by Kenya Wright
That was another reason why I sat in my room. Jean-Pierre’s confession had made it clear about where my aunt stood on him and I being together. She didn’t want it to happen, so much that she’d called in numerous amounts of favors with powerful people to keep him away.
If I just go to Jean-Pierre with open arms, it will break her heart. Only God knew what she did to fight against Jean-Pierre.
But I hadn’t asked her to do it. She’d been trying to protect me. Was I now forced to live my life according to her wishes because she’d fought a war that I’d never asked to happen?
Why does this have to be so fucking complicated? I don’t want to walk away from either. I don’t even want this to be my reality.
At least with the girlfriend experience, I knew exactly where everyone stood in the situation. Now I’d been thrown into a new world. No wonder his staff and men had treated me like the lady of the manor. They all knew about his obsession.
I was the only idiot walking around and going about my day with no clue.
I sat at the window as the sun rose higher in the sky. Fear gathered along my shoulders. I was scared shitless and unable to move. My phone sat silent in my lap. Aunt Celina hadn’t responded to any of my calls. Shalimar’s phone was still off. Leo hadn’t even answered his phone.
“For three years, you’ve been my obsession.”
A small scraping sound distracted me from my thoughts.
I checked where the noise came from and rose. By the door, a long red envelope lay in front of the door.
Did he slip it under?
I hurried over and opened the door.
No one stood on the outside, but a large box half my size sat on the floor. A large white label covered it. My name was written on it.
I ducked my head out, didn’t see anyone in the hallway, and brought the package in.
A present? Jean-Pierre. . .you’re not helping.
I’d taken time to myself because I knew that being around him would keep me in his corner. My aunt loved me. She was wise and had helped raise me. I had to at least get her side of things.
But, where is she? Is everything okay? Has she gotten herself into trouble over this whole thing? Unnecessary trouble!
I dragged the package inside and dropped it on the bed.
The door slammed behind me.
Jean-Pierre had no limit to spoiling me. I knew that whatever lay in the box would be elegant and priceless.
The letter was what had me the most intrigued.
What’s on his mind? What the has he been thinking for these past three days?
Curious, I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the folded card. Jean-Pierre’s perfect script covered it.
Eden,
I want to see you. Can we take a break from our break and spend the evening together? Either way, I’ll respect your wishes.
If you say yes, then please wear the gown in the box and meet me in room 644 in an hour.
If you say no, then know I am thinking about you and understand.
Jean-Pierre
What other answer could I give him, but yes? He’d been patient and calm as he waited for my thoughts on us. While he shouldn’t have gotten points for finally being honest, he had been, and that mattered.
And I miss him. I miss his scent. The feel of his skin. His hard body. I miss him.
I checked my phone.
Aunt Celina still had not called.
Sighing, I walked off to the big box on the bed, yanked off the top, and pulled out the tissue paper. “Wow.”
I lifted a stunning gown out of the box. It was all lace. A large oval had been cut out the back and would expose most of my violin tattoo. I took the gown out and brought it over to the mirror near the window.
The gown fell to the floor. Out of all the clothes he’d bought me, this was the most sexy and elegant. The soft lace smoothed against my fingertips.
I studied myself in the mirror, knowing that I’d walked away from any decision I’d made earlier. I’d spent three days away from Jean-Pierre, thinking about what to do. I’d come up with nothing, but more questions and no answers.
My world is not what I thought it was, but I’m in Paris and I’m alive, and someone wants me so bad. . .they’ll go to war. That’s something.
What would it be like to surrender to Jean-Pierre? To give in to his obsession? Hadn’t I already been falling for him? Hadn’t I wanted this to be so real I could wrap it around my heart and never be alone or cold in this world again?
I’d gotten what I’d yearned for. Granted, it had come to be times ten and with a whole lot of violence and pettiness.
Daddy said to watch out for Aunt Celina, and I didn’t believe him. Who would believe a man that’s building a fake church?
My aunt was crazy. My dad was crazy.
Why am I sitting in Paris trying not to be crazy?
The more I stood in the mirror the dumber I felt.
So, it was fine for him to think I was a whore and pay me to fuck him, but a little three year war and I run away in shock?
I laughed at myself. It was one of delirium. At this point, I didn’t know if I was making any sense to myself. I’d surely talked to myself long enough for these past three days.
It was time to leave the suite.
And I’d gone too long without seeing Jean-Pierre.
Fuck it. I’m crazy. I’m getting dressed and going downstairs. And he is called The Butcher, and is in fact, someone who has killed. . .wait. . .why am I going up again?
I blinked and let out a long breath.
I’m going. That’s it. Don’t think about anything else.
I spent the rest of the time getting dressed. I hadn’t showered in three days. I was sure my body appreciated it. My nerves flared on edge while I got ready. My hands shook as I curled my hair and did my makeup.
When I finished, I had to force myself to leave the room.
Somehow, I was more nervous now than ever before.
These moments together would be real.
There was no pretending.
We would be together and trying to build toward something.
Where did he see this going?
