Discretion (The Dumonts, #1)(45)

A lump forms in my throat. “I make you happy?”

“Oh, mon lapin,” he whispers, kissing me softly, “you are the only thing that’s good and pure and real in my whole life.”

Damn. He means it. I can taste his intentions, feel how raw and open he’s being.

“You mean everything to me,” he says, his lips leaving little kisses and nibbles from my mouth to all along my jaw and down to my neck. Meanwhile, his hand reaches toward the sash around my trench coat and undoes it.

He steps back and then opens the coat wider to get a look at me. In that moment I wish I actually had high heels on instead of these mini ones, but I can tell from the heated look in his eyes that he doesn’t even notice.

He drinks me in like a dying man’s last breath.

“You’re too beautiful for this world to contain,” he tells me.

Damn.

I feel that one right in my core, causing an explosion of fireworks down my spine.

But those fireworks are quickly replaced with even bigger ones as he takes me in his arms and kisses me passionately. I’m gasping for breath in seconds, my body on fire in this desperate, primal way. My hands run up and down his suit, wanting it off him, while he devours my lips, ears, neck, making his way down.

He pulls aside the lace of my bra and brings out my breast, his lips sucking my nipple with a long, hard pull. I feel it travel through me in hot pulses, and I’m already panting, wanting more.

The trench coat drops to the ground, and then his hands take a meaty hold of my ass, and then he’s lifting me up as if I weigh nothing at all. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist, the tiny kitten heels pressing against the small of his back.

“You need to take off your clothes,” I tell him, trying to undo his shirt and hold on tight at the same time, but he just gives me a heated grin and spins me around until I’m pressed up against the glass windows.

I turn my head and try to look down. We’re only four floors up, but, even so, it’s a bit unnerving to be pressed up against the glass like this, like we could go crashing to our deaths at any moment.

Not to mention the fact that anyone can see us.

“Uh, I know the French are pretty relaxed with sex and nudity, but are you sure about this?” I ask him as he continues to devour me. His hands are slipping down to his pants, and he’s undoing his zipper.

“I’m sure the neighbors out there are used to this,” he murmurs from my neck, where he sucks and licks and makes my skin feel like a live wire. “And they can’t see your face. Can’t see mine either.”

He’s got a point. He doesn’t live here; this is just a hotel. A hotel he owns, but a hotel nonetheless. We’re completely anonymous.

And even the idea of someone watching us have sex is a bit of a turn-on. Maybe it wouldn’t have been in my previous life, but here and now, with my lingerie-clad ass pressed up against the window, it is.

And I don’t have to be ashamed to admit it, even if just to myself.

He pulls his cock out and holds me harder against the glass for balance as he digs out a condom from his pants pocket.

“If I were staying longer, I would suggest we both get tested,” I tell him. “I’m already on the pill.”

He glances up at me through his mask, and I feel like apologizing for the very unsexy safe-sex talk at a moment like this, but he says, “If only you were staying longer.”

I swallow hard, not wanting to think about that right now.

“If only.”

He rolls the condom on, and I dig my heels into him, holding on tightly as he slowly pushes deeper and deeper inside.

I gasp, and then my gasp turns into a moan, and then I’m trying to catch my breath as all the air leaves me and all I can feel is him. My hands grab the back of his neck tightly as he licks up the length of my throat. He sucks and moans just below my ear as his hands cup my breasts, pinching at my nipples, and his cock thrusts in again and again.

“You’re so hot, so tight,” he whispers hoarsely. “So perfect for me. How are you so perfect for me?” He draws out slightly and drives back inside, pushing me harder against the glass. Every cell in my body is dancing with excitement and pleasure, and my heart is beating so fast I’m afraid it might run away and never come back.

He pumps into me again, arching his hips up, his cock so thick and stiff, filling every inch of me. I can feel his ass flex against my legs as he thrusts deeper and harder, intense and primal. His mouth is wet and hungry as it ravishes my neck, and I feel so strangely powerful right now, like he would do anything for me, like he’s a slave for my pleasure.

Our rhythm picks up the pace, and even though I’m concerned about the glass, I don’t care if anyone is watching. All I care about is him, this man in the mask who is pumping into me, wild in his lust and lost to his desire.

He grunts with another long, hard thrust, and I’m calling out his name.

“My name has never sounded so good,” he says hoarsely as he continues to rut into me, the sweat from his brow dripping onto my tits. “Don’t stop.”

“You don’t stop,” I warn him just as his hand slips to my clit and he presses his thumb there, rubbing with each thrust. “Oh God, especially not now.”

Even though I’m closer to coming now than ever, and when I come, it’ll all be over.