Page 24

Billionaires in Paris Cynthia Dane 2022/8/3 13:56:19

I’m still treading the abyss as he unties me and pulls off my blindfold. I’m so thankful for this subspace bullshit. I know it won’t last, but right now I feel so owned that having him wrap his arms around me and kiss me is a wonderful cherry on my sundae.

“I love you,” Ian says again and again. “I want to make you so happy.”

He says more romantic things as he explores the pinnacle of our union ?. Fingers dipping into me, forcing me to expel his seed on his hand and all over my thighs. It’s a sweet rush that forces me to acknowledge that I’m claimed by this man.

I’m sucking the fingers that taste like us when he asks, “Do I make you happy? Does this make you happy?”

My tongue pushes between his fingers, tasting both my essence and his. How could his not make me happy? I’m greedily licking up our wetness, for fuck’s sake! If he doesn’t watch it, I’m coming for his cock next!

“I’m happy,” I mutter. His arm holds me close to his chest, my nose nuzzling his collarbone. “I’ll be even happier if you let me spoil you now, sir.”

“Is that so?” He almost sounds intrigued.

My brain and body agree that I should spend the rest of the night kissing every inch of his body, tasting myself, him, and the love we created together. Rub his tired muscles. Let him see my curves again. Purr against his skin and into his mouth. Then I’ll coax him erect again, this time finishing the job in my mouth as he lets out a sound I’ve never heard him make before.

I only want to serve him. That is my happiness for the rest of the night.

It’s the perfect kind of morning. I’m falling in and out of sleep as the sun shines through our hotel room windows. The Eiffel Tower twinkles in the same sunlight, greeting me every time I open my eyes. Before I turn toward my boyfriend, anyway, who is fast asleep on the other side of the bed and lightly snoring. Enough to be cute, but not enough to drive me to insanity.

My body is relaxed and my mind calm. This is usually how I feel the day after an intense scene. There are still worries swimming in my brain, but what’s the point of thinking about them when I still have this lovely moment? I don’t really remember what happened after a certain point last night, but somehow I ended up in the shower and brushing my teeth. It’s all a great blur of being in Ian’s arms and experiencing him dressing me in one of his soft cotton T-shirts. He’s wearing one too. There’s no stopping me from curling up next to him and pretending that this moment is going to last forever.

The most obnoxious ringtone in the universe pounds in my head. My eyes flutter open, hand on forehead and Ian stirring beneath me. He grumbles at me to deal with my phone.

I know why I’m avoiding it. Doesn’t have to do with the fact it’s seven in the morning and I’m on vacation. Or that I’m still reveling in my sexual high from last night. No, it has to do with knowing whose ringtone that is. There are a few people in my life who have their own ringtones so I know exactly who is calling long before I pick up my phone. Ian, of course. Then my father. Then my assistant Anita. Ian’s mother Caroline is on the short list as well.

Then there’s Eva, my best friend, and also biggest pain in my ass when Ian is being an angel.

“What. The. Fuck.” I sound like I smoke fifty packs of cigarettes a day. “Do you know what time it is here? This had better be good.”

“I can do math, thanks.” Eva, likewise, sounds groggy enough to smoke some cigarettes too. It’s late at night back home and she’s finishing up grad school. She’s going to sound like hell come midnight. “Plus, I’m the last person you should be grilling. Guess what, buttercup, I called up to grill you! How the fuck am I the last person on this planet to know that you’re engaged?”

I’m awake now. Damn fucking hell am I awake!

“We had a pact, Kathryn! The moment you get engaged or elope in Vegas again, I’m the first to know. Not half of New England as of seven this evening.”

“What are you talking about?” The covers fly back on the bed. Of course I’m not wearing underwear. Why would I be wearing anything but my boyfriend’s shirt? I love it when cold morning air smacks my pussy raw. Not to mention this cold as ice floor and my bare feet. Great. Where are my dang socks?

Eva makes a terrifying sound back in America. “Are you not up yet? Am I the first person to call you? How has your father not blown up your phone? I know you didn’t tell him before telling me!”

“Damnit, Eva!” I look around the room for something to check the internet on. Where the fuck is my tablet? Did Ian bring his netbook? Wait, right, Ian. He’s got a phone around here somewhere…