The Ambassador and Me: an unlikely love story (The Ambassador Trilogy Book 1)
Page 12
I wanted him more when I saw this. I wanted him so badly it hurt. I sat up and brought him to me. I looked up and kissed his tears away that were trailing down the sides of his eyes. He needed to know that he was perfect and I wanted him no matter what.
“Let me make love to you tonight,” I whispered.
“Isabella.”
“It’s me, Fabrice.”
Something softened as I rolled over and climbed on top of him. I kissed his neck and across his chest. I kissed every scar as I lingered over each one. He was more beautiful to me than ever. His hands went to my hair and he grabbed on to it as I made my way kissing him down his stomach. I was starved for him. The excitement and thrill of taking control and making him mine was too much. My eyes took in all of him.
His thighs were thick, covered in muscles and a spattering of dark hair. His calves were huge and his feet were perfect and manly. I didn’t speak as he caressed my head and I kissed him all over his beautiful body. My fingertips touched his skin as I made my way back up. He was hard and I noticed a drop on the tip of his thick cock. I wanted so much of him. I licked it as he moaned. It was then that I took him in my mouth, knowing I was making love to such a powerful man as he lay there, ashamed of his perfect body.
He let me do what I wanted and didn’t protest. His hands pulled on my hair as he groaned. I wanted to devour all of him, but I was becoming increasingly wet and needed to have him inside me. His body must have sensed what I needed as I climbed up and straddled him. With little effort, I sat on him and took all of him inside me. Like the time we were in his office, it was intense. Reaching up, he grabbed my head and pulled me down to him. His mouth devoured mine as I moved up and down his shaft. The sound of my desire for him was evident and made us even hungrier for each other.
“Isabella.” The sound of his raspy French voice, the slap of my ass against his thighs, and the way he possessed me made me even wetter. I was out of mind with passion and love for him. I could feel the orgasm coming up. I looked down at him and his eyes were open. They looked different. I knew what it was.
I came with a force I had not had before. My cunt spasmed and tightened and it was at that moment Fabrice climaxed as he held on to me. His warm cum shot inside me as I held onto him, and he lifted his hips to pump me deeper.
I collapsed on top of him and we were both out of breath, sweaty and spent. I savored in the fact that my naked breasts were pushed up against his chest for the first time. I couldn’t get close enough to him. My fingertips brushed a scar as I settled in his arms. Once we caught our breath, I wanted to talk.
“Is this why you didn’t take off your clothes?”
“Yes, Isabella. I was ashamed. I couldn’t let you to see my scars and not touch me. I also love to be in control in the bedroom. I love to give pleasure and watch. The best way to get to know what a woman wants is to focus on her.”
“What happened to you?” I stayed on his chest.
“It’s a long sob story. Do you want to hear about it?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”
He hesitated and I could hear his heart beating loudly as I lay on his chest.
“I was part of the French Special Forces. I went in right out of college. My parents insisted I continue my education and I did as fast as I could. I wanted to be a soldier. That is what my brother had done, and I wanted to do the same. Once I finished college, I went into the military and became a commander of the Special Forces by the time I was twenty-five.”
“My first assignment was to rescue two French government officials held hostage by a terror group in Syria. We were successful in freeing them and bringing them home but with a price to pay. As I was making sure all my men were accounted for, a grenade was launched at one of the helicopters waiting to take us out of there. I had no idea where it came from because we killed all the hostage-takers. The helicopter was empty except for the pilot. I was headed toward it as I was bringing out one of the last men. The helicopter blew up and I could not run fast enough carrying the hostage. We were covered in fire. I somehow was able to put it out on him and myself, but it burned through my gear and burned my chest.”
“Third degree burns, and I spent months in the hospital getting very painful skin grafts. The hostage wasn’t burned as badly because I threw myself on top of him. The woman I was dating at the time couldn’t take it. She left me while I was in the hospital. I guess that is why I’m so ashamed. I was afraid of you seeing the real me under my suit. I’m pretty damn good looking until I take off the suit.”
I couldn’t stop the tears running down my cheeks and onto his chest.
“Isabella, why are you crying?”
“I don’t know. It’s sad. How can anyone say you’re ugly? Those scars are badges of honor. You saved a man’s life. You are so brave and good.” I was in a full-out cry now as I tried to talk.
“My sweet girl. Don’t cry. You now know and it’s all good. These scars brought me to you.”
“Yes, they did. I’m glad that bitch left you. If she hadn’t we probably wouldn’t had been together.”
“That’s true. I should send her a thank you card.” We both laughed.
“Will you take off your clothes from now on?” I asked.
“Well, I like to dominate a woman in bed. Not out of bed. I feel a woman should be her own person and think for herself. I find it very sexual to leave my clothes on and the woman is naked. I have power to give her pleasure and focus on her. I love that. That will not change, Isabella. I hope that you are okay with that.”
“I love it. I love what you do to me. I sometimes just need to make love. Sometimes I need to feel you naked, close to me.”
