Page 42 of Je T'aime, Actually
Not just a house, it was a home, full of character.
Chloé reappeared, picked up the suitcase, a small smile playing on her lips. “Dinner is almost ready. Come on, I’ll show you to our room.”
The words ‘our room’made Monroe feel warm and fuzzy. How was it she felt this comfortable with someone so easily? So quickly?
Chloé led Monroe up the creaking wooden stairs, the soft glow of an outside lamp filtering through the small window, casting warm patterns on the walls.
At the top, Chloé pushed open a door to reveal a cosy bedroom, its rustic charm softened by plush pillows and fancy linens. A small vase with fresh flowers sat on the bedside table, and a few more well-loved books were scattered across a worn wooden dresser.
Chloé’s voice was soft but certain. “I hope you like it.”
“I love it.” Monroe turned to her, a smile tugging at her lips. “If I weren’t so hungry and tired, I’d let you make love to me right now.” She threaded her arms around Chloé’s neck. “You make me feel so wanted.”
Chloé laughed softly, her fingers tracing gentle circles on Monroe’s back. “Well, I’ll take that as a promise for later.”
Monroe’s heart quickened at the thought, but she nodded towards the door. “Come on, before the food burns.”
They headed downstairs together, the warmth between them growing stronger with every step. The scent of something delicious filled the air, and Monroe felt that rare, thrilling mix of comfort and excitement—like this was exactly where she was meant to be.
thirty-four
Sinking down onto the silicone phallus, Monroe let out a soft, aching moan, fingers tightening their grip on the cool metal rail of the bedhead. The competing sensations—smooth plastic inside her, and the chill of the metal in her hands—only heightened the fire building deeply within. Her breasts rose and fell with each slow, deliberate movement.
Chloé sat upright, hands free to move and touch Monroe. She palmed a breast, squeezing rhythmically to match Monroe, before guiding the nipple to her mouth.
Monroe’s body moved instinctively, rising up, inch by inch, before sinking back down in a rhythm that was both sensual and measured. She closed her eyes, letting the pleasure wash over her, every nerve ending alive. The soft suckling of Chloé’s mouth now on her nipple sent sparks cascading through her, mingling with the steady press of hands that moved to rest on her hips. Chloé’s touch was gentle yet commanding, guiding her with a steady, unyielding pressure.
“Just like that,” Chloé murmured, her voice thick with desire, warm breath fanning across Monroe’s heated skin. Her lips traced a slow, persistent path from Monroe’s collarbone, down the curve of her shoulder, before returning to hover over the swollen nipple she’d been worshipping. Every kiss left a trail of fire, and Monroe’s skin tingled beneath her touch.
Monroe’s fingers clenched more tightly around the cool metal rail of the bedhead, knuckles whitening as she found her rhythm begin to shift She savoured the delicious friction gradually building to a faster, more urgent pace. The silicone glided smoothly, every movement coaxing a deeper ache from within.
Chloé’s hands framed Monroe’s hips, steady and sure, thumbs painting lazy, hypnotic circles that tethered her to the moment, grounding her when everything else threatened to spin out of control.
The room was alive with soft, intimate sounds—breaths caught between gasps, whispered names, the slick slide of skin on silicone—all blending into a private symphony meant for just them.
“Rub my clit,” Monroe gasped, her voice barely more than a tremor.
Chloé’s lips left Monroe’s breast, brushing against her skin in a featherlight kiss. “You’re incredible,” she whispered, her thumb gliding over the swollen bundle of nerves with expert precision. The sensation hit Monroe like a wave, pooling deep and hot, setting her nerves aflame.
Her body shuddered, trembling as the pleasure built to a shattering peak. Every muscle clenched and released in perfect rhythm, riding the crest of the wave until the world narrowed down to the two of them; connected, breathless, lost in a perfect moment of shared abandon.
Monroe’s breath came fast and shallow, her body still trembling from the waves of pleasure. She stayed pressed against Chloé, feeling the steady beat of her heart beneath her.
Lowering, Monroe, leant forwards, brushing her lips softly over Chloé’s jawline, then lingering at the corner of her mouth. Their eyes met, heavy with heat and something unspoken—trust, desire, a promise.
“You feel incredible inside me,” Monroe murmured, thick with emotion. She dipped her head to kiss Chloé’s parted lips.
Chloé’s fingers tightened slightly around Monroe’s waist, pulling Monroe closer. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, her breath warm and urgent. “I want all of you.”
Smiling against her mouth, Monroe resumed a slow, deliberate rhythm once more, savouring every touch, every sound, every stolen moment between them.
Chloé shifted beneath her, lifting her hips in perfect time with Monroe’s tempo, meeting every movement with a steady, sure thrust upwards.
Their bodies moving together, a slow, sensual dance—push and pull, rise and fall—each touch and motion igniting pleasure. Chloé’s hands slid from Monroe’s hips to her back, fingers pressing firmly, pulling her closer, urging her on.
“So fucking hot.” Chloé’s voice thick with need as she matched Monroe’s pace, her breath hitching with each movement.
Monroe leant down, resting her forehead against Chloé’s, seeing the urgency in her eyes. “So good,” she whispered back.
