“Yes, she used her hands to teach me, to know me, and to learn what I liked.” He moans as he flexes his hips, pushing himself into my palm.
I can feel my breasts sway as he shifts, and I move with him. Stroking his tight, hot flesh, I watch as he sucks in a deep breath.
“She was a very lucky woman,” I murmur as I rock my wet, aching pussy against him. “She had a true work of art to touch.”
He bites his lip hard while he pushes and pulls his shaft into and then out of my palm.
“Shewas the work of art,” he corrects me, eyes locked with mine.
Before I know what I’m saying, it comes out of my mouth, “I bet when you two fucked, it was sexy as hell. I would have liked to watch that.”
“Fuck.” He groans, shifting his hips, and begins fucking my palm violently. He wraps his fingers around mine, forming a tight fist. “Put me inside of you, Gemma. I want to watch your face as you slide down onto my cock.”
I can’t do anything at this moment but obey him.
Lifting myself up onto my knees, I lower my soaked core down onto his wide, thick tip. He sinks deep inside me, inch after delicious hard inch.
When I’m fully seated with my ass on his thighs, he gently touches my clit.
“When I was inside of her, nothing else existed,” he confesses.
He surprises me when he sits up and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling my hips and pelvis harder to him. As he slides in deeper, he nuzzles my neck. “And when I’m inside of you,she’sstarting not to exist.” He groans as he turns, laying me on the bed.
He braces his arms on both sides of me, his devastated eyes meeting mine, and I can’t help but think he is punishing us with every furious stroke.
“I can’t fucking resist you. I keep trying. God help me, but I can’t stop myself.”
Closing my eyes, I grip his bulging biceps as he thrusts into me time and time again, searching for that elusive edge while chasing a fading ghost. I’m left wondering just how far away from his heart he will let her go.
Seventeen
MINE
“I DREAMED ABOUT you last night,” Chantel whispered across his cheek.
He could feel those talented fingers of hers stroking his hair. “Was it a good dream?”
“Hmm,” she murmured absently, and started to hum a melody.
“What is that?” he asked as he rolled her over to lie on top of him, watching as her soft raven hair fell down to conceal them from the outside world.
“Air by Bach.”
He closed his eyes and listened. When she finished humming, she kissed his mouth gently. He opened his eyes while running his hand up her naked spine.
“It’s beautiful. What made you think of it this morning?”
“It was playing in my dream. You were there, and we were lying in the sun, letting it warm our skin.”
He ran his hands down to her ass and cupped it gently. “Strange dream.”
“But peaceful.”
Phillipe runs his palm through his hair as Gemma lies with her ear to his chest. He slipped out of her body only minutes earlier, and now, he feels himself slipping from the reality of the moment. As he lies on his back, staring at the ceiling, he can hearAirbeing hummed in his ear, and in his arms, he is imagining a woman he can no longer touch.
“Do you always think about her?” Gemma asks, tearing him from his illusion.
“Yes,” he replies stoically.
