Page 71 of Blind Devotion
“I’m sorry.”
“Mon papillon.” His head pressed to mine. “Ma tigresse. Ma rescapée.We don’t have to do anything.”
“The doctor cleared me.”
“I know.”
I shook my head. Because, of course, he already knew that, but didn’t know me,not this new me. “Don’t treat me like glass. You haven’t done that this entire week and a half. Don’t start now.”
“You went through a horrible—”
“No.” I silenced him with a finger to his lips. “I’m lucky.” I kissed one of his cheeks. “I survived it all.” I kissed his other cheek. “I erased the worst of it when I needed that most.” Now a kiss to his neck. I loved the way his throat vibrated as he groaned.
“I’m so sorry you lived through that.” I could hear his anguish.
“Then help me replace the bad with good. Make me feel so good that it can’t haunt me. So that it’ll be nothing in comparison to this. To us. Can you do that?”
“With pleasure.”
His mouth crashed against mine. There was nothing sweet and tender about it this time. It was commanding and soul-changing, and it demanded all my focus. There was nothing but us. He lifted me and plopped me down on the cold lid of the piano.
“But first I’m going to taste you.”
He shoved my shirt up and over my head, then he was touching me. Caressing me. Owning me. It was nothing like my nightmares, and I loved every second of it. He cupped one breast, his thumb fondling circles over it while his other hand pinched my other nipple. It was harsh yet sweet, exactly what I didn’t know I needed. I whimpered, arching my back for more.
“So beautiful,” he whispered against my skin as he cupped my breast. “So responsive. So mine.”
His mouth smoothed kisses down my collarbone to my chest. His teeth nipped the skin at the side of my lace-covered breasts, then he went lower and lower. Nibbling. Kissing.
“I’m going to give you everything you deserve. Everything you always should have received.”
His hand pushed me down, and I didn’t resist. This was my man. I knew it in my bones. I knew it in my heart, and with every moment together, every reminder of our past, those feelings flared brighter.
The piano chilled my back, making me even more aware of the warmth of his touch. His fingers were on my panties, his lips feathering over my hip bone, as if waiting for my acceptance. I lifted my hips, and instantly, he slipped my panties down my thighs and off.
“Good girl.”
Before I could process those words, he spread my thighs, brushing a finger through my folds. A throaty moan escaped me as my body reached for more than that little touch.
“So greedy. So wet. You need this,papillon, don’t you?”
“More, Adrien.” More of him. His fingers. His words. I wanted there to only be him. “Please.”
“God, my name on your lips. It makes me want to do bad, bad things to this body.”
Then more of his fingers were on me, spreading me wide. Petting, stroking my clit. I whimpered, needing everything, every part of him. I knew he was going slow because he thought I needed that. I didn’t. I reached for him. My fingers threaded through his hair and gripped the strands before pushing his face directly into my pussy. The moment his mouth fell on me, I cried out with hunger, my head arched back against the unforgiving instrument.
“Yes!”
That one word seemed to break his restraint. His tongue dived in, circling my clit, teasing its sides, before sucking on it until I was bucking off the piano. Only then did he drive his tongue inside me. I saw shooting stars. I bucked myself on him over and over, chasing them. And when his tongue licked its way back up to my clit and his fingers slammed inside me, a supernova exploded. I was floating, surfing a wave.
“Adrien, you in here? We have a problem.”
Whoever it was barely knocked before the door clacked open against the wall.
“What the fuck is this shit?”
I yelped, scrambling to cover myself, my high gone. Oh my god, the idea that someone could see me—all of me—when I couldn’t see them…Bile rose up my throat, and I felt so dizzy.
