Bound to You

Chapter 36

I woke the next morning expecting to find you in bed with me, keeping me warm, but instead, you were throwing things into my suitcase, which was sitting at the end of my bed.

"What are you doing?" I asked, pushing up onto my palms.

You grinned over at me and emptied my panty drawer into my suitcase. "Putting fresh clothes in your suitcase. I booked us a flight."

I blinked at you. "What the hell are you talking about?"

You dropped my empty drawer on the ground and crawled across the bed to me. You pushed me down into the sheets and kissed me, sprinkling kisses across my lips and nose and chin. I laughed, and you pulled back.

"Our vacation got cut short, and that's a tragedy. So I booked us a flight to Paris. And we have to get packed." You stood back up and started pulling dresses out of my closet, shoving them in without even bothering to fold them. I pushed up on my knees and reached out to stop you.

"Okay, okay, crazy person. I can pack for myself. Why don't you go make us some coffee?"

But your eyes were glued to my naked breasts, and before I knew it, you had one of my nipples between your teeth, and I was on the verge of coming.

We finally made it out of the apartment almost an hour later, me with a suitcase full of fresh clothes and you with two plane tickets in your hand that you'd used my roommate's printer to print out while she gave us dirty looks for waking her up in the middle of the night with our amorous activities.

In the middle of the day, like I'd just stepped into a fairytale, we were boarding a plane to France. You held my hand the whole way and wrapped your arms around me when I fell asleep on your shoulder and kissed me when we landed, in that sweet way that you did sometimes.

"Paris awaits," you said, helping me to my feet and when we stepped off the plane, I felt more free than I ever had before. I felt like we could walk around in the sun without having to hide. I felt like we could hold hands and kiss and do whatever we wanted without anyone judging us. No one was looking our direction. No one was judging us. No one was calling me a slut or you a pussy-chaser.

We could just be together.

"How exactly are you paying for this?" I asked when we stepped into the fancy lobby of a hotel in Paris. You could see the Eiffel Tower out the front windows. I didn't want to sound rude, but I knew the hospitals didn't pay you that much to work with them. I knew they paid you well, but five-star hotel in Paris well?

"My mother's paying for it," you said, showing the man at the front desk your ID and saying something to him low in French that made all the blood rush straight to my clit. God, that was fucking hot.

"You speak French?" I whispered to you.

You smiled down at me, like you knew what it was doing to me. "Oui."

"Your room keys, Mr. and Mrs. Warner."

We both turned to look at the smiling man behind the counter, and all the blood was thrumming through my veins hard at hearing myself called that. Mrs. Warner. God, I loved it. My skin was prickling, my fingers tingling.

If you were having the same reaction, you were hiding it well. You reached out and took the room keys from the man at the desk and took both of our suitcases in the direction of the elevator. You smiled at me and gestured for me to get into the elevator first. We rode up to the fifth floor in an elevator full of people, without looking at each other even once. We were the only ones who got off on our floor, and I followed you to the room, watched as you unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Inside, it was full degrees cooler, like the air conditioner had been forgotten about, and I smiled when I realized we could see the Eiffel Tower out the window still. I couldn't even believe this.

"This is beautiful," I said to you, but when I turned around, you were shutting the door and setting our suitcases aside. And then you reached out your hands for me, your eyes dark.

"What is it?" I asked, putting my hands in your outstretched ones, but you didn't say a word. You just spun me around, pushed me against the door, and kissed me. The world seemed to go dark for a minute as you reached under my dress and slipped my underwear off. You were completely silent as you lifted me against the door and then lowered me down on your naked cock.

"Holy fuck," I squeaked when you were all the way inside me, and I expected you to laugh the way you did every time I lost control of my mouth during sex.

But instead, you pressed your open mouth to mine, pulled all the way out of me and thrust all the way back in.

"I have never--" you said and then pulled out and thrust back in.

"-- in my life--" Thrust.

"--been as turned on--" Thrust.

"--as I was--" Thrust.

"--when he called you--" Thrust.

"--Mrs. Warner--" Thrust.

Your words sent sparks through my veins, and I smiled against your skin as you fucked me, slamming my hips against the door with every thrust. It was more fucking wonderful than I could have imagined.