Chapter 30
MEGAN
Regaining my balance, I throw my arms around Nico’s neck and arch my back into him as I kiss him, pressing my hips into his and eliciting a low growl from the back of his throat that sends my heart into a frenzy.
Without breaking the kiss, he guides me backwards into the room so he can kick the door shut behind him, his strong hands roaming up the curve of my hips and waist, round to my back, holding me against him as the kiss grows deeper.
I move my hands to the side of his head, my fingers raking through his hair as he parts my lips with his tongue, caressing it against mine, a feverish ache for him pumping through my veins and consuming me entirely, causing a moan to escape my lips before I can stop it.
The sound does something to him, the kiss becomes more urgent and as I break for air, my breathing shallow and unsteady, his lips skim along my jawline and down to my neck, a warm pulse building between my legs.
I slide my hands down his broad shoulders and solid chest, my fingers fumbling at the buttons of his shirt as I undo them one by one, while he finds the zip of the dress and slides it all the way down.
I pull back to step out of the dress and he finishes taking off his shirt, yanking it down his arms and dropping it on the floor, before his hands find me again, grasping at my bare waist and pulling me into him.
As I crush my mouth against his, desperate to taste him again, needing to be close, he lifts me up and my legs wrap around his waist as he moves us over to the bed, lying me back with ease before he lowers himself on top of me, leaning on one hand, the other sliding up the side of my thigh.
For the first time since he came to my room, we take a moment, looking at each other properly.
Our breathing heavy and ragged, I can’t stop a smile, biting my lower lip as my hands freely move from the flexing muscles in his shoulders as he holds himself in place above me down across his sculpted chest. He smiles back as I shift beneath him, leaning lower on his elbow, his other hand coming to rest on my waist.
‘You are so beautiful,’ he says quietly.
‘So are you.’
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ he checks, maybe misreading my pause as a hesitation.
‘Nico,’ I say with a light laugh of disbelief, ‘I’ve never been surer of anything.’
It’s a bit of an overkill statement encouraged by the events of the evening, but I think I also mean it.
I’m beginning to realise that when I’m around Nico I feel like, after a very long time, I can finally breathe.
Is that possible? That I’ve been holding my breath for fifteen years and suddenly I’m with the person who always had this unnerving ability to make me feel like I don’t need to do anything to impress him because I impress him anyway.
The smile he gives me when I say that sends my heart into multiple somersaults.
He lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me slowly and deeply, a kiss so intense, shivers race down my spine.
My hands find his belt and begin to undo it, and he responds by kissing down to the base of my throat and along my collarbone, my breath hitching at the fluttering sensation caused by his full lips hungrily covering every inch of my skin.
He draws back to undress fully, gazing at me as I lie in front of him and I feel a rush of exhilaration as I marvel at his toned arms and chiselled abs, before he returns to me, his fingers hooking at the sides of my thong and peeling it down over my legs, trailing light kisses along my thighs.
When he disappears to follow my instructions to the condoms that live in my washbag in the bathroom – a memento from my life with Dominic, if I’m honest, for whenever we went away for the weekend since I came off the pill last year – I stare up at the ceiling, trying not to think about the complications that tonight might bring.
I desperately attempt to drown out the questions that float across my mind about how I’m going to feel when I have to get on a plane in a few days, whether I’ll be able to handle a fling, not with some random guy but with Nico, knowing that this is all this can be because he loves running this chateau here in France and I have a career and life back in England.
When he reappears, foil package in hand, I turn my head to look at him and none of those questions seem to matter.
I’m desperate for him to come back to me, to feel the warm weight of his body pressed against mine, and when he leans over me again, I cup his jaw with my hands and lift my head to kiss him passionately, letting him know how much I want him, how much I need him, and feeling dizzy with happiness as my need is reciprocated.
He doesn’t put the condom on right away, teasing me for as long as he chooses, leaving kisses down my breasts and stomach, his lips and tongue burning my skin as he explores the inside of my thighs until I gasp at the soft pressure of his mouth between my legs, my back arching at the pleasure unfurling through me.
He torments me until I beg to feel him inside, and when he finally puts on the condom and pushes into me, I moan in satisfaction against his full, soft lips, and low, guttural sounds emit from his throat as we move together.
Heat pulses through every part of me as we find a rhythm, the fluttering ache building at the intensifying thrusts, spurred on by his hot, fast breathing in my ear and the way he curses when I nip at his lip, kissing me urgently in response.
My legs begin to tremble, his fingers digging deeper into my skin as the torturous, thrilling pressure builds and we move closer to the edge, releasing together, his lips capturing the groan that comes from mine.
And just like when he first kissed me all those years ago, I know nothing will ever come close to what it’s like being with Nico, how he feels, how he makes me feel.
Digging my fingers into his shoulders as his lips brush against mine softly and slowly, a long, drawn-out kiss, I’m suddenly filled with a fear so strong I can’t let him go.
I have no idea how I ever walked away from him and I have no idea how I’m going to have to do it once again.
***
Legs entwined, my head resting on his chest, we drift off to sleep and when we wake up together at some point in the night, dozy and deliriously happy, we have sex again because I can’t get enough of him and I don’t want to waste any more time.