“I can give you that, but not all the time. For me, sex with you is pure and perfect no matter what form it takes. You are my main focus. To give you pleasure and watch you come is better to me than having my own orgasm. However, I love coming inside you and inside your mouth. You are an amazing, sensual woman. Sometimes it is hard for me to resist not coming.”
“How do you do that? I haven’t been with a man that’s solely into getting me off and not getting off himself.”
“I’ve been taught by an older woman at eighteen.”
I looked up at him.
“Seriously?” Good Lord. How much older was my next question, but he started talking again.
“Yes. My parents were wealthy. My father owned several businesses in Paris. He made suits and became one of the most sought after tailors in Paris. My grandfather started the business and was taught a lot about fashion and tailoring by Coco Chanel. My mother was, what you call in America, a socialite. She was born into money. So, I had a very wonderful childhood filled with vacations, parties, and meeting rich people. At one of these parties I attended with my family, I met an intriguing older woman.
I had to ask. “How much older?”
“Well, she was my mother’s age but kept herself in amazing shape. What do you call them in America?”
“That would be a 'cougar' or a 'pervert'.”
“Yes, cougar. She enticed me to have sex with her at this party. It was pure sex in a room in this huge mansion. It was my first time. I was of course head over heels with this woman after that. She wanted to see me again. What eighteen year old boy would say no to that? I would go to her house after school and she taught me how to tie her up and how to hold back from coming to give her pleasure. I learned all of that from this woman.”
“What happened to her?” I was so relaxed in his arms. Lying with him and just talking was wonderful.
“I went to college and didn’t see her again. I didn’t look for her so I don’t know. She would be in her seventies now.” I wondered how many other boys she taught that to.
“Did your mom or dad ever find out you were up to this?”
“No, I kept our time together a secret. No one knew.”
“Have you ever taken it any further, like flogging or pain?” I hoped not because that wasn’t happening with me
.
“No, I don’t like that. A woman should be treated like a fine piece of art. You should not inflict pain on her for your own pleasure. I like to dominate to heighten the arousal. I do a pretty good job with it. Have you ever done anything like this before, Isabella?”
“No, I have not. You were the first. I have to say, I was the aggressor in most of my relationships. I haven’t had too many, but I always liked to be on top and be in control. Now, I like this with you. Have you ever been dominated?”
“I have not. I would not mind it once in a while, but no one has tried it.”
“I may have to come up with something.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t already,” he laughed.
We lay in his bed and talked for a while until sleep took over. I woke up in the middle of the night forgetting where I was. I had vowed not to spend the night at any man’s house, but this was somehow different. I put my head on his chest as his heartbeat soothed me to sleep like a lullaby. He held me tight to him and I didn’t want to leave.
That night was the night I fell in love with Fabrice Arbidoux. I didn’t tell him this. It was too soon. In my heart, I was in love. This man was so much a part of me and still so secretive. There was still so much he needed to tell me. I shouldn’t push him. Not now. Who was I to demand he tell me everything? I still carried a big secret with me. I had not been completely honest with my story about Anthony. There was still a lot more that I left out. I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it. Not yet.
Chapter 11
“Danny, I have to talk to you, alone,” I whispered to him as he chopped scallions for the night’s dinner entrée. Danny was a great big brother, and whenever I needed him he would go to the ends of the earth to help me out. Since Marco’s temper took over his rational thinking most times, I didn’t want to tell him for fear he would go off the deep end immediately.
“Start talking.” He didn’t take his eyes from what he was doing. I needed his undivided attention and I needed to be out of the kitchen.
“Can we go somewhere else to talk?” I grabbed a cup of espresso and pointed to the back door to the employee parking. Mom and Dad were not there and it was a good chance to get him alone without them suspecting anything.
Danny wiped his hands on his apron and grabbed a coffee too. Once we stepped outside, I knew I didn’t have much time to talk so I started. He stopped me.
“Before you start, please tell me you aren’t pregnant, because I will need more than coffee.”
“Danny, fuck you. No, I’m not pregnant. This is serious.”
“I’m being serious.”
“I wouldn’t be bothering you with this if it was not for real.”
“I know, Izzy. Talk.” He sipped his coffee and sat on the corner of the cement outside. I continued to stand.
“You know how Anthony was here last week at the house?”
“Yeah, I was there. Is he bothering you?”
“Yes, he’s sat outside my condo all night. He tried to break in last week and scared Avery to death. I was at work but she was in the shower. Lord knows what he could have done to her. I thought I could handle him, but I’m terrified. He... there’s something else that no one knows but Avery.”
“What, Izzy? Tell me what.”
I looked at the ground. I didn’t know what would happen.
“The night I broke up with him he came over to the condo. He was crying and begging me to come in. I let him in. Avery was home, but sleeping.” The tears started and I couldn’t stop them. They welled up in my eyes and dripped down my cheeks.
“Tell me, Izzy. What did he do to you?”
“Danny, I can’t tell you.”
“Jesus, Izzy.”
“I was scared and I had to get him out of the house. He was drinking and he had this crazy look in his eyes. I. You have to know how hard this is to tell you.”
Danny stood up, came close to me, and took me in his arms.
I was crying harder. All the feelings that were held back for so many months was coming out now.
“Tell me what he did, Izzy.”
