Page 18 of Madam Alana

“Guilty.” He grinned and shoved the remaining half into hismouth, groaning in pleasure, his eyes closed. “Bacon is food from the gods.”

“If you say so,” I responded but sat down and just took himin. He was so incredibly handsome, smiling like a loon, eating heartily, andliving in the moment. I wanted to be like that. It seemed…freeing.

We ate in silence for a few minutes, both of us sating ourinitial hunger.

“After we eat, we need to head to the roof,” he announced,pointing a finger toward the ceiling.

“The roof?” I asked, wrapping my mouth around astrawberryand licking the piece before biting into it.

Christophe’s gazeheated,his eyesfocused intently on my mouth. For some reason, God only knew why, I held thestrawberry there and flicked my tongue against the juicy top, feasting on everybit of the tender fruit.

“Alana,” he purred low in his throat, soundingalmost pained. “You make me wish I were a piece of fruit. That mouth…putain!”Fuck!

I held the top of the berry and made a show of licking mylips. “It’s delicious. Want a taste?”

“Oui,” he whispered.

I grabbed the extra one I had on my plate and extended myhand with the berry dangling between two fingers.

Instead of taking the fruit, he encircled my wrist andtugged me until I had to hoist myself up, my body hovering over the table, facecloser to his. He leaned forward and took my mouth in an intensely wet andsultry meeting of lips. He tastedmein place of the fruit, moaning ashe flicked his talented tongue inside. I dropped the strawberry, cupped hischeeks, and gave him all that I could, our tongues dancing back and forth.

Pleasure rippled through my chest, making my heart beatdouble time and arousal ooze along my nerve endings. He nipped my bottom lipand I whimpered, feeling that bite between my thighs as a physical ache. Iretaliated by sucking on his tongue the way I’d learned made him wild.

His free hand threaded through the back of my hair where hecurled his fingers into the roots and fisted, keeping me in place. On a groan,he tore his mouth from mine, inhaling air in sharp bursts. “I’m trying my bestto be a gentleman,moncoeur, but just know I want to touch, smell, taste,and feeleveryounce of you. Pleasure you until you’re begging me tostop. That is how badly I want you.”

I swallowed slowly and stared into his mossy gaze, lettingout a little tortured huff as my body betrayed my mind, wanting everything hejust said he did, and maybe even more. Though my brain was at war with mytraitorous body, knowing that it was important to build a connection withoutphysicality mucking it up, especially since what we both ultimately desired wasa long and happy five years of marriage.

His lips twitched before he smirked. “I see this idea doesnot deter you in the slightest.” His nostrils flared, desire evident in hisexpression as I shook my head, my lady bits ready to take charge and tell mymind to shut up.

Christophe loosened his hold on my hair and let me go. “Soonwe will take that intimate step. Maybe after date five,” he said, then pickedup his fork and stabbed a sausage link.

I couldn’t speak, my body too filled with lust to functionproperly, still imagining him touching and tasting every inch of me.

“Have you been to the Grand Canyon?” he asked randomly,breaking me out of my lusty haze.

“No. I haven’t been anywhere in the States besides New YorkCity and now Las Vegas.”

He grinned. “Excellent. We are going to have a new adventuretogether.”

* * * *

The helicopter met us on the roof of the hotel we werestaying in. I’d never been in a helicopter, so I was eager to try somethingnew. Once we lifted off, the pilot narrated everything down below.

“And that right there is Lake Mead,” the pilot explained ashe curved to the right, giving us an unbelievable view of the sparkling bluewater.

“It’s magnificent,” I said, tracing the outline of it withthe tip of my finger on the small window.

Christophe pressed fully to my side, his body touching minefrom hip to knee as he leaned over and looked through my window. “Do you swim?”

“I haven’t in years, but I did back in Korea when I waslittle.”

“We have a heated indoor pool at our home in Paris, but Iwill take you to the French Riviera. Show you Cannes, St. Tropez, and Bandol.The water is as blue as this, but the shores are very rocky. We’ll need toprotect your tiny feet.” He winked.

“They aren’t that small,” I retorted.

“Cheri, I have seen them bare. They are not eventhe size of my hand with my fingers stretched out.” He held his hand up in astar shape, palm flat.

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe it’s not that I have tiny feet butthat you have enormous ones,” I challenged.

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