French Angel

VII. Chapter seven

"Spread your legs a little wider." Richard regarded Angélique's stance with a careful eye. In all honesty, it was rather hard for him to concentrate on their lesson. He should have of gotten used to her choice of clothing for their lessons, after all, it has been one whole moon since they started, yet each time - each hour - it seemed to be getting harder for him to not succubus to his desire.

Once again, his angel has taken him by surprise as she took off her pelisse, just like the very first lesson. Revealing black boots and deep red man trousers so tightly hugging her delicate legs.

Her white shirt, loosely hanging off her shoulders, was tucked in. From time to time, as Richard couldn't help but take notice of, her rosy peaks when they touched the fabric of her clothes and gave away a clear view on what is hiding underneath.

Angélique was oblivious to Richard's struggle as she focused on each of his commands and advises the first few lessons, however, as time went on, nor she was immune to their mutual attraction and became rather aware of his ever-so-present bulge. And truth be told... she relished, craved for such a reaction from him.

It did not help they exchanged more than innocent touches from time to time. Even their teasing had gone from light and careful play, to almost a competition between the two, of who could make the other feel more out-of-sorts.

Angélique found immense joy in their game as dull gatherings became brighter the moment, she felt him enter the room. Although; Angélique tried to keep him at arm's length, she also could not help her wandering eyes as they surveyed every inch of the handsome man every time, he came within eyes reach.

Today, he had a light stubble which gave him a deadly look, adding to his scare, he was sure to scare with just a gaze. If she didn't know any better, she'd say he was a pirate. A reflection of candlelight danced in his stormy orbs, making him appear warm and inviting, in spite of him standing two feet above her and with hands so large he would have no problem, had he desired, to tear her apart.

His black shirt hugged his lean torso and arms like a second skin. Angélique wanted nothing more than run her hands over those parts, confirming he was real and not some imaginary god-like creature. His trousers, equally black, were tight showcasing his strong legs consisting of pure muscles.

Angélique could not help but feel her sore belly muscle clench again, as a vision of the two of them flashed before her eyes. He was sitting under her as she was straddling his hips. Her small hands roamed over his delicious arms, shoulders, chest, and back. Her nails then burring in his muscles in utter pleasure.

One of his hands held her hip in a tight grip, she could almost feel the bruise it was surely leaving, he was helping her move. He was in control, even if he was under her, completely bare, with the most important part of his body deeply buried in her.

Other hand caressed her back as it made its way into her golden mane. As he gripped a handful of her hair, he tugged her head down, forcing her lips and tongue into an infinite soul-intertwining kiss.

Angélique was snapped back to the present by a large hand grabbing her hip. She sharply turned to the Duke. He was closer than she anticipated. Her lips mere breath away from his own. They held each other in a stronghold until both ventured lower. They stared at each other's lips.

Until then neither of them had acted upon their desires, but there was only so much a man or a woman could take until they burst into flames. Over the course of the schooling and tour guiding, Angélique and Richard had gotten close, yet was there enough trust to move forward, and not come to any harm? On either side?

"Is this a desire of flesh or heart, mon Seigneur?" Angélique asked, her voice shaky and unsure. She had a lot to lose. And so did he. But were they ready to catch on fire of desire?