His hands go to either side of my head and hold me in place as I grip the base of his dick and start pumping him into my mouth faster, harder, my teeth occasionally scraping along the stiff, veiny ridge, which prompts a breathless gasp from him.
“Seraphine,” he says, voice gruff, and his words are like a prayer said in the middle of the night. The kind of prayer you make even if you don’t know anyone is listening.
I want to answer his prayers. This man who was once my cousin and yet ended up being even closer than that. A man who saw in me what ailed him, someone who didn’t have a place in the world. Someone on the outside.
Now we have each other.
I’ll do my best to hang on to that.
“Stop,” he hisses. “Stop. I need to come inside you.”
I pull my lips away from his hot shaft and smile as I get to my feet.
Before I can say anything, he’s kissing me fiercely, violently, and then he’s spinning me around until my arms are up high, palms pressed flat against the glass of the shower, my sensitive nipples barely grazing it.
He parts my legs by sliding his hand between my ass and the back of my thighs and grips my waist as he pushes himself inside me.
I gasp from the feel of him, a shock to my system, then I relax as he slowly eases in and out, and my body starts writhing with greed.
Yes. Yes, this is what I wanted.
This is what I needed.
For him to reach me deep inside here and turn my world upside down.
Make up for all this fucking lost time.
And make up for it, he does.
He fucks me thoroughly, pumping himself up into me from behind, more and more, faster and faster, until he’s slipping around on the tiles and I’m pressed up against the glass, and I wouldn’t have it any other way than this.
He pulls my hair and tells me he loves me.
I cry out his name, begging for more.
He gives me more.
More and more.
And then we’re both coming, lost to each other and swept away by the falling water. Every care and worry and wish I had gets swept down in a circle toward the drain.
At least for the moment, but a moment will do.
Then, when we both regain our breath and give each other a flushed and slightly shy smile, we soap each other up from head to toe, making sure that when we step out of the shower, we’re different people than when we stepped in.
When we’re clean and dried off, I walk right over to the bed and throw back the covers, getting in. I don’t care that I’m naked, I don’t care that it’s the afternoon. I just want to rest.
Blaise follows, coming in to be beside me and pulling me close, tucking the covers around on top of us. This is the first time I’ve been in a bed with him, and I have to say that it feels as natural as breathing.
I rest my head on top of his chest, relishing the sound of his heartbeat, the warmth of his strong body, a body that would die to protect me.
I love him. With every fiber of my being, I love him.
I want to live in this feeling, hold it close, now and forever.
But I know that finding love doesn’t mean that life stops.
It means that you want more than ever to keep on living.
“What happens now?” I ask softly, wanting both to talk about it and to pretend that everything is fine, that all we need for the rest of our lives is in this hotel room. And maybe it is.
“Well,” he says, inhaling slowly as his fingers play with my wet hair. “I struck a deal with Pascal.”
“You did what?”
“I know. But believe me when I say he’ll honor it, because he will. A lot went down this morning, a lot of stuff I don’t want to get into right now. But we have a way out of it. Both of us.”
I’m almost afraid to hear what it is. I lift my head and rest my chin on his chest, staring at him. “What?”
“You’re getting transferred to Dubai.”
“Dubai?” Now I’m sitting up straight. “Why?”
“Because, as you know, that’s where the new Dumont office is. And they’re looking for someone to head the company there. That someone will be you. Or you can take any of the other roles if you want. Or you don’t have to take any. But for now, that’s the solution.”
“What if I don’t want to go to Dubai?”
He gives me an apologetic smile. “You can’t stay in Paris. You know that.”
“Tell me what happened.”
He exhales noisily. “Everything happened. I got Pascal to cover for us. To get my father to call off his fucking hounds.”
“How did you do that?”
“Your gun came in handy.”
My brows raise to the ceiling. “You pulled a gun on your brother?”
He nods. “Was I not supposed to?”
“Blaise . . .”
“It was the only way he’d listen, and you know that. I was hiding there when Father showed up with Jones and his cronies. By the way, the guy you shot is alive . . . not well, but alive.”
“You saw him?” I’m almost embarrassed at the relief I feel at his not being dead.
“As I said, I was hiding. But I heard it all. Pascal stayed true to his word. We’re both cleared to leave. He doesn’t care where I go and neither does my father. It hurt to hear that part, not going to lie, but at least I know it was honest. As for you, well, you can go to Dubai. It would be what’s best for the company, but I already quit, so I don’t give a flying fuck about the Dumont brand. Don’t think I ever did. Just wanted to belong, that’s all. But if you want it, you can have control at the Dubai office, the power. You’re good at what you do, and you’ve earned it. But if that doesn’t appeal to you, we can go anywhere you want. And when I say we, I mean it. It’s you and me. I can’t leave your side, even if I wanted to.”
It’s too much to handle all at once. I don’t even know if I want to work for Dumont anymore, but perhaps a new city in a new country, as a boss . . . maybe that’s what I need. Or maybe I need to cut ties altogether.
“Can I figure it out when I get there? What if I don’t want it?”
“Then we’ll do what you want. You can get a job anywhere, and you know it. We just can’t be here. Not in Paris. That’s where it all ends.”
“That’s the only part of the deal?”
“That and dropping the investigation into your father.” He pauses. “I know that’s hard. I know it’s so hard, especially when we both know, well . . . the truth.”
“Which is?” I demand. I need to hear him say it.
“That my father killed your father,” he says.
And it’s like my whole world changes into something new.
I am no longer alone in my conviction.
I am no longer alone.
I swallow, feeling tears well up inside me. “You believe it,” I whisper, my nails pressing into his chest. “You believe it.”
“I do. And I am so sorry,” he says, his eyes growing wet as he stares at me, brows drawn together in determination. “I am so, so sorry. So sorry that he’s dead. So sorry that I didn’t believe you. And I am so, so sorry that it was my own father who took his life. That it was someone whose blood runs through my veins. I am so sorry that I am his son.”
I’m already breaking, and Blaise looks close to it.