Page 70 of Oyster

“Mon dieu, no.” She shook her head. “He’s kind of scary.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

Christ, my hands were still trembling. A hysterical urge to laugh swept through me. Had I gone too far? Interfering between her and her parents, stamping all over a tricky relationship I had no right to judge? “Thank god he doesn’t know who I am. Or where I live.”

She gave a nervous giggle. “I think he was as surprised as me.Say goodbye, Mr. Salvador?That was straight out of a Bond film, wasn’t it? Our arguments don’t end like that.”

I kissed her mouth, feeling more myself again. And a tiny bit jubilant. “They do now.”

“Alors, Nico, that was so manly.” With both my hands in hers, she held them up, regarding them. “When he was talking, these gorgeous, rough fisherman’s hands of yours were all tense and quivering, bunched into two fat fists, like you were going to smash the screen and hurl the computer across the floor or something. In defence of my honour. Soromantic.”

She batted her eyelashes like a black-and-white movie star before spoiling the effect with a snort of laughter.

“Come here, woman, I’ll show youquivering.” Putting my rough fisherman’s hands to good use, I lunged for her. She was laughing too much at her own teasing to wriggle away.

Our playfight began with tickling and ended with me straddled, as usual, pinned down underneath her. But not complaining, because Éti was pulling her dress off over her head and tossing it to the floor. Her bra and knickers chased after it, as did my shirt, buttons pinging, cotton tearing, and belt buckle clanking while she pushed my jeans down. Desperate fingers slicing through my hair, her tongue attacked mine.

“La vache, I love you, Nico La Forge.”

“Love you more, Éti Salvador. Less fond of your dad.”

“That makes two of us. Forget about him.”

Her soft wet lips burned a trail across my skin, leaving my mouth bereft and my brain mushy. They skimmed each tattoo, nipping with the blunt edges of her teeth on every patch of bare flesh in between, marking it with a tattoo of her own, branding her name on every undeserving inch of me. Blazing hotter still, her mouth followed the swirl of a garish octopus arm, down to its root and beyond. My thighs fell open to let her in.

“Ugh. So good, Éti.”

A warm palm curled around my leaking cock; she swiped the head with her tongue as a needy whimper escaped my throat. More pearls of moisture pulsed from my slit as she covered it with her mouth. Sinful eyes, two smoky daubs of slate, flicked up to mine. Her plump lips glistened with spit.

“Oh Christ. That feels good.”

She sucked some more, sliding deeper, building a rhythm. Too good. “I want to be inside you.”

Her mouth slid off my cock, and she wiped a finger across her wet lips. “You want to fill me up?”

“Pute, yes. Now. Have you got anything?”

“Some stuff Florian recommended, yes. He says it’s the best.”

For fuck's sake.

Again, her mouth engulfed my dick as that spit-slick finger slid behind. Lightheaded, my vision blurred. I fell apart underneath her, begging her to stop, yet pleading with her to carry on. I was floating in a dark void, led blindly through an ocean of warm velvet, like my bones, my limbs, my brain were melting away, like…

As my balls retracted, she pulled away, and I swivelled back to reality in time to see her reach for something from the coffee table. A tearing noise and then she was leaning up on her strong thighs and fingering herself, lips parted, restless eyes drinking me in.

“You are so beautiful doing that, Éti,” I panted, running my hands over her taut bare buttocks. “Does it feel good?”

“Amazing,” she moaned. “But you inside is better still.”

“No rush.” My hand found my cock. “I could watch you like that all night.”

Lining herself up, she took me into her body. Long, long seconds of exquisite torture, of not daring to move until she was fully seated. Then the familiar look of bliss I’d come to adore settled across her features. With a minute arching of my hips, I tested the waters.

“You feel that, Éti? You like that?”

“Oh yes.” She gave a little gasp as I did it again. “More.”

I stroked my fingers up her thighs, admiring her sat atop me, taking unashamed joy in her body. “That’s us, Éti.” I lifted again as she writhed on my cock. “That’s me moving inside you and you begging to have me there, my love.”

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