Page 45 of Savage Games

Breathing heavily, he pulled back. Placing his hands on my hips, he lowered to his knees between my legs.

“Oh, God! Richard!”

The first warm swipe of his tongue felt like a kiss from the devil.

The ice cubes had melted, leaving my pussy feeling cold and tight. Each touch from his tongue was heavenly fire. The tip flicked and teased my clit. I moaned as I drove my fingers into the thick waves of his hair, holding him closer. My head fell back, the extremes of hot and cold driving me wild as every nerve point in my body fired.

The lights of Paris danced and flickered across my half-closed eyes as the violin strains of ‘Drive’ by the Cars seeped into my consciousness. On some level I knew that meant the musician must be aware and could even see what was going on… but I didn’t care. My universe centered around Richard and what his mouth was doing.

Slamming my palms against the window, I cried out as an orgasm so intense it was almost painful racked my body.

As my knees gave out, Richard rose off his knees and caught me. With me lifted high in his arms, we returned to the table. This time I was on his lap.

Richard held the flute of champagne to my lips. I took a long sip and choked a little on the bubbles as they tickled the back of my throat and my nose.

My cheeks flamed when two servers approached with our first course. As I looked at Richard, I saw the side of his mouth quirk up. He tapped the end of my nose.

Reading my mind, he said, “Do you honestly think I would allow anyone to witness the ethereal beauty of you in the middle of an orgasm?”

I relaxed back into his arms at the reassurance.

Picking up a small silver appetizer fork, Richard continued, “Now hearing one of your magnificent orgasms, that’s a different story.”

Gasping, I playfully hit his shoulder. “Richard!”

He held a morsel up to my lips.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered suggestively.

Running my closed lips along the tines of the fork, the bite of food was both salty and sweet. Covering my mouth with my fingertips, I asked while still chewing, “That is so good. What is it?”

“The dish is called sarcive. It’s thinly sliced pork belly cooked in honey and spices served with a coriander puree,” answered Richard as he popped a bite into his mouth.

“It’s delicious.”

“I’m glad you like it. The food tonight is from a little restaurant in The Batignolles neighborhood called Le Faham. They specialize in flavors from the island of Reunion.”

“Reunion? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.”

“It’s a small island near Madagascar in the Indian Ocean. It’s pleasant, though I prefer my islands a little more remote and isolated.”

Shaking my head, I laughed. “Only you would think a tiny island in the middle of the Indian Ocean was not isolated enough from civilization.”

Richard just smiled.

After feeding me a few more bites, I reluctantly returned to my own seat for the next course. It was a delicate white fish with carrots and bittersweet ginger over crispy white rice.

Richard made another suggestive remark about the ginger, which made my cheeks flame.

As they prepared the table for dessert, I looked out at the twinkling city lights. I imagined all those millions of people below, going about their lives. For some this was home, for others a once-in-a-lifetime romantic trip. Some were probably deliriously happy, others terribly depressed. So many different lives. So many different stories and yet, not one of them came close to the drama, excitement, and pure craziness of our love story.

I returned my gaze to Richard. The hard lines of his jaw and brow were softened in the candlelight. Still, his eyes glowed a dark sapphire, the color of the deep ocean. He was just as unfathomable. Just when I thought I had him… had us… figured out, a squall would appear and wash away everything I thought I knew.

Where was all this leading?

Was a happy ending even possible for us?

Two people addicted to the twisted adrenaline rush of pain and lust.

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