J.C. and the Bijoux Jolis: The Rousseaus #3 (The Blueberry Lane Series Book 14) (19 page)

As the heel of his palm pressed down on her soaked mound, she writhed in pain-pleasure and screamed out in her first orgasm, the muscles deep inside of her body convulsing as he finished loving her breasts for now. Using both hands to pull her panties away from her pussy, he raised her legs over his head and threw the damp fabric on the floor.

Leaning forward, he parted her lips with his fingers and dipped his head, licking her clit in one long, sustained stroke. She spread her legs wider, and he rested his hand on her thigh to keep them apart, nuzzling the hard, bright-red clit with his nose before sealing his lips over her. Flicking his tongue out over the sensitive skin, she started rolling her hips into his face, the muscles of her stomach undulating in waves as she rocked into his mouth. Leaning back, he flattened his tongue and licked slowly from the opening of her sex to her clit, lapping at the slick, throbbing skin until she started humming, whimpering, moaning, and finally crying out again, her fingers tearing at his hair and her hips bucking as she orgasmed for the second time.

Pressing his palm back over her spasming clit, he slid up her body, claiming her mouth with his, the taste of her juices mixing between them as her tongue tangled mindlessly with his.

“Fuck, this is hot,” he groaned, slipping two fingers into her drenched sex and hooking them back against the wall, his fingertips stroking her still-trembling flesh. “Come for me again, baby. Three times.”

“I can’t,” she whimpered, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as shocks and waves still rocked her body.

“Little and fierce,” he said, sucking her nipple back between his lips as he slid a third finger deep inside of her.

“Jean—Jean—Jean-Christian!” she screamed, her entire body flexing and releasing as she fell over the edge of bliss for the third time.

He smiled as he watched her face, the way her neck extended back, the black of her hair buried in the snow white of the pillow as her fingers clenched the comforter. Withdrawing his fingers gently, he kissed her stomach before sliding off the bed. He leaned forward to unzip her short, black skirt and tugged it down her legs, dropping it to the floor and leaving her naked on the bed, riding out her orgasm as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it to the floor. He toed off his mocs, and his jeans and boxers followed until he was as naked as she.

His cock stood straight up, waiting for its chance to sample what his fingers and lips had already tasted…and normally, he’d drag his partner to the edge of the bed, steady her hips with his hands and fuck her senseless at this point in the evening…because, hey! It was his turn now, right?

But this was Libitz, not anyone else, and it didn’t occur to him to slide into her body without making sure she was present and ready, because he wanted her looking directly into his eyes the next time she came. He wanted—no, he
needed
—to know that everything that was happening in his heart was also happening in hers. So he slid back onto the bed and lay down on his side next to her, gathering her softly shaking body into his arms and pressing his lips to the back of her beautiful neck.

This is Libitz
, he thought, holding her tighter as her body relaxed, melting into his.
This is love.

***

Though she had been with more men than she could count on her fingers and toes, she had never experienced the sort of mind-blowing, overwhelming pleasure she’d just been offered by Jean-Christian. He was a master of the female form, playing her body like a Juilliard-trained virtuoso. She’d never been with anyone who’d made her come so fast, in such awesome waves of abandonment, her only focus the crest of the next surge, her only anchor the man who so lovingly attended to her body.

And now, despite the raging hard-on pressed against her back, he held her tenderly in his arms, his hands flat on her stomach, under breasts that were almost too sensitive to be touched, his legs bent into hers like a spoon.

He must be hurting like hell
, she thought, her smile growing as she opened her eyes, gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows, and found that it was twilight now,
and yet he’s lying here beside me, waiting until I’m ready.

If she hadn’t felt such immense joy, she would have wept for this man who was changing right before her eyes to become a man she wasn’t sure she deserved but would cherish for as long as he let her.

Turning in his arms, her tender breasts making her whimper as the hair on his chest rasped lightly against them, she looked into his eyes.

“Well…?” he asked.

“That’s never happened to me,” she confessed.

“Multiple orgasms?”

She grinned at him. “Not three.”

“So you’re saying I’m the first?” he asked, looking cocky.

“Yep,” she said, “that’s what I’m saying.”

“Want to know a secret?” he asked.

She nodded.

“We’re only halfway done.”

“Is that right?” she asked.

He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Oh, yeah. My goal is at least six before tomorrow.”

Her hands were flat on his chest, but now she skimmed one down over the ripples of his abs, tracing half of a pronounced
V
of muscle from his hip to his pelvis, finally brushing her fingers lightly over his straining cock and resting them there.

“Number four’s all you,” she said, using her other hand to push him onto his back.

“You don’t have to…,” he said as she pressed kisses to his chest, moving lower with each touch, her fingers wrapping around his velvet steel to stroke it up and down. “Ah…baby…,” he groaned.

When she reached his stomach, she repositioned herself between his legs, crouching over him with her ass in the air, and bent her head to lick the tip of his cock.

“Fuuuuuck,” he hissed as she opened her mouth and slid her lips from his tip to the base, one hand still clutching him tightly, the other playing with his heavy balls like marbles.

“Soon,” she answered, taking him throat-deep again.

His hands found their way to her head, his fingers threading through her hair, though neither guiding nor forcing her head, which bobbed as she licked and sucked, tracing a vein along one side of his shaft with her tongue before licking the drops of salty pre-cum from the glistening top.

He groaned, sliding his hands to her face and stilling her movements. “I don’t want to come without you.”

“Yes, you do,” she contradicted him, trying to lean forward to take him in her mouth again.