The sunrays through the curtains wake me a bit later and I study his long, full eyelashes and the sharp line of his jaw as he sleeps, wondering why I’ve been so stupid as to wait all this time to get him into my bed and what I need to do to keep him there.
Forcing myself to leave his side, I creep to the bathroom and take the time to do some damage control by way of sorting out my hair and cleaning my face and teeth, returning to the bed to find him stirring.
Grabbing his shirt from last night and pulling it on, I slide into the sheets next to him as his eyes flutter open and he breaks into that devastating smile, dimples on show, creases around his eyes, the one that causes flutters to erupt in my stomach and every sensible thought in my head to fly out the window.
‘Good morning,’ he says, rolling onto his side so we’re facing each other and reaching out to brush a lock of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear.
‘Morning,’ I say, weirdly nervous because this part is always a little awkward for everyone, even if he does look so relaxed. ‘How are you?’
He grins at me, a mischievous glint in his eye. ‘Very, very good.’
I giggle as his hand reaches for my waist, pulling me towards him. His lips brush against mine and then I prop myself up alongside him so I can trail kisses along his jaw.
‘What time is it?’ he asks, nuzzling into my hair and neck.
‘Early,’ I answer, before dropping back to the pillow next to his.
He rakes a hand over his face and groans. ‘I have to be up early.’
‘I thought you might. You should be so proud of yourself for last night, Nico.’
He gives me an impish grin, reaching to pull me back to him again. ‘So should you.’
‘I was talking about the ball!’ I laugh.
‘Oh. I was talking about other things.’
‘Yes, I got that, thanks.’ I kiss him for being so adorable. ‘So can you tell me what I’m doing today, then?’
‘Hmm.’ He grabs my hips and pulls me on top of him, and I shriek with giggles, straddling him as he looks up at me smugly. ‘I have many ideas.’
‘I meant what activity is waiting in store for me,’ I explain, running my fingers through his hair. ‘Stop getting distracted.’
‘Can you blame me? You’re wearing nothing but my shirt.
’ He gazes up at me and sighs, lines appearing between his eyebrows as he knits them together.
‘All that’s left is the fireworks tonight.
You have to enjoy the fireworks of Collioure.
That’s it.’ His throat bobs before he adds, ‘The final task and then . . . you’re done. ’
I nod slowly. ‘Right. Dad loved that firework display. Makes sense it would be the final farewell.’
Nico shifts beneath me, propping up his pillow behind him before he pulls himself up into a sitting position but not letting me move off him. Leaning back, his hands rest on the side of my legs.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks, concerned.
‘Yeah.’ I smile at him. ‘I’m more than okay. I just . . . I don’t know how it goes from here.’
He tilts his head. ‘How what goes from here?’
‘All of it,’ I answer honestly.
‘I think that’s up to you.’ He pauses. ‘Do you want to hear my thoughts?’
‘Yes, I do,’ I say brightening.
‘I think you should change your flight and stay here longer so we have more time together,’ he says, his bluntness taking me by surprise.
‘Do you.’ I fight a smile, my heart hammering against my chest. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’ He gives me a quizzical look so I add, ‘Won’t it make things harder?’
‘No.’ He shrugs. ‘You leaving here was always the worst time of the year for me. I’ve suffered it so many times, I don’t see how it could get harder. Maybe now we’ve slept together it could be worse, but we’ll see.’
My smile breaks and I emit a laugh.
‘What’s funny?’
‘I’m discovering that you’re not the type to play it cool.’
His expression relaxes as he tips his head back, exhaling. ‘Megan, I don’t have time to pretend.’
I can’t laugh at that. ‘No, we don’t.’
‘But you have the house now,’ he points out, ‘so you’ll be able to come here a lot.’
I frown in confusion before realising what he means. ‘Oh yeah, Dad’s dream house. God. I can’t believe . . . that’s bizarre. I’ll have a house in Collioure.’
‘So long as you’re beneath those fireworks with your mum, the house is yours.’ His hand reaching up to the side of my head, he draws me in for a soft kiss. ‘You know, I think your dad always saw it as a house for every season.’
‘Huh?’
‘It is not just for the summer. It isn’t a holiday villa. It’s a house to be lived in. Perfect to write a children’s story there, an amazing location—’
‘Nico, are you suggesting I live there?’ I laugh. ‘God, you are averse to taking things slow aren’t you. Bloody hell.’
‘I’m not saying live with me, I’m saying you could think about being in Collioure a lot more,’ he points out, grinning at my teasing. ‘You would be happy here.’
‘Would I!’
‘Yes, I could personally make sure of that,’ he offers, sitting up to brush his mouth against mine.
‘Wow,’ I whisper against his lips, ‘you really do strive to go above and beyond here at Chateau du Chèvrefeuille, don’t you.’
‘It’s all part of the service,’ he says, before gripping my thighs and rolling me onto my back in a swift motion, covering my neck in kisses and getting to work undoing his shirt while I giggle at his ear, lost in the moment and forgetting any complications that may lie ahead, giddily foolish with happiness.