When I'm With You Part IV Read Free Page B

to say anything or respond, his finger deftly burrowed between her labia. She cried out, her arousal sharp, immediate, and unexpected. Had he done that somehow, built tension in her sex without her being aware of it? He rubbed and circled and pulsed, and she had no choice but to lie there with her legs spread wide, her spirit split open, and take every bit of pleasure he offered her.
    She twisted her head on the pillow, desperate to see him while he touched her so intimately. Through several tendrils of hair, she saw him sitting at the edge of the bed, one knee on the mattress, his arm stretched between her thighs. With his other hand, he stroked his naked cock.
    She stared, transfixed, her arousal mounting exponentially. She’d never actually seen his cock before.
God
, he was so beautiful. His pajama bottoms were bunched below the protruding shaft, hiding his balls, but his cock was large and thick, the crown shaped like a fleshy, tapering mushroom cap. She recalled how succulent it had felt next to her lips and tongue. Her mouth watered. He stroked himself as he stared at his other hand moving between her thighs. She watched, transfixed. Something about her helplessness, her inability to touch him, somehow sharpened her desire until it cut at her.
    It was all too much. She dropped her head to the pillow as the pleasure crested and broke.
    â€œYes, that’s right,” he said gruffly from above her as she began to shake in delicious orgasm. “Now you’re beginning to learn what it means to submit to me.”
    He nursed her through her climax, his fingers agile and knowing in the slippery flesh. The entire time, she kept her gaze pinned to his big hand moving like a piston over his swollen cock, faster and faster.
    â€œLucien,” she cried out as he coaxed yet another climax out of her. He glanced at her face for the first time, both of his hands still moving . . . pleasuring them both. A convulsion went through his rigid facial muscles and she realized he was coming too. Jets of white semen shot onto his flat, ridged abdomen as he jacked himself with a forcefulness that both stunned and aroused her. She felt his gaze on her as she watched him ejaculate.
    It was an incredibly intimate, powerful experience.
    His hands slowed. Their soughing breaths cut through the silence. Eventually, he reached for some tissues on the bedside table and used them to mop up his emissions, his manner matter-of-fact. Arousal prickled at her sex once again, but her climaxes had been so powerful she was mostly utterly satiated. By the time he stood and released her restraints, she was a muscleless mass of limp flesh. She wanted to turn around and look at him when she felt him sit on the bed next to her, his touch reassuring on her back, but she was too overwhelmed with heavy, warm drowsiness.
    â€œAre you awake?” he asked quietly when he’d covered her, tucking the sheet firmly around her.
    She made an incoherent sound.
    â€œWe will do this every night at eleven thirty until your body learns when it’s time to rest and your mind learns to let go and relax. Do you understand?”
    She understood and was more than willing. It’d been a delightful, wonderful experience.
    Yes,
she attempted to say. How frustrating. She was having trouble moving her lips. They weighed far too much. Trying to say the word out loud was the last memory she had until morning.

Chapter Eight
    Four days later, Denise Riordan watched and instructed Elise as she put the finishing touches on a new dish they were doing for a special—smoked salmon terrine with mushrooms. Elise glanced up distractedly when the kitchen door swung open. She noticed Lucien’s singular form and started, cursing under her breath when she poured some aioli sauce on the table instead of the plate.
    â€œIt’s okay. Here,” Denise said, taking the sauce from her and handing her a towel. “It looks marvelous,” Fusion’s