Chapter 12 #2
I hook her legs over my shoulders and lean in.
The first touch of my tongue makes her scream.
Not a controlled sound. Not polite. A raw, desperate scream that echoes off the tiles.
"That's it." I lick her again, slow. "Let me hear you."
I eat her like I have all the time in the world. Long, slow strokes of my tongue, learning her taste—sweet and musky and intoxicating. Finding the spots that make her shake. When I seal my lips around her clit and suck, she nearly comes off the counter.
"Oh god—oh fuck—Bastien—"
"You taste incredible." I pull back just enough to speak against her, let her feel the vibration. "Like you were made for this."
I slide one finger inside her, crook it forward, and she sobs. She's tight—so tight—and dripping wet.
"So responsive." I add a second finger, watching her face. "So perfect. You have any idea what you look like right now?"
She shakes her head, beyond words.
"Wrecked." I curl my fingers, stroking that spot while my tongue circles her clit. "Beautiful. Like a fucking masterpiece."
Her hands find my hair, gripping hard. I let her.
"That's it." I work her faster, feeling her thighs shake against my shoulders. "Take what you want. Use me."
"I'm—Bastien, I'm going to—"
"I know." I seal my mouth over her clit, suck hard, fingers pressing relentlessly. "Let go. I want to feel it."
She comes apart with a scream that echoes through the apartment.
I work her through it, softening my touch as she shudders. When she finally stills, I press one last kiss to her inner thigh before I stand.
She's boneless. Destroyed. Looking at me like I've taken her apart and she's not sure how to be put back together.
"Good girl." I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. "Think you've got one more in you?"
She laughs—breathless, incredulous. "I don't—I can't—"
"You can." I unbuckle my belt. "You will."
I pull her to the edge of the counter, wrap her legs around my waist. She's so wet I can feel it against my cock before I'm even inside her.
"Tell me you want this."
"I want this." No hesitation. "Please."
I push inside her slowly, watching her face. The way her eyes flutter. The way her lips part.
She's tight. Impossibly tight. Her body grips me as I sink deeper, inch by inch. The heat of her, the wet silk of her walls—it takes everything I have not to lose control.
"Perfect." I bottom out, hold myself there. "You feel perfect."
"Bastien—"
"I know." I start to move, slow and deep. "I've got you."
I fuck her like I've been waiting years for this. Not desperate. Deliberate. Every thrust designed to build her higher, to learn what her body wants.
"You're extraordinary," I tell her, reaching between us to circle her clit. "The sounds you make. The way you move. I could watch you like this for hours."
"Please—" She's climbing again, I can feel it. "I need—"
"I know what you need." I thrust harder, faster. "I can feel you getting close. You're going to come for me again, aren't you?"
"Yes—god—yes—"
"Look at me."
Her eyes meet mine—dark, desperate, undone.
"There you are." I hold her gaze. "So beautiful. So fucking perfect. Come for me, Madeline."
She shatters.
I watch every second—the way her face transforms, the way she screams my name. Her walls clamp down so tight I see stars, and then I follow her over, burying myself deep.
We stay like that, both of us catching our breath, her forehead against my shoulder.
"Stay," she whispers when I start to pull back. "Just... one more second."
I stay. Press my lips to her hair.
We end up on the floor eventually. Not elegant. Just gravity and exhaustion.
She's sprawled half on top of me, her head on my chest. I trace patterns on her bare back.
"He's going to lose his mind," I say eventually.
She stirs. "What?"
"étienne. When he finds out."
She's quiet for a moment.
"You're not angry. About what happened with him."
"No."
"Why not?"
I think about it. Really think, instead of reaching for the easy answer.
"Because being angry about it would mean I think you belong to someone. And you don't."
She's quiet for a moment.
"Is that what you're doing with me? Giving me space?"
"No." I turn her face toward mine. "With you, I'm trying to get closer. That's the difference."
She searches my eyes. Settles back against my chest.
"So what happens now?"
"Now I salvage whatever you were cooking. And we'll figure out the rest later."
"That simple?"
"Nothing about this is simple." I trace her jaw.
She's quiet for a while. Then: "Bastien?"
"Yes?"
"What if this ruins everything? The arrangement. The kids. All of it."
I don't answer right away. Because she deserves honesty, not reassurance.
"It might," I say.
She looks up at me. Waiting for the rest. The part where I say But it's worth it or We'll figure it out or some other easy comfort.
I don't offer any of that.
"It might ruin everything," I repeat. "And I still want you here."
She holds my gaze for a long time. I watch her decide whether that's enough.
She doesn't tell me what she chooses. Just puts her head back on my chest and listens to my heartbeat while the kitchen cools around us.
I let her keep that one to herself. Some things you shouldn't have to say out loud until you're ready.