist in my broken French.
With a huff, Dominic puts an arm around my shoulders and forces a smile at the receptionist. “Excusez-moi, main nous devons y aller.”
I look up at him with wide eyes. “You speak French so well!”
“Je parle couramment, ma chère,” he murmurs, and gives me a crooked smile. “Now, can we go upstairs?”
“Of course.” I follow obediently as the porter takes our bags, which Dominic swiftly sweeps off the trolley.
“Je peux me débrouiller, merci. A quel étage?” Dominic asks, and the porter blinks at him in surprise.
“Eh, le septime etage, monsieur.” The porter watches us get into the elevator, and stands there wordlessly as the doors close.
I suppress a giggle, and Dominic gives me a side-glance.
“You’re asking for it, you know,” he mutters. “Lucky there’s cameras in here.”
“So lucky, or I’m sure I’d be really getting it, wouldn’t I?” I toss my hair and grin at him, then sigh theatrically. “Such a shame we’ll be in separate rooms, isn’t it? Oh well.”
The elevator dings, and Dominic storms ahead of me, stopping short at the door of my room when he realises I have the keys. I saunter down the corridor, and take my time opening the door. I sweep into the room, with its spectacular view of the Eiffel Tower, and sigh.
“Oh Dominic, look at this view!” I walk over to the window, taking off my coat and throwing it onto the chair. “Right on the Eiffel Tower!”
The door slams, and heavy footsteps stride across the room towards me. Suddenly, Dominic’s arms are around my waist, his mouth at my throat.
“We’re never taking the train again,” he says, pressing himself against my back. “That was torture.”
“Maybe it was just foreplay?” I close my eyes and smile as he cups my breast in his hand. “It certainly seems to have gotten you in the mood.”
“You get me in the mood.” He pulls my knitted dress up over my head, leaving me in my underwear and warm tights. “Driving me crazy like that, calling me fucking daddy-o in the car.” He pushes me over the back of the couch, and yanks down my tights and panties. “Fucking bad girl.”
“Oh, the dirty talk is finally coming out,” I say with a throaty laugh, which is quickly covered by a gasp as he spits on my pussy.
“You have no idea.”
There’s a sound of a zipper, and I tense as I wait for his sweet intrusion. He barely takes a second to crown my entrance before he plunges all the way inside me, and I throw my head back at the sensation.
“Oh!” I cry out, and then he starts to fuck me at an almost violent pace, his strokes deep and hard. I hiss out a breath through gritted teeth. “Oh, fuck.”
He slows a little, his hands digging into my hips. “That whole fucking trip here, I was thinking about this sweet little cunt.” He groans softly. “You’re so wet. You were thinking of me too, weren’t you?”
A strained laugh escapes my throat. “Of course I was. Watching you squirm like that, knowing you wanted me.” I moan as he slams his hips into me again.
“You’re a fucking little tease,” he says, and resumes that jaw-shattering pace.
I claw my fingers into the couch, gazing up at the Eiffel Tower. I never thought I’d be looking at that sight while stretched around Dominic’s cock. The sound of flesh slapping on flesh fills the room, and Dom groans.
“Fuck, you feel too good,” he breathes, jolting my hips back against him.
The deeper intrusion sends liquid fire through my veins, and I’m sure we’re going to catch ourselves a noise complaint within the first ten minutes of being in this suite.
Dom is louder now, moaning and saying my name, like a possessive prayer as he claims my body.
One of his hands strays around my hip to stroke my clit, helping me along as my orgasm builds.
But when I do come, the intensity blindsides me. I scream, fingers clawing into the couch, Dom’s arm wrapped around my waist to hold him to me as his own orgasm fills me up.
“Oh fuck,” he mutters, trying to catch his breath. “Fucking hell, Mia.”
I slump over the couch, shuddering as shock after sweet shock ricochets through my body. I clench my lips together, revelling in the feeling of each clench of my cunt clamping down on him, again and again.
He strokes my back with his fingertips, then my sides, moving around to my breasts. His thumbs graze my nipples, and just that touch has me aching to do it all over again.
But for now, Dom is more interested in aftercare.
And that’s how I find myself in the oversized tub, surrounded by bubbles, lying back against Dom’s broad chest. I sigh happily, gazing out the window at the fading light as the sun sets over the rooftops of Paris.
“This is lovely,” I murmur, and Dom presses a kiss to my temple.
“Shame we can’t just stay here all night.” He gently presses his fingertips into the base of my scalp, massaging my neck, and he chuckles when I moan.
“That feels amazing. You really are a man of many talents.” I sigh as his fingers dig in deeper. “You can cook, you can massage, you fuck like a god.”
“Like a god?” He asks with a laugh. “No one’s ever said that before.”
“Oh shut up, they have.”
“They haven’t, but thank you for the compliment.” He wraps his arms around my waist, pressing me to him, and kisses my shoulder.
I lean my head back against him. “I feel like we should talk.”
“About what?” He asks, continuing to plant soft kisses on my shoulder.
“Everything.” I suddenly don’t know what to talk about. I’m struck by how much there is to say, and at the same time, how little. “Us. How this goes on.”
“There’s time for that.” Dom nuzzles into the crook of my neck. “Right now, we have to ride this out, love.”
I turn so he lifts his head and looks at me. “So, we just keep this going, like this? Quietly?”
“I think that’s best. Then once you’re out of the whole mess with Archie, we can start being more public.”
My lips twitch into a smile. “So you do want to be with me then?”
Dom cocks an eyebrow. “Listen here, if I left you in any doubt of just how much I want to be with you, then maybe I’m not the god of sex you claim me to be.
I thought I made it very obvious.” He cups my jaw and pulls my face to his, kissing me deeply.
“Yes, I want to be with you. I want to hang off this balcony right now and tell all of Paris that I’m here with you and that-” He stops himself, taking a sharp breath.
“And that what?” I ask, my heart suddenly thumping in my ribcage.
He kisses my forehead and gives me a smile. “And that I feel so lucky to be here with you.”
I can sense what he almost said, but I don’t push it because it’s too soon for that anyway. He knows that, no doubt it’s why he stopped himself. And maybe it’s better this way, to have to keep this quiet, to let the relationship develop away from the public eye.
Yes, maybe that’s exactly what we need.