Page 19 of Willows and Waterlilies

“Oh,” she grins, her eyes bursting open with glee, “what sort of things?”

“I’m not telling you,” I reply cheekily, just as the lift arrives. We begin to walk slowly toward the doors and wait for the space to clear before walking inside, very much as squashed as before. She’s relaxed, but I still hold her close, face-to-face.

“Why not?” she asks, sounding a little disappointed. I cup my hand around her cheek and kiss her, this time slowly and sensually, moving my tongue against hers like I want to move my hands against her body. She grips hold of my jacket, clutching me tight so I have no choice but to show her how aroused I am.

“Because I cannot,” I whisper when we pull apart for air. The other tourists blur into insignificance as I brush my knuckles over her jaw, to which she takes a deep inhale to steady herself. “But I can show you?”

At first, she doesn’t respond, just stares at me with wide eyes. In fact, I begin to panic, worrying that I’ve pushed it too far, too soon. However, before I can take it back, she nods her head with a small smile on her face.

“I’d like that,” she says, just as we touch down. She doesn’t appear to have noticed we are now back on solid ground, for her eyes remain firmly fixed on mine.

Ellie

We’ve talked the whole way back, and yet, now that we’re ascending to the top floor in an otherwise empty elevator, we’ve hit an awkward silence. That is to say, I have. Elijah looks as calm and collected as before, with his hands tucked behind his back and his eyes watching the numbers get higher and higher. Me? I’m a whole bag of nerves and anticipation. I haven’t let a man near me since Jonathan, and even then, I suspect my heart was never in it. In hindsight, I should have seen his strange behavior for what it was. The not seeing me for weeks at a time, the dining out in places outside of the city, the foray of impersonal gifts, as well as the sex that always took place at my apartment, and always had him leaving before morning. God, what an idiot I was!

Elijah looks like he could go either way – ultra charming but oh, so robotic (I’m talking missionary all the way) or rough and kinky. Personally, I’m holding out for the latter, especially after that kiss in Monet’s Garden. That kiss was anything but bland. If I had to compare it to underwear, for example, that kiss was the Victoria Secret of tongue action. Besides, he did say he knew when to leave the gentleman persona at the door.

The elevator suddenly comes to a halt with a bump and clatter of cables. I should have guessed he’d be staying in a hotel that was super pricey but super old too. This place is steeped in history, you can tell. I half suspect we’ll meet a few eighteenth-century ghosts on our way back, perhaps with their severed heads being carried underneath their arms.

“Penthouse,” Elijah declares with a small wink and a smirk that is already causing my panties to begin falling down.

“I expected nothing less,” I tease as I try my best to sashay out of the elevator and into the swanky interior of the hallway. Golds and reds as far as the eye can see, as well as one big, ornately decorated door to his room.

“Ellie,” he says as he grabs hold of my hand and pulls me gently toward him, with gentlemanly concern written all over his face. “Are you sure about this?”

“Aren’t you?” I ask, praying he doesn’t reject me like all the others.

“Surer than anything I’ve ever done before, however, you look a little nervous,” he says, though he still drops those beautiful blues down to my lips, looking as if he wants to devour them. “I want nothing more than to worship you, to act upon all my wicked fantasies about you, but out here, I am still a gentleman. I would never force myself on anyone who is not one hundred percent sure.”

“You sound like one of those classics you read for tips,” I tease, causing him to laugh softly at me.

“What I mean to say,” he whispers as he drops his forehead against mine, lacing his fingers with my own as he does so, “for this to work, you have to want me as much as I want you.”

“Now, that’s more like it,” I whisper before kissing him ever so gently on his parted, slightly panting lips. “Time to leave the gentleman at the door; show me naughty Elijah!”

I wiggle my brows flirtatiously at the same time as he grins with his teeth.

“You asked for it,” he says before releasing me so he can turn to open the door to his swanky Parisian pad.

He opens the door up wide, then takes hold of my hand and pulls me in behind him, where the nerves hit me hard. He keeps his hold on me the whole time, even when he moves back to close the door. Once the sound of the click goes, he pulls me back and up against the wall, caging me inside his much bigger body. I’m about to laugh, if only to release my nerves, when he grips my wrists together above my head and kisses me with such intensity, the giggle caught in my throat instantly turns into a girlish moan. His pelvis thrusts against my hips, revealing just how hard he is for this.

“This is going to destroy me, isn’t it?” I pant as his lips move down to my neck.

One of his hands releases my wrist to cup hold of my breast. He massages my flesh with a skill that tells me he is definitely a boob man.

“That’s the plan!” he gasps between his oral assault on my skin. I’m going to look like a teenager covered in hickies tomorrow, but right now, I positively do not care. “Anything you’re opposed to before I lose myself to your body? Say now, Ellie, or I’ll take whatever I can.”

“Er…erm…Jesus!” I moan as he moves his mouth down to bite at my pert nipple through my silk dress.

“We need to lose these clothes…immediately!” he declares as he spins me around to face the door and begins unzipping my dress. He does so with a much slower pace, as if taking his time to savor the motion. As soon as the fabric hits the floor, he whips off my bra with one hand and begins to pinch and squeeze my nipple with the other one. His pelvis is now up against my back, and his hardness pressing between my cheeks.

“Not there!” I gasp, even though I feel like I’d let him do anything right now. “No one has ever been there.”

“You realize that only makes me want to do it more?” he whispers, crouching down to pull away my panties so I am now only wearing a pair of nonsensical heels.

“Be that as it may, ne pas toucher (do not touch).” I smile against the wood of the door. “I’d only consider letting my husband touch me there.”

“I’ll remember that,” he smiles against my back, “perhaps on our honeymoon!”

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