Page 20 of The Carver

“As tempting as that sounds, I want you for you, not your money.” And at some point, that position might be eliminated, and I would be back to square one. But I didn’t dare say that, not when I’d already pushed him to the edge once. My job at the company was solid, and if things didn’t work out, he could still do his business without seeing me if he wanted to avoid it.

He rose from the table and grabbed my coat from the coat rack. After he helped me bundle up, he got me into the back seat of the SUV, and we headed toward the Eiffel Tower, where his house was located.

It was a quiet drive, and he was on his phone, texting people, probably about work. Rain pelted the windows and streakeddown. I watched the statues and monuments in the streets as we passed. The Eiffel Tower stunned as it danced under its lights.

We arrived at his home and took the elevator to the top floor. The fire was already alive in the hearth like Bastien had told Gerard to prepare it on the way home. I wasn’t ready to let go of my coat yet, not when I was still cold, even with the heater on full blast in the back seat.

Bastien entered his bedroom and removed his jeans and button-up. He had a watch on his wrist, and he ditched that too. He returned in his natural state, in gray sweatpants and nothing else.

He came up behind me and locked his thick arms around my body, one over my chest and the other across my stomach. He squeezed me tight against him before he peeled the jacket off my body, exposing my skin to the heat of his body and the flames from the hearth. He dropped the jacket on the floor before he bent his neck and kissed my shoulder, kissed it with a hungry mouth and a demanding tongue. His arms formed bars to a cage that locked tight around me, and he kissed my neck, nipped at my collarbone, devoured me like the cream inside a cannoli.

He pulled down one strap and then the other before he shoved the material down to expose my tits. His big hands gripped them both and squeezed just the way he squeezed my ass, his mouth pressed close to my ear so I could listen to the quiet moan he made as he grabbed me.

I’d fucked around in my early twenties and had the time of my life, but a man had never made me feel as desirable as Bastien. Like he would starve without my kiss, he would writhe in pain if he couldn’t make me his. He would howl at the moon in grief. He was a man who could have anyone he wanted, women youngerand hotter than me, but his hands shook as he clutched me, as if he was afraid I was the one who would leave.

He grabbed the hem of my dress and yanked it up to expose my ass. Now my dress sat at my waist, just a strip of material that looked like a belt, and he grabbed one of my tits with one hand, while he moved the other between my legs and played with my clit like a pick on a guitar string.

My hips instinctively bucked, and I let out a gasp I’d never heard myself make before. I squirmed in his grasp because it wasn’t a slow start to the heat, the stovetop set to low. Instead, it was cranked all the way to high.

He kept me in place, his lips near my ear, playing with me hard and making my knees tremble. “Coke. Heroin. Acid. Nothing compares to this.”

I continued to tremble in his hold, continued to gasp because he pushed so hard on my clit that I already wanted to burst. It was a climax he didn’t earn, just took. I felt it be ripped from my body like tape from the skin. “No…”

His fingers slowed way down, gently rubbing my nub in circular motions, but that was torturous for the opposite reason. “You want me inside you, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” I held on to the arm that was locked over my chest.

“Say please.”

“Goddammit, Bastien?—”

“Say please.”

“How long are you going to punish me?”

“As long as I feel like it.” His fingers continued the slow torture. “Now, say it.”

I lacked shame, only possessed desperation. “Please…”

“Attagirl.” He struck my ass cheek hard with his palm.

I cried out as he lifted me, one arm under my knees with the other behind my shoulders. He hoisted me up, and I was airborne for a second before I landed back in his arms. He cradled me to him and carried me to the bed before he threw me on it.

I bounced before I rolled, not used to being thrown across the bed like a rag doll.

His bottoms were off, and he grabbed me by the ankle, dragging me to him at the edge of the bed before he hooked his arms behind my knees and folded me underneath him like a hot pretzel from the mall. He pushed inside, sheathed in the arousal that had overflowed and seeped to my inner thighs while I’d stood in front of the fire. He gave a victorious moan when he reaped the reward of his labor. He sank fully inside before he ground into me, rubbing his pelvic bone against my clit.

It hurt to take all of it, but his hot skin against my clit lit me up like a firework.

I gripped his wrists and held on as he started to fuck me at the foot of his bed, hard and fast, like a stallion at the beginning of a race.

I lay there and did nothing except take it, watching this six-foot-three monster of a man do all the work, like it was an honor to fuck me when I was the one who should have been fucking his brains out.

I’d been at the finish line when it was just his fingers, but this gorgeous man’s fat dick was like magic and pounded pleasure into me with every stroke. I was already there, a mess of tears and tremors, writhing from both the pain and pleasure. “Bastien…”

He moaned as he watched me come for him, his dick just a little harder because he wanted to join me.

“Come inside me.”

---