Page 36 of It Happened In Paris

The corner of her lips curled up. “Tough negotiator, Mr. Buchanan.”

“Mr. Buchanan?” I questioned, although I liked her saying it. My desire intensified, cock thick and greedy, straining against my zipper.

“Not fair you calling me cupcake. So yes. Mr. B, you get a nickname, too.”

God help me if those words didn’t fire me up. I claimed her lips, pouring everything I had into a single, deep kiss.

"You think you're pretty irresistible, don't you?" she teased against my mouth, sarcasm melting into desire.

“Nothing would make me happier than knowing you’ve wanted me from the start, Vivian,” I growled. I turned her body around to face the window. She gasped when I placed both her palms on the glass above her head. My hands trailed down her sides, then with one I gathered her hair to the side, giving me access to the back of her neck. I planted kisses there, her soft moans like music.

“Tell me you’ve wanted me.” I wouldn’t give up pursuing this. Yes, I was spoiled—if by spoiled it meant I’d do anything to keep her and make her mine.

My other hand caressed the front of her, palming her nipples through the fabric of her sweater. I skimmed down her torso landing at the apex of her thighs, not deterred by her gasp—and she didn’t stop me.

Through her leggings, I rubbed her heated center, her body squirming at my touch. She arched her ass against my cock her breath catching when she realized what I had waiting for her there. “Feel what you do to me? Tell me, Vivian. You’ve wanted me all this time. Say it,” I demanded.

“Oh, Richard… I have. I want you. Yes!” At last she let me in.

I let her hair go and snaked my arm around the front of her. I held her wrapped in my embrace, pressed against me, where I could claim her.

“Give Albany a good show, cupcake,” I dared her, reaching a hand under her sweater. I tugged down the cup of lace, kneading her breast. My fingers tweaked her nipple to a peak.

I shifted my fingers under the waistband of her leggings, into her panties. Skin on skin, her center hot as fuck. My fingers explored her slick seam, then strummed her clit. She cried out, grinding against my hand. Whatever friction she needed to achieve her first orgasm with me. First of many.

“I-I can’t believe we’re doing this here…” She moaned through her pants, fighting against her rising tide. “What if someone sees?”

“Let the world know how much I desire you. Come for me, Vivian.”

“Oh, God. It’s been so long?—”

“Use me then. Let yourself go and let me hear my name on your lips when you do.”

She clung to me tightly, her cries escalating from my relentless pursuit of her. As her breath hitched and then paused, she unraveled in my embrace, arching against me.

“Ooh, yes. Richard!” Her body became an earthquake, tearing down every last brick of the wall standing between us.

“You soaked my hand. Beautiful, baby,” I kissed her temple, nuzzling my face next to hers and giving her a moment’s rest while I sucked and tasted her sweet nectar from my fingers. When done, she twisted her head and kissed me, tasting herself on me.

Swaying with her in my arms, I peered out at the moonlit night, the stars above and the world below. All the worries about our daughter’s condition still existed, but tonight my focus was on giving Vivian all the tender care she needed, too.

I turned her back around. “I’ll be wanting more tastes of you later. But right now, I need you,” I gave voice to the greed yearning for her had created, and ground myself into her.

“I need you, too.” On her invitation, we staggered toward one of the bedrooms, frantically kissing and shedding clothestoward inevitable surrender. Her sweater joined my sweatshirt on the floor, while my belt clattered near the door.

We both kicked our shoes off, but her leggings turned into a walking challenge as I attempted to remove them on the way to the bed. I nearly tripped her while tearing them off. Only her black bra and panties remained untouched.

I paused so I could appreciate the view of the lacy things I’d purchased for her to wear. “I hope you never get tired of me calling you beautiful.”

All smiles, she fumbled with the zipper of my jeans, then her hands wandered under my t-shirt to help pull it off. She bit her lip, lazily crawling her fingertips along the contours of my muscles.

“I remember this view—you are one sexy man, Mr. B. In fact, according to all the nurses, you’re a man they’d like to F-U-C-K.”

I flinched from her tickles, chuckling, and grabbed her wrists. I pinned them behind her back, pressing her to me. “They’ll never get a chance. All I see is you. You’re it, Vivian. Remember? The perfect cupcake.”

“I’d like to trust you.” She kissed and sucked along my chest.

“Then do. I’ve wanted you from the moment we met. And something you should know. Whatever a Buchanan wants, they get.”

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