We had to talk. I still had no idea what I wanted to do and where I would live. My old apartment was out of the question. And the money from Jean-Pierre had given me the opportunity to move where I wanted to. My visit to Paris had shown that I really hadn’t lived.
It was time to get out and travel. See the world. Experience Europe and other places.
But where will I go? And what will that mean for Jean-Pierre and me?
When he’d brought up the extension, he’d said that we could live anywhere as I searched.
I could do that.
I took my time getting to the room that he’d put on the invitation. The walk down the hallway and elevator ride had put me on edge. I tapped my foot several times, telling myself that everything would be okay and that I was doing the right thing.
When I left the elevator, I stepped into the hall.
Jean-Pierre stood there waiting, hands in his pockets, leaning one shoulder against the wall. His gaze found me. Heat spread along my flesh like wildfire.
“Thank you, Eden.” Jean-Pierre’s deep voice spread across my body just like the heat. Rough and sexy. This was why I needed those three days away from him to think. Around him, there would be no doubt that I yearned for him. “Tu m'as tellement manqué.”
“I missed you too, Jean-Pierre.”
He moved, pushing off the wall and then he was in front of me. Only an inch lay between us. He licked his lips. “Did you miss me?”
“Yes.”
My whole body came alive, knowing that he was going to touch me.
An electric thrill raced through me.
He was too close. My mind couldn’t process all the emotions spinning like a tornado in my head.
“Eden. Eden,” he said my name in a breathy whisper. He drank me in and ran his gaze all over my body. “Do you
have any questions, or do you not want to talk about it? We can just eat.”
“I have one question.”
“Yes?”
“Why me? It couldn’t have only been the playing. And it wasn’t the onesie.”
“Clearly, you haven’t seen what you looked like in a onesie. It’s very sexy.”
“I’m serious, Jean-Pierre.” I looked into his eyes, trying to understand what would make a man with all of his power go for someone like me.
“Eden, there should be no question to why I’m obsessed over you. It’s because you’re Eden, and no one else can be you.” He pulled me into his arms. “You’re a remarkable woman. Beautiful. Talented.”
He cupped my cheek. “But that still doesn’t explain why I’m obsessed. You were brighter than the sun. The moon in the sky. And I was so dark. Shattered. You’re a gift. One that I want to unwrap every day.”
All I could whisper was, “Jean-Pierre.”
And then he kissed me. Consuming my soul and drawing me deeper into him. After his confession, his kisses had grown more passionate. My heart boomed at the thought, even if I couldn’t fully understand it. He did something to me, and I did something to him. And these next days would be us figuring out what that was, and if it was enough.
Needing him so bad, I gently pulled at his hair.
Jean-Pierre broke our kiss, hit me with an intense gaze, and then he buried his face in my hair. “I’m sorry, Eden. If I could go back, I would try and do something differently. I at least would’ve never gone into your apartment.”
I leaned back. “My mother used to always say, ‘Hindsight is 20/20.’ It’s always easy to say what we wouldn’t have done, once we’ve done it.”
“Still.” He landed a kiss on the curve of my neck. “I don’t want to lose you, not when we’re just getting to know each other.”
“I still want to get to know you, Jean-Pierre. I’m just trying to figure out how we will do it.”
“Then, take your time.”
And there, Jean-Pierre and I remained for several minutes. Locked in each other’s arms. The silence of the hallway surrounded us. I didn’t know what ran through his mind, but I was happy to be in his hold.
From his confession, my life felt like it was slipping and falling away from me. His embrace held me together for those few moments.
Jean-Pierre moved away a little and kissed me again. This time he caressed my back, drawing circles along my back as if he was playing me. “Serez-vous à moi?”
He slipped his fingers higher, tangling them in my hair and tugging my head back. “Je ne sais pas si je peux t'éloigner de toi.”
I leaned away and translated what he’d said, “You don’t know if you can let me go?”
“I don’t.”
Our gazes locked. Fire blazed from his.
“Again, I want to be as honest as possible.” He tugged my head back some more and lapped at the curve of my neck. The sensual attention gave me no time to process his statement. “I’m going to fight to be with you, Eden.”
A shiver ran up my spine.
My body continued to heat for him.
He devoured me, and all I could do was let him. If there’d ever been a part of me that was having second thoughts or cold to him, it was now warm. He’d melted it away.
We stood in the hallway, and I was lost in him. We could’ve been in Belladonna or the Eiffel Tower and it wouldn’t have mattered. I let go. Of my fears. My questions. My inhibitions.
“Let’s try this,” I whispered. “I… can’t walk away from you either, Jean-Pierre. Although I don’t have the power like you to make me stay, I…would do everything to keep you around. Even though I’m still confused about everything. Even though I’m still. . .scared of who you are.”
“I would keep it away from you.”
“Still…let’s try.”
“I’ll take it.” He kissed me hard, swallowing down any response I could’ve came up with. And then in a rush, he lifted me up into his arms, opened the door, and carried me in. “Are you hungry?”
“No. I want you.”
He groaned as he rushed pass a beautifully decorated table. Staff jumped out of his way. A few had been lighting candles near the buffet table.
