Releasing her with a glorious grin, he stepped back to welcome Yelena.
“Hi, Jean-Luc,” she said, kissing his cheeks in greeting. “I’d love to have you sketch my portrait, when you’ve finished theirs,” she said, gesturing to his waiting customers. “We’ll wait until you’re available… and browse through your work.”
Jean-Luc nodded and returned to his clients. A few moments later, the couple departed, satisfied with their charcoal portrait.
While he sketched the young woman, Yelena admired Jean-Luc’s talent as she and Ella examined the displayed pieces. “I love this one,” she exclaimed, indicating a painting of five female flamenco dancers with vibrant costumes in alternating colors of yellow and red. “He’s captured the fluidity of movement with the unfurling ruffles of their dresses. The intensity of emotion in their facial expressions. The power and passion of flamenco. I’m going to buy it. And every time I look at it, I’ll remember the performance we saw. When Jean-Luc dancedjust for you.”
Ella’s stomach somersaulted at the memory. Jean-Luc’s powerful legs. His feet stomping and prancing like a wild stallion. The flick of his long mane, drenching her with droplets of sweat. Making love to her through his dance. Liquid fire pooled between her thighs.
When he’d completed the portrait of his last customer, Jean-Luc beckoned Yelena to come forward.
She handed him the painting she’d selected, settled into the folding chair, and smiled knowingly at Ella while he worked his magic with charcoal on the paper stretched across his canvas. Half an hour later, when he presented the completed portrait, Yelena glowed in delight, praising his work effusively.
Jean-Luc rolled her portrait carefully inside protective paper, then slipped an elastic band around the outside to secure it tightly. Wrapping her painting of the flamenco dancers as well, he tucked both works of art inside a paper bag with handles for her to carry home. He swept her debit card and thanked her for the two purchases. As she signed her name across his phone, he announced with a nod to the painter nearby, “I’ll ask Gérard to keep an eye on my things while Ella and I walk you home.”
After escorting Yelena back tola résidence, Jean-Luc and Ella returned tola Place du Tertreto pack up his supplies. “I’m so glad you came here tonight. I wanted you to spend the night with me, but midnight is much too late for me to come knocking on your door. This is perfect.” He pulled her close, brushing his lips softly against hers. “Now we can make love. And sleep in each other’s arms.” The tip of his tongue traced the silky lining inside her mouth, sending warm waves of pleasure rippling to her core.
Ella’s legs weakened with desire.
As Jean-Luc locked the door to the apartment behind them, Ella set down the bags she’d carried back to theAtelier des Lumières. He placed a stack of paintings in the corner, washed his hands in the nearby sink. And led Ella up the wooden stairs, through the double French doors. To the sumptuous bed bathed in moonlight.
“I thought about youall night,” he whispered in her ear as his lips trailed kisses along her throat. He lifted her black top up over her arms, baring her small breasts.
Quivering in anticipation, Ella’s entire body twitched and trembled.
As warm, insistent lips engulfed her swollen nipples, creating a throbbing ache between her thighs, Jean-Luc pushed her jean skirt and lace panties down her hips to puddle on the floor. While she stood nude, shaking with desire, he removed his black tee shirt, and Ella ran her fingers through the hair across his chest.
He unzipped his jeans, and Ella followed the dark trail down his abdomen, her appreciative gaze resting on his ardent arousal. Taking her hand, he led her to the bed and laid her down gently. He pushed her thighs wide, moaning as he parted her wet folds with trembling fingers and lowered his eager mouth to lap, lick, and slurp her luscious wet lips.
Ella gripped the sheets as her leg muscles tightened, the intense pleasure almost unbearable torture.
“God, I want you,” he groaned, positioning himself between her quavering thighs. The tip of his engorged cock poked and prodded, seeking entrance and promised relief from the agonizing ache.
Slipping his calloused hands under her receptive hips, he tilted her pelvis up. And plunged them both into paradise.
Ella wrapped her arms around his broad back, her legs around his pulsing hips, pulling him deeper inside as she matched his pumping thrusts. Tighter and tighter she gripped him, the tension mounting to an excruciating peak, until he arched and burrowed into her, filling her depths with liquid fire.
Rhythmic contractions and waves of exquisite pleasure rocked Ella as her body clenched his, squeezing and extracting every drop as he convulsed and shuddered within her entwined limbs.
He exhaled in audible relief. “I needed that. God, it wasintense.” He suckled her shoulder, lifted himself off her, and rolled onto his back.
Ella lowered her twitching legs, the pleasure of afterglow flowing through her sated body. She smiled up at Jean-Luc’s shining eyes, glimmering in the moonlight.
He drew her into his open, welcoming arms. “Mon coeur,” he murmured, wrapping her up in a snug embrace and pulling her gently onto his chest. He kissed her hair and whispered softly. “Come… sleep upon my heart.”
Chapter 6
Enflammée
Early summer sunlight filtered through the arched window as Ella’s eyelids fluttered awake. The enticing aroma of fresh coffee filled the air as she stretched her long limbs across the bed, purring like a contented cat. In the kitchen, she glimpsed Jean-Luc’s naked torso, the scorpion tattoo with enormous pincers twirling up his broad back like the curved arms of a flamboyant flamenco dancer.
He'd set the countertop for breakfast, with fresh squeezed orange juice, twobols de café,and four pastries on a pretty platter nestled between two small plates in the same turquoise hue. “Pain au chocolat,”he grinned, gesturing to the flaky rolls. “My favorite.”
Ella stood up, stretched her arms overhead, and flashed Jean-Luc an appreciative smile. “It looks wonderful. I’ll be right back.” She quickly made the bed and slipped into the bathroom. A few minutes later, she emerged with a freshly scrubbed face, clean teeth, and brushed hair. After a quick deliberation, she decided to remain nude and slipped onto the barstool beside Jean-Luc.
Appreciation and desire dancing in his dark eyes, he swiveled her chair to face him, parting her knees with his own. Leaning forward to claim her lips, he growled in a ragged, husky voice. “You look good enough toeat.” He slid off his chair, moving it back a bit as he dropped to his knees between her open thighs. Pulling her to the edge of the seat, he feasted on her delicate folds. And— as she clutched the counter for balance, succumbing to his skilled lips and tongue—made Ella come in her chair.
“Best breakfast I’ve ever had,” he smirked, licking his lips for exaggerated effect. As he unzipped and removed his jeans, his erect cook sprang to life. Sitting onto the barstool, using the countertop for support against his back, he lifted Ella onto his lap. Straddled her over his muscular thighs. And, lifting her up and down as he plunged in deep, made her ride him like a galloping stallion.
