Wishing Well(66)

How the hell was I going to wiggle my way out of this one without setting him off?

“We should go to the couch first and then figure out what to do.”

“D’accord .”

I blinked, smiling when I reminded him, “I don’t speak French.”

His eyes rolled. “It means okay.”

Before I could push out of my seat he stood from his and rounded the table. I won’t lie and claim I didn’t brace myself for a sudden attack. But instead of forcing himself on me, or lifting me from my seat to sit me on the table to fuck me silly, Maurice simply offered me his hand. My eyes widened at the gesture.

Taking it, I let him help me from my seat and lead me to the couch where he sat on one end and I took the other.

This is going well , I thought.

Famous last words.

Before I could come up with a subject for us to talk about, Maurice grabbed me by the ankles and tugged me across the couch. Wrapping my legs around his waist, he deftly maneuvered his body on top of mine, his hands pinning my shoulders to the cushions as his mouth came down to bite the tip of my breast from over my shirt and bra.

“Maurice!” I cried out, but softened my voice to remember how he’d reacted this morning when I’d yelled at him. “I thought we were going to talk.”

The tip of his nose was tracing the line of my neck. “Then talk, if that’s what you want to do. But it’s not what I want to do.”

Teeth sank down on the lobe of my ear and my body arched against his. There was no mistaking how excited he was, the ridge of his erection was pressing between my legs. Despite the shudder of my body and the racing beat of my heart, I managed to respond, “That’s not how talking works.”

His chest vibrated with a deep growl, dark laughter filtering past his lips. Hot breath slid down my neck to brush my shoulder when he answered, “Then don’t talk and I’ll fuck you instead.”

Before I could utter a word in protest, his left hand moved to cover my mouth, while his right slid between our bodies to unbutton my pants. He’d managed to unfasten them, shove them to my knees and thrust a finger inside me before I could take my next breath.

Apparently, learning the cues of when a woman was interested in sex would have to happen on another day. At that point, there was no stopping him. Remembering the last time we’d been together, I also knew there was no possibility of this being soft and sweet. And as if spurred on by that thought, Maurice pulled away just enough to flip me so that my stomach was on the couch, lifting my hips so that I was on my knees, my legs still trapped by the pants bunched around them and my face pressed against the cushions when he planted a hand on my upper back to keep me from moving away.

I knew better than to fight, but I couldn’t help the squeal when he leaned over to bite down on my ass. More deep laughter as the sound of a zipper opening was a distinct note on the silence of the room.

The bite brought a memory to mind, but it was gone again as his cock thrust in my body, my mouth opening on a sensual moan the instant his width filled me. One of these days I was going to convince him to fuck me sweetly, but for now, I would submit to his whim and enjoy the ride.

As his hips thrust and he pushed himself deeper, his hands crept up the front of my shirt to push my bra up my breasts so that he could grip them possessively. Much taller than me he was able to bend over me, to press his mouth to my ear. His voice was a rough whisper when he said, “I think it’s funny that you were already wet. You didn’t actually want to talk, did you?”

I couldn’t find the strength to answer him, I was too busy trying not to explode from the rush of pleasure he was forcing through my body. Maurice may have not been skilled in regular communication, but the man had a gold medal in the area of sensual torture.

With every powerful thrust of his hips, his breath pulsed against my neck, and as my muscles tightened to grip him and pull his cock deeper, the sounds coming from his mouth became feral. He wasn’t simply fucking me, he was claiming me as his.

It was slightly embarrassing how quickly he made me come. And as soon as my body tightened with my release, Maurice thrust harder to find his own. It wasn’t long until our bodies were coming down from the moment, his erection still inside me as it softened.

I closed my eyes and listened to his rhythmic breathing, thinking that when I brought him dinner, I’d show him what it meant to be sweet.





CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE


After leaving Maurice at his desk and refraining from sneaking behind him to see what he did on the computer all day, I took a shower in my room and left the hotel to walk the streets of the city and think about everything that had occurred over the past few days.

Remembering the email I’d sent to my sister, I stopped in at the Internet cafe, paid the clerk for a half hour and pulled up my messages to see she’d answered me almost immediately. If I hadn’t been in such a bad mood when I sent the email, and if I hadn’t shut down the computer almost as soon as hitting send, I would have heard the tell tale ping of her response.

Opening the email, I laughed to see the first several lines written in all caps. Leave it to Meadow to find a way to yell at me from across an ocean.



“FINALLY! I WAS ABOUT TO HIRE AN INVESTIGATOR TO FIND OUT IF YOU ARE DEAD!!”



Reading through the long winded message, I discovered that Meadow was doing well in school even though she was only taking two classes at a time. Between the two of us, I’d been the more academically gifted, but not exactly the smartest when it came to common sense.