Her ripe lips parted on a sigh as she arched up once more, pleading silently with her body. So, again, he slid inside her heat. This time, he pushed a little deeper and a little harder. As he retreated from her body, he felt her greedy pussy gripping him tightly.
Her neck strained back on his pillow, and the sheer eroticism of the moment crashed down over him.
“Phillipe,” she moaned.
He couldn’t help but bring his free hand up to her face, tracing her parted lips with his fingers, while his other hand lifted her hips, tilting them and once again positioning them for his smooth slide inside her tight warm center.
She gently sucked his finger into her mouth and swirled her tongue around his fingertip, teasing him, much like his cock was teasing her body. She bit down and raised her hips, letting him know that she was done playing.
Removing his finger, he placed his hand by her head, palm flat on the soft mattress, and he squeezed her ass where his other hand was holding her.
Leaning down, he kissed her mouth. He told her, “I love you,” right before he thrust his cock deep inside her, feeling her warmth as it flooded over his hard, sensitive skin.
Bracing himself, he slowly moved inside of her, slowly, like the beginning of a beautiful orchestral piece. He started out steady and calm. As her mouth parted and her thighs tightened around his waist, his hips moved faster, and the fury was upon them as they crashed down to earth.
Each entwined in one another, and each bathed in the other’s love.
No, he thinks as he stands and moves to the window, looking out at the arbor.
He can’t keep Gemma. To pretend otherwise would not be fair. While she is here though, while she is here with them, maybe they can share her for just a little longer.
Chapter Fifteen ~ Requiem
Day 12
I find Phillipe up in his studio later that afternoon. Making my way inside the room, I move over to the desk, placing my laptop down and opening it.
He’s sitting where I found him the first day I arrived at the chateau. Dressed in the same dark pants and a black turtleneck, his sensual eyes are stunning in contrast. I lean up against the desk and take a moment to really look at him.
“Are we going to discuss what happened?” I ask, taking this moment to try and make sense of everything I’m feeling and possibly everything he is.
“What is it you feel needs discussing, Gemma?”
“Stop it,” I tell him, moving forward.
I take a step closer to where he is seated, and that’s when he pushes up from the chair and moves in my direction, meeting me halfway. Looking up at him, I’m struck for the first time in days as to just how incredibly attractive Phillipe really is. His dark hair looks like he’s pushed it away from his face, but a few strands have fallen forward, flirting with his lashes.
“Stop what?” he questions in a voice I’m starting to dream about.
“Stop trying to intimidate me. I want to know you,” I tell him, taking that final step to him. It’s a shock to me when he takes a retreating one back.
“You don’t know what you want, Gemma,” he informs me darkly, those mysterious eyes narrowing.
“I seemed to know what I wanted last night. Wouldn’t you say?”
He shakes his head in disagreement as I move again, taking one step forward to his step back.
“You didn’t know what you wanted last night.”
“Didn’t I?” I query, starting to get annoyed. I need him to open up to me. I want him to trust me, and the only way I can see that happening is for me to trust him.
“I knew exactly what I wanted last night. I wanted you,” I explain. I watch his mouth pull into a grimace, but I’m not finished yet. “And I wanted her. I still want her.”
As my words penetrate his mind, he looks me over before allowing those hot eyes to come back and land on my face.
“You don’t know what you’re saying right now. Would you listen to yourself?”
Straightening my shoulders, I lift my chin. “How about you listen to me? I know exactly what I just said, and I know exactly what I’m feeling. I’ll admit that I don’t have the first idea why or how it is that I want her, but I do, just as much as I want you.”
Finally, he stops moving backward and takes a step toward me. He reaches out to grip my shoulders tightly. “Do you hear what you’re telling me?”
I lick my lips as his voice skates along my spine, touching every nerve. I shiver with anticipation.
“Yes,” I reply on a breathy sigh. “I’m sick and tired of hiding it from you. You know what I’m reading, you know what you’re telling me, and I’m placing my trust in you. I’m giving my body to you.” Swallowing deeply, I try to regain my slipping composure. “I don’t know what it is you see, and I don’t know what you’re feeling, but when you bring her between us, something happens inside of me.”
I watch almost in slow motion as he reaches out a hand and fingers my hard, tight nipple.
“See? I’m not lying, Phillipe. You and Chantel have done something to me.” I shiver as I confess, “And I want you to do it over and over.”
As Phillipe stands there, listening to the words that are tumbling from Gemma’s mouth, he’s trying to tell himself that this is not a good idea. Not only is she going to be there temporarily, she is also a journalist, a reporter who is writing a story on him.
None of this can end well. She wants him to touch her, to break her down, and to crawl inside of her. She wants Chantel.
He knows she has been struggling to understand her feelings when it comes to the paintings, as well as her reactions to him, but to stand in front of him…to confess her perversion? Well, he knows there’s no way he can walk away from that. If anything, it makes him want to slide deeper inside of her to indulge in her debauchery.
“Honesty,” he commands gruffly, removing his hand from her nipple to touch her chin.
She doesn’t flinch. In fact, she doesn’t even blink.
“If we go where you want to go, Gemma, if we get deep inside this head of yours, you have to give me honesty.”
Her eyes dilate, and her lips part.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she whispers, breathing slowly.
“You need to tell me what you’re thinking—all the time.”
She nods as Phillipe moves his free hand to her waist. He wraps his arm around her, pulling her forward. “And if you want to scream her name out when my cock is fucking you, you scream it, right into my ear.”
I can feel the inner muscles of my soaked pussy spasm and clench at his dark suggestion. How is it that with just a few simple suggestive words this man has reduced me to a quivering pile of flesh and bones?
“Can you be that honest, Gemma? Can you let yourself go and be that raw?”
Quickly, I agree, afraid he’s going to change his mind—or that I will.