24
MIKAIL
Fucking Paris.
It offered me a glimpse into the life I could have, and I don’t know if I want to erase this city from the face of the earth or raise a statue in its honor.
I haven’t just lost my mind. My need for this woman shattered it completely. Like a thief, I want to steal a few more moments with her, undisturbed, and give in to my desires. Shamelessly.
But damn, between the talks, laughter, fucking, and exploring this city, I’ve felt alive like never before. Happy. Content.
We spent our days discovering Paris on foot and shopping. I don’t even know if all the stuff can fit in the jet’s cargo. Dozens of bags of shoes, purses, clothes, and perfumes lay scattered in the suite’s living room waiting for the hotel staff to carry them out.
I rented a van so the driver could bring them to the jet.
“I’ll miss Paris and the Eiffel Tower. It just has something,” she whispers by the window, engrossed in the view.
I lock my arms around her belly and place my chin on her shoulder. Every moment I don’t touch her only deepensmy obsession. For the sake of my mental health, every waking moment I must have my hands, lips, or cock in her.
She giggles, enjoying my inability to stay away, because she loves to drive me insane. She roped me in, thrust the lance in my soul and anchored me to her.
“I’ll build you one back home,” I promise.
She turns in my arms, slapping my chest playfully and shaking her head at me with a radiant smile. “You would.”
What can I say? When it comes to her, I can’t stop myself from giving her everything she desires.
Interlinking our hands, I walk her out while she looks over her shoulder one last time, the melancholic look twisting my heart.
It takes everything in me not to reveal the surprise. Instead, I kiss her, and that redirects her attention. I get drunk on the power I have over her, making me feel on top of the world.
Inside the car, she leans her cheek against my shoulder while I brush my arm up and down her side.
Dahlia notices that the ride to the airport takes longer than expected. She sits up straighter, watching as the landscape changes to lush green.
“Where are we going?” she murmurs just in time for Versailles to open in front of us in all its splendor.
I rented the palace for a night, and she blinks, staring dumbfounded from me back to the palace.
I don’t even know why it keeps surprising her when I live to spoil her.
“It’s Versailles. Oh, my God.” She squeals.
“Don’t give him credit,” I grumble.
She pats her chest in fake apology. “How dare I?” She nudges me. “Wanting to feel like a king?”
Cupping the back of her neck, I bring her mouth an inch apart from mine. “No, want to make you feel like a queen while I fuck you like my mistress.”
A shiver runs down her spine, inflating my ego. She turns into mush when I have my hands on her. I’ve taken her so many times, yet my depravity knows no bounds. The more she likes me dominating her, the more I love how beautifully she submits to my incessant lust.
Tilting her head, she bats her lashes at me. “I can fill both roles.”
“Of course you do,” I groan low in my throat. “My woman.”
The air inside the car turns combustible with desire.
Her eyes spark, lighting the match. “Your good girl.”
