“Fuck, you feel too good,” he breathes, jolting my hips back against him.
The deeper intrusion sends liquid fire through my veins, and I’m sure we’re going to catch ourselves a noise complaint within the first ten minutes of being in this suite. Dom is louder now, moaning and saying my name, like a possessive prayer as he claims my body. One of his hands strays around my hip to stroke my clit, helping me along as my orgasm builds.
But when I do come, the intensity blindsides me. I scream, fingers clawing into the couch, Dom’s arm wrapped around my waist to hold him to me as his own orgasm fills me up.
“Oh fuck,” he mutters, trying to catch his breath. “Fucking hell, Mia.”
I slump over the couch, shuddering as shock after sweet shock ricochets through my body. I clench my lips together, revelling in the feeling of each clench of my cunt clamping down on him, again and again.
He strokes my back with his fingertips, then my sides, moving around to my breasts. His thumbs graze my nipples, and just that touch has me aching to do it all over again.
But for now, Dom is more interested in aftercare.
And that’s how I find myself in the oversized tub, surrounded by bubbles, lying back against Dom’s broad chest. I sigh happily, gazing out the window at the fading light as the sun sets over the rooftops of Paris.
“This is lovely,” I murmur, and Dom presses a kiss to my temple.
“Shame we can’t just stay here all night.” He gently presses his fingertips into the base of my scalp, massaging my neck, and he chuckles when I moan.
“That feels amazing. You really are a man of many talents.” I sigh as his fingers dig in deeper. “You can cook, you can massage, you fuck like a god.”
“Like a god?” He asks with a laugh. “No one’s ever said that before.”
“Oh shut up, they have.”
“They haven’t, but thank you for the compliment.” He wraps his arms around my waist, pressing me to him, and kisses my shoulder.
I lean my head back against him. “I feel like we should talk.”
“About what?” He asks, continuing to plant soft kisses on my shoulder.
“Everything.” I suddenly don’t know what to talk about. I’m struck by how much there is to say, and at the same time, how little. “Us. How this goes on.”
“There’s time for that.” Dom nuzzles into the crook of my neck. “Right now, we have to ride this out, love.”
I turn so he lifts his head and looks at me. “So, we just keep this going, like this? Quietly?”
“I think that’s best. Then once you’re out of the whole mess with Archie, we can start being more public.”
My lips twitch into a smile. “So you do want to be with me then?”
Dom cocks an eyebrow. “Listen here, if I left you in any doubt of just how much I want to be with you, then maybe I’m not the god of sex you claim me to be. I thought I made itveryobvious.” He cups my jaw and pulls my face to his, kissing me deeply. “Yes, I want to be with you. I want to hang off this balcony right now and tell all of Paris that I’m here with you and that-” He stops himself, taking a sharp breath.
“And that what?” I ask, my heart suddenly thumping in my ribcage.
He kisses my forehead and gives me a smile. “And that I feel so lucky to be here with you.”
I can sense what he almost said, but I don’t push it because it’s too soon for that anyway. He knows that, no doubt it’s why he stopped himself. And maybe it’s better this way, to have to keep this quiet, to let the relationship develop away from the public eye.
Yes, maybe that’s exactly what we need.
24
DOMINIC
Mia worethis dress to torture me, and I cannot be convinced otherwise. It’s a long, red strapless gown, with a split that runs all the way up her thigh. The tattoos on her arms almost look like lace, and all I can think of is kissing every single one when we get back to the room. She wears her hair in soft curls hanging down her back, and gold earrings dangle from her ears. In sky-high heels, her legs appear impossibly long.
“You look incredible,” I tell her as I help her into a black coat.
