The view of the Eiffel tower from the balcony was breathtaking, and she thought so. The wind whipped her hair around softly, her bright eyes staring out at a city alight with street lamps. She took in a breath, the sweet smell of an iced wine wafting to her nose. Humming, she turned around to find him holding two glasses. “Buvons,” he whispered, handing her a glass.
Lifting it to her scarlet lips, she raised a brow, “What does that mean?” She took a sip, shivering as the icy cold liquid spread chills through her body.
“Let us drink,” he replied, taking a few sips of his own.
She trailed her finger along the rim of the glass, the crystal singing one quivering harmonious note. “How do you say…kiss me?” she asked, a playful but happy look in her eyes, giddy in the romance the city gave her.
“M’embrasser,” he purred, the slur of his foreign speech washing over her in tingles.
She repeated it to the best of her abilities, nearly perfect, but it wouldn’t have mattered, because he was already setting down his wine glass on the table and bringing his lips to hers, indulging in the sweet taste the wine left on her mouth. The two tastes mingled as he kissed her, which only intoxicated him more.
They broke away, almost spilling their glasses of wine. “Oops,” she muttered, tripping into his arms over her heels.
He nearly spilt the wine again on her form hugging dress the color of a raspberry. “Love, be careful,” he chuckled, catching her hips before she toppled to the ground.
She blushed, her cheeks even more red with her dress reflecting back up to her face. “Sorry.”
Unable to convince himself to remove his hands from her hips, he traced circles with his pointer finger through the shimmering fabric. He closed his eyes, forgetting about everything else and getting lost in the feel of her, the smell…the taste still lingering on his lipstick-smudged lips.
Getting a good look at him in the dim light, she giggled, realizing she had smeared her luscious red lipstick all over his face. She brought a gentle thumb to wipe it off, and his eyes fluttered opened, watching her intently as she attempted to free him of her mark. It must have been the way she peered up at him through her long lashes, or maybe the slow, unintentionally sensual touch at his lips, but whatever made him spark, it ignited so quickly, dousing him in desire-hungry flame.
He ran one of his hands through her hair, using his kind grip to pull her into another kiss. His lips moved smoothly against hers, and she had to set down her glass while engaged in the kiss, stained with her lip print. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling her body flush with his, which was heating up rapidly as they partook in their passionate, tender kiss.
The bed was close to the balcony, and it wasn’t hard for him to carry her to the bed without breaking their contact. His hand traveled from her knee to the hem of her dress, and he shuddered at the feel of her smooth legs under his fingers. She moaned ever so slightly, biting her lip and letting out a small, “Hmph,” of a giggle.
He got a glimpse of the light blue panties she had on under her dress and he had to fight back the urge to tear the dress off of her. “I like those,” he commented. “Did you get those when you got the dress?”
“Oui,” she slurred, French so smooth on her tongue.
Growling, he groped under her to find the zipper. Finding it, he flipped them around, giving her a false sense of dominance, but she wouldn’t have that…
She guided his hands above his head, pinning them and giving him a warning glance, as if to say, “Don’t touch.” She slowed their kisses, bringing out their kisses for as long as she could. Easing his shirt off of him, she slowly worked him out of all his closing, teasing him into a panting, moaning state.
“Okay…” she hummed. “Now you can take off my dress.”
Capturing her lips again, he took his time in unzipping her dress, the final click the only noise ringing in the air as he slipped her out of it. His hands automatically went to her breasts, teasing through the fabric of her undergarments. She moaned lightly, her innocent sounds becoming deeper and brought out as he took it off and pleased her that way.
The grayish-purple sheets were pulled above them, and business got dirtier…naughtier as groans grew louder, quivers racking harder down their spines, and bodies moving in and out of position in the city of romance…
Before she slipped into sleep, he muttered, “Je t’aime.”
She smiled, eyes closed, not having to ask him what that meant.
