She lifts her hand to my cheek, her bangles chiming softly, the sweetest music.
She’s layered in necklaces—not couture, not diamonds, but pieces chosen because she likes them. There’s a simplicity to her, a lightness, and already I regret that this will be the only time. Because I know nothing about her. And I amtheComte de Valois. I cannot simply fall into a relationship with a random woman. The tabloids would have a field day—and I will not put my parents through another scandal. They’re already disappointed because of the divorce.
My father doesn’t understand why I can’t take a mistress like every other man of my station.
“It’s the French thing to do,” he says.
But that isn’t who I am.
And a mistress, no matter how discreet, never stays hidden for long. In my world, secrets ripen into scandals. The revelation would upend both my life and hers.
A woman who could live with that kind of chaos isn’t one I want.
And the woman who would be destroyed by it…won’t want me. Not when cameras wait like wolves for the slightest crack in our armor, ready to devour our privacy.
“Hey, come back to me,” she urges as if she can see I have wandered off to a dark place, and she is the light.
“I’m here,” I assure her as I slide my hands up her thighs. I position myself between her legs. “Is this alright?”
“Yes, Gustave.”
Merde! The way she says my name! I’m ready to come right here and now.
She whimpers when I rub the head of my cock against her slick folds, teasing her and myself.
“You like that,ma chérie?” My voice is rough with lust.
She nods frantically, her hips bucking against me, desperate for more.
“Tell me,” I demand, my cock pressing against her entrance but not entering yet. “Tell me you want me.”
“I want you!” Her voice breaks on a sob.
I grip her hips as I drive into her in one smooth stroke.
Bliss floods me; a sense of rightness that I have never associated with sex.
Tara cries out, her nails digging into my shoulders. I move my hips, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back into her.
“Tu es vraiment serrée?*,” I growl as my thrusts deepen.
The pleasure is so intense it’s almost painful.
Her legs tighten around my waist, pulling me deeper still.
I fuck her harder, faster.
The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with our gasps and moans.
“Come for me again, Tara.” I need her to orgasm one more time. I need to feel her around me.
I’m a considerate lover, but even I don’t worry about trying to make a woman come twice. Once is good enough. But not with Tara.
I want her screaming.
I want her begging.
I want her panting.
