“You’re here,” she points out.
Phillipe chuckles sinfully before he gently bites her naked shoulder. “Yes, but I’ve been looking at your beautiful breasts for the past few hours, Gemma. So, what’s the problem? Is it her?”
Breathing a little harder, she asks, “Who?”
Phillipe lifts his head and licks her earlobe. “Her.”
I close my eyes, trying to remind myself thatsheis not really in the room with us.
“No, that’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” he asks.
He nips my lobe. I can feel my pussy clench every time he licks and flicks the soft skin of my ear.
“Yes. Why would I care that the paintings are here?” I ask, trying to convince myself as well as him.
He slides a hand down to my bare thigh then slowly between my legs, and I watch, mesmerized, as he gently tugs on one of my thighs. Like I’m a puppet on a string, my legs part until they are splayed wide on both sides of his.
As I lean my back against his front, resting my head against his shoulder, he slides his hand up my thigh until his fingers finally graze my soaked core.
“Oh, Gemma, you are very,verywet. Look.”
He inhales deeply and raises his fingers so I can see them glistening from just one touch between my thighs.
“So, what is it that has you so excited, Miss Harris?”
I moan at the formality he adds to my name, reminding me how inappropriate this relationship is. Returning his strong fingers to the warmth between my legs, he rubs against my swollen clit.
“Is it me?” he murmurs.
I push my hips up to him. I know he isn’t going to stop there.
When he pushes the tips of his fingers inside of me, he asks, “Is it her?”
I clamp my bottom lip between my teeth and moan loudly.
“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere.”
His other hand comes around me, and I watch as he cups my right breast. He squeezes and caresses it while slowly pushing his other fingers deeper into my aching body. I lean back against him, spreading my legs wider, completely aroused by the sight of the most erotic scene I have ever been a part of.
“Look at her, Gemma,” he instructs me.
I’m having a hard time tearing my eyes away from his hands on my needy body.
“Now, tell me what you feel. What do youfeelwhen you look at her?”
I close my eyes, trying to find some sort of anchor to hold me steady.
“Wake up, Gemma. Open your eyes.”
My heavy eyelids open, and I find myself staring at the image of Chantel inArmor.
“How do you feel?”
“Hot,” I answer softly.
“I can’t hear you. Louder,” he tells me while rubbing my hard nipple.