Jean-Pierre didn’t pause or say anything to anyone.
We got to his room and stood outside the door.
He let me down. “Hmmm.”
“What?”
“I didn’t think you were coming into this room tonight.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wasn’t sure you were coming to dinner, and this room. . .has something in it that I’d planned long ago.”
I stared at the closed door. “What’s in there?”
“When you were in Belladonna and I was dealing with things, I kept imagining you in this contraption.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What sort of contraption?”
He opened the door.
I walked inside.
It was a big room which I expected with Jean-Pierre. But in the center of the space, a large swing dangled from the ceiling. Long cords had been attached to it and the ceiling.
Shocked, I walked up to it. The swing stopped above my navel. If I climbed into it, I would be at his waist.
Jean-Pierre got behind me and pressed his hard cock against my behind. “I was supposed to bring you in here, after the Louvre.”
“But then you decided to confess.”
“And ruined everything.”
“Or saved it all. Although my life has exploded, I’m happy that you told me. I feel more confident about. . .us.”
“I like that you said us.”
“Me too.”
I studied the swing. It was clear how he’d wanted me positioned. There were bandages to hold up my arms and legs. I stepped toward it and slid my hands along each strap. Silk coated some durable material within.
I tugged at the cords and felt no resistance. Whoever had put it up had made sure that the swing would not go down, if used. A long pad lay in the center for where the middle section of my body would lay as I hung in mid-air, open to Jean-Pierre.
“This is how you wanted me that night?” I whispered and turned to him.
“This was one of the ways I wanted you that night.”
It was a simple answer, but it made my body explode even more.
You make me crazy for you, Jean-Pierre.
I gripped his shirt more confident than I’d ever been with him. He’d fought a war and won me. I didn’t know what Aunt Celina would have to say about it or even Shalimar. All I cared about was how I felt. And in this moment, all I could do was grab hold to him and hope he never left my grip.
“Let’s try it.” I pressed my breasts against him.
He groaned. “I’ve thought about the way I would make you come in this swing.”
The space between my thighs awakened. My arousal moistened my panties. My nipples stiffened. I yanked his shirt out of his pants. “Show me.”
He unbuttoned his shirt. I roamed my hands along his muscled waist and then slipped along his wide back. My body craved him. I almost slapped myself for taking three days to see him. At this point, I felt starved.
My senses had gone hypersensitive. My body craved his touch.
He tore off his shirt and then undid his pants. The whole time he kissed me. His tongue slipped against mine. Hungry. Urgent. Claiming. My muscles melted into liquid pleasure.
With no patience, he wrenched at my dress.
I let go of him and tried to grab my zipper behind me.
He swatted my hands and took control. My gown dropped seconds later. The next moment, he had me up in the swing, lifting me up with those strong arms. His muscles flexed with the movement.
With ease, he flipped me over and had my ass in the air.
Giggling, I shrieked as he helped me up into the swing. “Oh my God. Don’t drop me.”
Hours ago, I’d been sitting in my suite, trying to ponder my life like a proper ad
ult. Hours later, I was butt naked and being propped into a swing, so Jean-Pierre could fuck my brains out.
Great job, Eden. Those three days really meant something.
I’d been playing myself, if I thought I would walk away from him. He might’ve done things within the shadows. But every moment that I’d actually experienced with him had been amazing and full of passion and pleasure.
While it would be hard to swallow the past events in these next days, I had no regrets going back to Jean-Pierre.
Soon I dangled in the air. My ass was up, and right in a perfect position for Jean-Pierre to fill me with his cock . My body shivered at the thought. Each arm lay in a strap as my center rested on a pad under my chest and stomach.
Jean-Pierre gripped my hips and smoothed his hands over my ass. French spilled out of his lips. I couldn’t even catch one word.
“Jean-Pierre, what are you saying?”
“You don’t need to know what I’m saying.” He gave my ass a soft smack. The flesh jiggled. He groaned, “Sirène.”
He had me at his complete disposal. He could move me up and down and all around. I moaned with the image.
“What are you thinking about, Eden?” He slipped his hand along my ass and then slid them down to my pussy. “Did you think about me these past days?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He pushed his fingers inside of me.
I moaned, “Jean-Pierre.”
“Did you think of my fingers?” He dipped his skilled finger in and out, blowing my mind and delivering shivers through my frame. “Did you think of my cock?”
“God, yes.”
Lust coated his voice. “What do you want, mon amour?”
“You. Your cock. All night long.”
“Hmmm.” Jean-Pierre thrust into me so slow, I groaned and curled my toes.
I wished I could grab onto him and dig my nails in his flesh. Hold him to me. Grip his body to mine. I never wanted him away from me again.
He slipped out of my pussy, and I was close to begging for its return. And then he came back again, sliding that thick cock back into me. Owning me. Dominating me. Showing me who owned my pussy. Surely it wasn’t me. She’d come alive for him. With him, she sang. With him, she got so wet, that even I was shocked.
“Cette chatte est à moi. Ce sera toujours le mien. Juste comme ton coeur.”