“No, baby,” he said. “I want to be with you. I want…”

She stopped fighting him and sat back on her haunches, looking into his face. “What?”

He threw an arm over his eyes. “I feel like a kid.”

She shimmied up his body, straddling his chest and pushing at his arm. “Tell me.”

“I want…” He searched her eyes, then said, “…I want to watch you. I want to be, you know, looking at you.”

“You want to watch me come?”

He nodded. “While I’m inside of you.”

And suddenly it occurred to her that it was possible—just possible—that he’d never done so before. That he’d always closed his eyes, or looked away, or just not met his partner’s eyes while fucking her. And here, now, with her, he wanted to change that.

Reaching for his cock, she held it firmly, positioning herself over the tip before sinking down slowly, so very slowly, onto his hardness. Sheathing it within her. And holding his eyes all the while.

“Lib,” he gasped, his voice strangled.

“Look at me,” she said, feeling the walls of her sex stretch to accommodate his thickness. She looked down at her pelvis, at the place where they were joined so intimately, so completely. “Look at us.”

His almost-black eyes flicked down to where his cock disappeared into her body before trailing slowly back to her eyes. He put his hands on her hips and she moved up, then down, sliding her body on his cock, taking him deep before arching up again. As he pulled her hips forward, she leaned over his chest to kiss him and her clit rubbed flush against his pubic bone, which massaged her tight, throbbing nub. She found his lips with hers as she continued to grind against him, his tongue swirling around in her mouth as a fourth orgasm started building low in her belly.

She leaned back and he sat up, wrapping his arms around her and looking deeply into her eyes as he thrust upward, tighter and faster, the tip of his cock rubbing her inner wall and making her moan with pleasure. Her head started to fall back, but he reached behind her neck, forcing it upright.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he demanded. “Don’t look away from me. I want to see you, Libitz…I want to…”

She panted in tandem with his thrusts, her breasts rubbing against his chest, tears welling in her eyes as the whirling in her belly exploded, sending fissures of heat throughout her body and making her muscles convulse with wave after wave of pleasure. And all the while, she stared into his eyes. Let him see what he did to her, how she felt about him, that he was her first in so many ways tonight.

And a moment later, when he found his own release, crying out her name like a prayer, she saw the same feelings in his eyes as he fought to keep them open and focused on her. She saw love. She saw passion. She saw forever.

She collapsed against him, limp and sated, her arms around him and his around her as their bodies rocked and trembled against each other. Resting her cheek on his shoulder, she heard him whisper it in her ear: the word “love”…over and over and over again like a litany, so softly it could have been a dream.

“Love, love, love, love love love love…”

It was the thing that had made tonight different.

It was the thing that had made tonight perfect.

***

Hours later, after making love a second time, ordering dinner, and taking a shower together, they lay side by side on their stomachs, cheeks on their own pillows, facing each other. They’d fucked and they’d eaten, and now they were closer and closer to falling asleep, but not before they told each other silly stories about past lovers who’d meant nothing, who could never compare with what they’d discovered in one another’s arms.

“Shut up!” she exclaimed, hitting him on the shoulder.

“It’s true,” he insisted. “I dumped Alice for Bree.”

“So that’s why they hate you!”

“That’s why
Alice
hates me.”

Prim and proper Alice Story. It was the day she’d called him her “boyfriend” that had been the nail in the coffin. He’d gone home that weekend and run into Bree, who, not knowing about Alice, had been only too happy to distract him.

“Why does Bree?”

“Bree was friends with Alice, so she wasn’t thrilled to find out that I’d stopped hanging out with Alice to hang out with her. I might not have volunteered that information.”

“So Bree felt disloyal to her friend?”

“I guess that was part of it.” He shrugged. “But I couldn’t give her what she wanted. She wanted all of me. I could only give her a fraction.”

“Maybe it felt serious to her?” asked Libitz.

“I guess. But I never gave her reason to believe it was.” He reached out and cradled her face. “You’re the only one I’ve ever offered my heart to.”

“I know,” she said, rotating her head just slightly to kiss his palm. “And I’ll keep it safe. I promise.”

He felt it again, deep inside—that burst of rightness he felt whenever he was with Libitz. It made him feel grateful and strong, and he loved her for it. He couldn’t imagine how Neil must have felt today, finding out that he wouldn’t have a future with her. Poor bastard.

“How’d Neil take the news?”

Her face clouded over, and she dropped his eyes for a second. “Not good.”

A protective rush of emotion made him reach for her, rolling both of them to their sides so he could wrap his arms around her. “What happened?”

She shrugged. “He was upset. Hurt. Angry.”

“He said things?”

She nodded.

“Fuck, baby. I’m sorry about that.”

Her face brightened, and she leaned forward to kiss him slowly, tenderly, their tongues dancing for a moment before she pulled away. “I’m not.”

“I’m going to make you happy, Libitz Feingold,” he promised.

“You already do,” she said. Suddenly her eyes widened. “Hey! Earlier, when you texted me, you said you found out something else! What was it?”

He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so she was draped over his chest. She propped her elbows on his pecs and smiled down at him.

“I almost forgot,” he said.

“Come on! Tell me!”

“What’ll you give me if I do?” he asked, grinning at her.

She arched her back, rubbing her pussy against his hip. “Whatever you want.”

“I called the art dealer in Marseille about the twins and found out that one of them is still alive. She’s ninety-five. I called her nursing home and asked if I could talk to her. They said I’d have to come in person. I’m going to Marseille this weekend,” he said in a rush, using one breath. “Let’s fuck.”

She started laughing, her breasts rubbing against his chest as she shook her head. “You’re an ass.”