There was only so much I could do to keep myself from getting too rough. I pulled my hands away from Livvie and my cock and placed them on the wall in front of me. I felt more than heard Livvie’s grateful sigh. I was rewarded further when her hands roamed from my hips to my ass and she pulled me deeper into her mouth.
“Fuck!” I let myself stay. I wanted to stay. It felt so fucking good. Livvie’s gag reflex kicked in and I pulled away quickly. More gasping. More spit.
Livvie opened her eyes as she caught her breath. There were tears in her eyes, but I knew she wasn’t crying. She was wanton. Her head came forward and rubbed against my thigh in supplication. It’s difficult to process all the things I feel when Livvie expresses herself this way. If I were a wolf, I would howl. If I were a lion, I would roar. If we lived in the jungle, I would bring her a wolf and a lion to feast on.
I reached down and stroked her wet head. She tilted her face into my hand, eyes pleading, her mouth leaving kisses in my palm. I had a thought: Does she love me, or does she love all the things I do to her?
“Tell me what you want,” I said. It wasn’t a question. Livvie’s eyes had not left mine and it was easy to see the sudden vulnerability in them.
“To make you happy,” she said. She seemed unsure, though I couldn’t guess why.
“I’m happy,” I said. I knew I could push her further, but I wasn’t up for the repercussions. I pulled her up onto her shaky legs and finally gave her the proper kiss she’d been wanting. As I broke the kiss I said, “Turn around and spread your legs.”
She did as I asked while I rearranged my larger frame in the small space. Livvie’s shower was really only meant for one person. I managed to sit on the shower floor with her thighs spread over my face. I kissed her clit once before I slid my tongue inside her and made her come.
As she came apart above me, I guided her down my body until she finally sat on my cock. The void in me shuddered. It was enough, I told myself. Everything Livvie and I had was enough. I paid no attention to the void when it sang: For now.
Livvie and I kissed. We fucked.
The void was silent.
CHAPTER NINE
Paris is a lovely city, even in the winter. It’s a delightful mix of the old and new. It’s one of the only places you can see a five-hundred-year-old building with a Starbucks inside. However, as the world’s most popular city to visit, the congestion of tourists does detract some from the experience. At least, it did for me. I don’t like people as a general rule, and I like them even less when they’re pressed against me in a crowded space.
It was our second day in Paris and Livvie had insisted that we visit the Louvre Museum. Thanks to some generous tipping, we managed to circumvent the line to see the Mona Lisa but not the throngs of people already inside.
“I wish we could see it better. All that glass makes it hard to see the details. Still pretty cool, though. What do you think?” Livvie looked up and craned her neck back to see me.
I scowled (it’s something I do a lot apparently).
“I think this asshole behind me should take his blurry photo and stop bumping into me before I decide to do some performance art with his face.”
Livvie’s smile turned into a judgmental pout.
“It’s crowded, Sexy. Guy can’t help it. At least we’re up front. Last time I was here, I was sort of in the middle and I couldn’t see over the people. I kept getting pushed from every side. I finally just turned around and left.” She leaned against the small barricade to get a closer look.
“Well, that idea has promise.” I glared at the man behind me while Livvie wasn’t looking. He held up his hand and dipped his head as he apologized. He was so nice about it I actually felt bad for being angry. This was the effect of being with Livvie. The old me would have said, Yes, you’re sorry. Now fuck off.
There was a swat to my chest and I turned back toward Livvie, who had apparently caught me.
“Be. Nice. I don’t want to be carted off to Les Mis jail in my fancy clothes. The lesbians will eat me alive.” She grinned.
“Two puns in one joke,” I said with a blasé tone. “Bit of an overreach. Also, it’s pronounced lay, not les.”
“Whatever, it was funny.” Livvie blushed and cuddled into my chest. I finally had to chuckle. It took me a long time to realize how adept Livvie is at managing my moods. She’d made me forget I was angry and she’d done it without my knowing.
I took her hand and navigated our way through the crowd so that we might visit other, less inhabited, exhibits. Like most people, I don’t know art, but I know what I like. For my part, I appreciated some of the “less superior” pieces more than the Mona Lisa. I didn’t find her smile that mysterious, to be honest. I enjoyed Guiseppe Arcimboldo’s Autumn much more. The artist incorporated fruits and vegetables to create a portrait of a man. It made me think about life and death. All things ripen and die. I thought about being twenty-seven. Knowing one’s age had consequences.
After the Louvre, we ate lunch at a small café within walking distance of the museum. The hotel provided a courtesy chauffeur, but Livvie insisted it was cheating to utilize such services. Walking was certainly more Parisian and therefore necessary to our tourist experience. I was no stranger to walking, but I shared no such thoughts on the subject.
By the time we reached the Eiffel Tower by way of the Arc de Triomphe, I was ready to throw Livvie into a taxi. But of course, we had to reach the top of the tower. Livvie—being the beautiful, young, and spry girl she is—was still full of energy and smiles. It was just her luck (and my misfortune) that her joy seemed to be infectious and kept me from voicing my growing disdain for tourist traps.
“Awesome! The elevator is working this time,” Livvie said.
I pulled her away from the ticket window before the line turned on her.
“Sorry, Kitten, but I’m not getting in that thing. What if it breaks down? Do you really want to be jammed into a tiny box with dozens of strangers? The idea doesn’t appeal to me.” I don’t like cramped spaces of the non tight, wet, and warm variety.
“Aww, are you claustrophobic?” Livvie made a mockingly sad face.
“Watch yourself, Kitten. I’d hate to have to spank your ass in front of all these people.” I tugged her close and delivered a firm slap to her behind. Someone giggled as they walked past. Livvie laughed.
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
“I plan on doing a lot more later,” I whispered in her ear and bit it for good measure. She squealed and pulled away. “I just hope I have the energy after I climb all these damn stairs.”
“Really? The stairs?” At last it was Livvie who was whining about doing things the hard way.
“Yes. The stairs. And it serves you right for having me walk all over Paris. I hope your thighs get nice and sore on the way up. It’ll make things that much more interesting when I make you squat over me later.” She scrunched up her nose and I laughed.
“You’re mean,” she said.
“Would you have me any other way?” I received little more than a suspicious glare. “Do you have anything in your coat pocket?”
She inspected her coat.
“No. All I brought was my passport, but you took it.”
“Good. I’d hate for you to get pick-pocketed again.” I kissed her forehead and directed our steps toward the stairs.
“What if you get pick-pocketed?”
“That’s cute, Pet.” I half hoped someone would try. I’d been growing increasingly desperate for confrontation. It had been months since I’d had some sort of altercation. I was surprised to discover how much I missed it. I pushed the thought aside for perhaps the hundredth time.