Chapter 10
TEN
PICTURE THIS
Taylor
I hurried back to my seat and opened the notes app on my phone, eager to read William’s fantasy. From the first line, it didn’t disappoint.
I’ll take ye anyway I can have ye, but picture this: it’s a Saturday afternoon.
I get back from the castle gym, and you come in from a run.
We arrive at the crofthouse door at the same moment.
Before we’ve even stumbled inside the hall, I have my hands inside your running shorts, dragging them down your long legs.
You get caught up trying to strip off your sports bra so I have unrestricted access to bury my face in your pussy.
I eat you out on the stone floor.
You’re screaming in minutes. We’re sweaty already but we get so hot, then you pull me up for a kiss, and I slide inside you, then we’re fucking right there, like we can’t keep our hands off each other to even make it to a soft surface.
God! My thighs clenched. I wanted that scene, and I made a mental note to find a hotel room with a stone floor to reenact it properly.
There was more.
After, I carry you up to our bedroom, and we take a hot shower.
You go down on me, and I hold your gorgeous head, controlling the most incredible blow job.
But I don’t come. I save that until I’m inside ye again, bending you over under the hot water.
Maybe using the powerful showerhead on your clit while I fuck you from behind.
There’s a cheeky last line which has me smiling through my blushes.
After that, we have dinner and watch an old film. I might even let you choose.
Ah, William. He delivered on the sexual part of his dirty dream, but he’d also made it into a date. How wonderful was that?
My own fantasy had been for him to surprise me at work—which patently put it into fantasy land as I’d never have a proper job—then drag me away into an empty office and bend me over, too urgent to even undress me. Funny how we both liked that idea.
The flight tracker put us at halfway to Paris, and I needed a second to cool off before I jumped back into round two.
Instead, I considered my options for my bucket list. I’d visit the Eiffel Tower, sure, but maybe William could help me out with one or two more. Maybe the laughing until I cried one. Or perhaps the tears could wait until we had to part.
Would I cry for William McRae? This newfound emotion I had would guarantee a little heartache. How strange to be so sure of something I hadn’t experienced yet.
How miserable, too. Not that I’d tell him. No need for both of us to mope.
I drummed my fingers on the phone then typed up another of the endless sexy times I wanted with this man.
We switched phones again. As we did, he kissed me right there in the aisle. It only lasted a second but contained a none too subtle message. He’d wavered over how much he wanted me, but the animal inside had won.
William was mine, for a little while, at least.
And I was his.
By the time it came to disembark, I was wet and more than willing, but there was no time to rest. After a ride in a high-smelling taxi from Charles de Gaul to the centre of the city, we came to a halt, the streetlight-illuminated road blocked by a chanting crowd.
“Christ. Look at this. They found the bands, then.” William peered out of the window and enclosed me with one strong arm, but I could tell he was itching to start shooting.
Our fantasies would have to wait. Paris had plunged William right into his first job.