“He was insisting I sleep with him one last time. I kept telling him no and he wouldn’t listen. He forced himself on me and wanted to try to choke me. I tried to push him off me but he was so much stronger. He had his hands squeezing my neck so tight I couldn’t get away. I began to lose consciousness. He thought it was funny. I remember this crazy look in his eyes as he smiled at me, squeezing my neck.”
“The way I stopped him from killing me was kicking him in his balls. He let go of my neck as he grabbed his balls. I went to get a knife from the kitchen and told him I would cut his dick off if he didn’t leave. I don’t know why or how but he left. Avery came in and I told her what happened. That was the week you didn’t see me because I said I had the flu. I couldn’t let you see the bruises on my neck.”
Danny held me tighter as I cried. Thankfully, no one bothered us and I was able to tell him everything, well almost.
“Something has to be done now. I’m going to fucking rip his balls off and shove them up his ass, then pull them out, and make him eat them.”
“Danny, stop that.”
“You can’t live in fear of him.”
“There is one more thing, Danny.”
“What, Izzy? Holy fuck! Tell me everything while it’s you and I.”
“I’m sort of seeing the Ambassador. He came over the other night and the next day I had flowers waiting for me at my office. I thought they were from Fabrice, that’s his name, and it was from Anthony. Here is the card that came with them.” I handed him the white card that was included with the flowers. He took it and read it and then slapped it against his hand and looked off.
“Something has to be done, Izzy. Right now, not tomorrow. You should have told me about this asshole sooner. This Ambassador is French?”
“Yes, he’s the French Ambassador, Danny. No one knows but Avery. I have to keep it that way. About Anthony, should I call the police? Would you go to the police station with me?”
“The police aren’t going to do shit to protect you from him. They will slap a restraining order on him and he will get pissed off. It will be your word against his. He will get more pissed off and then do something worse. Let me handle this.”
“Please don’t do something bad, Danny. He could hurt you.”
“He doesn’t have the balls to hurt me. Let me handle him, okay? Keep doing what you’re doing, and don’t speak to him if you see him.”
I shook my head and drank the last sip of my coffee.
“Mom and Dad don’t need to know about this,” I pleaded.
“Izzy, let me fucking handle it.” Danny took his coffee cup and threw it against the brick building. It shattered everywhere. I cringed. I didn’t expect him to react like that.
“I’m so sorry I told you. I knew Marco would react like a violent ass; I didn’t expect you to. I thought he would go away and leave me alone after he came back. I was afraid Mom and Dad would think less of me. I was ashamed.”
“Think less of you? You loved this idiot! They pushed him on you too much. I wish you would have told me after it happened. This could have all been taken care of by now. Now I have to worry about this damn Ambassador on top of everything else.” Danny shook with rage.
He was so handsome, even when he was mad. I saw him angry like this once before and it wasn’t pretty. I gazed in his eyes and they were cold and dead, almost black.
“You have no reason to worry. He’s nothing but a gentleman with me. He treats me as if I’m a queen. Dad’s going to be pissed that he isn’t Italian, and he’s ten years older than me. About Anthony, it’s not worth you going to prison over, Danny. We can tell the police and hope for the best.” I started to wish I had not told him by the way he reacted.
“You are worth going to prison for. I would kill anyone that hurt you, Mom or Sophia. Don’t forget that.” His hands fisted at his sides and he was speaking through gritted teeth.
<
br /> “Please, Danny, don’t kill him.”
He kissed my forehead and guided me back into the restaurant.
“Quit worrying. Everything is going to be okay. When am I going to meet the Frenchman?”
“We aren’t at that point yet. Who the hell knows where it will go? It’s fun right now. Please don’t worry about Fabrice.”
That evening I packed for Paris. I was a frenzied mess as I ran in and out of my room and Avery’s picking out outfits, asking her if I could wear something she hadn’t worn in a while. Her Louis Vitton luggage was gorgeous. I almost hated to bring it with me. I just wanted to look like a true Parisian and not a tourist. Plus, I knew Fabrice was coming and that meant one thing: I longed for beautiful, romantic nights stolen away from everyone.
Chapter 12
The flight to Paris was longer than I anticipated. I watched as Fabrice and Elizabeth took seats on the other side of me. The heat between us was unbearable. I hated to see her giggling at everything he said and looking over at me to see if I was watching. I tried to look busy working on my laptop as the Attaché slept next to me. Along with being distant and rude, he snored like a freight train. I was tempted to kick him a couple of times.
Half way through our flight, Elizabeth sent me a text. Yes, she thought we were best friends since we worked together in the same office.
Keep it down over there. LOL
He’s obnoxious.
Hold his nose and see what happens.
It would be my luck he would die.
Worth a chance
You come over here and do it.
LOL
I fought the urge to run and sit on Fabrice’s lap at least eight times during the flight. My body responded so differently when he was near. Though his back was to me, the sight of any part of him set me on high alert. That, doubled with his scent traveling back at me, was enough to get me horny. Every time I sensed his presence, my body turned into something different from what I was. Even though he sat several seats away, he must have sensed my longing to fuck his brains out.