Blitzed(113)

Her hips started to lift up and down some, thrusting herself over and over onto me in short little jabs that combined with her hypnotic back and forth to rub her deep inside. A joyful little smile spread across the angel's bow of her lips, and soft little whimpers came over and over from inside her chest as her breasts quivered in front of me. "Yes, yes, yes . . .”

I echoed her cries, my cock throbbing with every little slap of her hips against mine. Jordan looked down and grinned, bending down to capture my mouth in hers. She pulled me over on top of her, her legs spreading to give me deep, full access to her body. My hips took over for hers, driving in and out of her. Still, I didn't go too hard. Not yet.

"What are you waiting for?" Jordan asked when she realized I was holding back.

"Taking my time, and the luxury of you," I said, demonstrating by slowing my hips down to the point it felt like I was dragging myself in and out with agonizing slowness. I wallowed in that luxury, smiling as we both slowly built the release within ourselves.

Jordan's cheeks and neck flushed, pink traveling all the way down to between her breasts, her hips lifting to meet me. Her eyes grew darker, begging silently, but still I teased her until I could stand it no longer. With a soft grunt of warning, I drove in harder and harder, giving in to the need inside of me. Our souls co-mingling, separated by only a hair's breadth from a perfect union, I pushed to close that last gap, knowing that when I did, our release would be cataclysmic.

"Felix . . .” Jordan moaned, clutching at my neck and pulling me in for a deep kiss. I felt her body tense, on the edge, and I gave myself over, filling her as fast and as hard as I could, chasing that sensation that was mind blowing yet always just out of reach. With a sharp gasp, Jordan came, squeezing down on me, and I found it. Paradise flooded my body as I found my own release, tears coming to my eyes at the intensity of it all.





Chapter 17





Francois





The next day, Felix went to the bank to deal with some of the financial issues we had pressing after months overseas. The Internet is a wonderful tool, but there are certain things that must be done in person, especially when so many of our investments and bank dealings are not always ones we wanted Interpol to know about. Leaving as soon as breakfast was finished, he told us as he’d be gone for some time. "Spreading the cash around takes a lot of effort sometimes," he explained to Jordan.

All it really meant was that I got to spend the entire afternoon alone with Jordan, something I was more than ready for. “You ready?” I asked her as she was fussing with her sweater. "Don’t worry, you look beautiful."

"I feel frumpy," she complained, tugging at the hem. "French girls are supposed to look glamorous and sexy. You know, skinny jeans and slinky cuts and all that. I feel like an American girl from the Midwest."

"You are an American girl from the Midwest," I reminded her, coming around and wrapping my arms around her waist. She was bigger than the average girl in Paris, but that was perfect for me. "As for your sense of fashion, it doesn't matter. Your beauty isn’t dependent on the drape of some Merino wool off of your shoulder or on it."

Jordan looked at the two of us in the mirror and smiled, taking my hand and kissing it. "Thank you, Francois. You know just how to make me feel better. So where are we going, anyway?"

"Notre Dame. It is about three kilometers away if you want to walk along the river, if not we can take the Metro," I said, sneaking another kiss on her earlobe. Jordan moaned, and I brought my hand to cup her full breast through the soft fabric. "Or we can stay here."

"Tempting, but later," Jordan said regretfully. Seeing my disappointment, she turned and kissed my lips. "You know I want to, but I want to see Paris too. Besides, don't be in such a rush — we have all the time in the world.”

“I’m going to pray at the cathedral for just that," I said, confused when her expression darkened. "What is it?"

"I . . . I have no need for the church in my life," Jordan said.

I nodded and kissed her forehead, noting that there must have been some tragedy in her life. I didn’t press the issue and just let it go. “No worries, my love. It was just a turn of phrase."

We headed for the hatch on the barge, and I helped her up the last two steps. Sometimes they’re slippery in winter. On deck, I stretched and enjoyed the weak afternoon sunshine. "I’m baptized, confirmed even. But growing up the way I did, there was plenty that I learned that wasn’t strictly according to Roman Catholic tradition."

“I’m sure," Jordan noted wryly. "I doubt your parents were ever married in a Catholic church."

I nodded, keeping my words to myself, and smiled. "Along the way we can get some lunch. It’s not a proper introduction to Paris without a stop at a street stall for good food. Paris has the best street stall food in the world, even better than the food trucks of New York or street sellers in London."

Jordan grinned and patted her stomach. "Careful, you’re going to fatten me up."

I laughed and kissed her cheek again. "I'm sure we can find plenty of ways to burn off any extra calories," I teased. "Come, let's go."

There’s nothing quite like walking along the River Seine through the oldest parts of Paris, especially after spending nearly half a year in America. "Even the Nazis were not so craven as to destroy Paris," I said as we strolled. "Despicable in every other way, they could still appreciate that which is the City of Light."