FOR LEELEE
Parisian Love.
I smiled at the barista as he handed me two steaming cups of take out coffee in a cardboard carry tray.
" Merci beaucoup" I said in French that was still heavily tinged with an American accent. I was getting better every day but there was no way anyone would mistake me for a native Parisian.
"De rien", replied the young man who gave me a timid smile as he handed over my change and the tray. I would bet ten bucks that he was a student doing cafe work to support himself while he studied. He just had that look about him.
Then again, maybe not. I mean look at me - I wasn't the typical looking student, yet study is exactly what took up most of my days. And my nights. In fact, most of my time lately, I thought with a growl as I exited the cafe.
Which is why I was now making my way to the hospital with coffee and a small picnic bag of goodies. I was meeting l'amour de ma vie for lunch.
Lately, we had both been so inundated with studies and work shifts that we'd barely seen each other, let alone had any time for us. And damn it - I missed him. In every way possible.
We'd been here ten months now, living in a small apartment in the heart of the Latin Quarter; a gorgeous old one-bedroom with loads of charm and character but lacking in size. At least, compared to our old place in New York. Still, it was our new home and I was getting used to it, slowly but surely. Vin...err, Adam was more acclimatised to it than me, telling me that compared to living in a warehouse for ten years, this place was a cinch. Not as nice as my our old place, true, but still a cinch. As long as he was with me he could live anywhere, he'd tell me often - the big mush, I thought with a small smile.
He might be big and scary sometimes but he was the biggest romantic underneath all that muscly manliness. And I loved that about him.
Just one of the many things I loved about him.
As I walked the short distance across the road to the Hopital Cochin, the breeze flirted with the short flowy hem of my summer skirt, swishing it across my bare knees. It was our first summer in the city and now that I wasn't on the force and didn't need to dress like a cop, I could wear strappy heels and flimsy skirts anytime I wanted without having to worry about where to hide my gun. Because there was no gun to hide.
When we'd arrived here, we'd quickly established between us that Vincent...ummm, Adam, would get into medicine again - made easier by our new identities that made him a doctor and me a cop (thanks,JT) but I went back into law. Which meant going through an accelerated law degree because my decade-old law studies and qualifications weren't recognised here. By accelerated, I mean two full years.
Which then meant hours and hours of study. Together with his own long shifts at the hospital, we had been really busy settling into our new life right from the get-go. But lately, it had been ten times busier thanks to a staff shortage that kept him at the hospital more often than he was home. And when he was home, he was sleeping or I was studying... And well... Yes, I missed my husband.
As I made my way through the automatic glass doors of the entrance, I could see Vin...dammit, Adam, talking to another doctor down at the end of the west corridor. Even after all this time together, he still made me catch my breath whenever I saw him. My heart would thud hard at my ribs, just as it did now and I knew that he always caught that with his beast senses.
He turned his head towards me and a slight smile played across his lips as he watched me walk towards him, only half paying attention to his colleague, the overhead lights glinting against his dark hair.
I admit that I love how he looks at me; how he watches me with that heat always at the back of his gorgeous hazel eyes. You know the look - THAT look that just melts your bones, your resistance and your panties. He'd always had that ability and it was stronger every year we were together. And even though his eyes weren't golden right now, it was as if I could see that flame there, deep in his eyes, just waiting to flare.
His work colleague nodded and turned to walk away while Adam thanked him in his own accented French and a mutual "Á demain". As he turned back to me, I gave him a little smile as I approached, enjoying the slide of his gaze as he ran it over my skirt and loose white camisole, lingering on my bare legs and strappy blue heels.
It was the first really warm day that warranted such a skimpy outfit and I could see that he was thoroughly enjoying my les habits when his tongue came out to wet his bottom lip.
Good. That's what I was hoping for. Not that I needed particular clothing to excite my lusty husband, but hey, a little feminine treat for him now and again is always a good thing, right?
Last night I'd already been asleep when he'd snuck quietly into bed after pulling a double shift. Then was gone again before I'd even fully woken up, kissing me hurriedly as he told me to stay in bed, there was some emergency and he had to get to work earlier than planned. It was a Saturday so no school for me but also no V...Adam. He'd sent me a text mid morning asking for a lunch date so I'd told him that I'd bring something and meet him there.
Now, as I reached my handsome hubby, he leaned over and kissed my lips, grabbing one of the coffees and taking a sip as he placed his free hand at the small of my back and led us further down the corridor.
"Ahh, ma magnifique épouse, N'as-tu pas l'air encore plus délicieuse que d'habitude aujourd'hui ?!" He asked in his gravelly voice.
"Tu dis juste cela seulement parce que je t'apporte du café" I teased.
I didn't care how badly he mangled the French language, it was worth it just to hear him speak the sexy words in his oh so sexy voice. Initially it had also been the source of much amusement for me, but when he used it in a romantic sense to get to me, to disarm me...well...I wasn't so amused anymore.
And he loved to use it against me.
We generally spoke English when alone but practised French as often as we could. Adam had worked especially hard to get the medical terminology right; spending hours and hours on it, to the point where even I could repeat the complex jargon. His conversational skills were vastly improved too so he didn't need interpreters at work any more.
He'd caught up to my French-speaking ability and surpassed it and I couldn't be more proud of him.
He quirked an eyebrow at me now and smirked as he said in English, "Honey, it's got nothing to do with the coffee. I happen to know exactly how delicious you are."
Knowing how he knew that, I blushed.
Funnily, English gave us privacy in this French hospital.
We reached the last door on the right side and he removed his hand from my back to open it and usher me inside. My hands were full of coffee and lunch and my purse and the moment the door was closed behind us, he put his coffee down on the bench running along the wall to my right, then took everything from my hands till they were free. Wrapping his arms tightly around me, he gathered me up against him tight and close and lay his face into my neck where he gave a big sigh.
I ran my hands over his white lab-coated muscular back. "Tired?", I asked quietly.
"Yeah," he mumbled against my neck.
Running one hand soothingly over his nape, I said "You need a good night's sleep". It seemed like weeks since he'd slept a full eight hours.
"I know. And I'll get one tonight. I've got the day off tomorrow, remember? I plan on doing nothing except sleeping and you."
He pressed a kiss against my neck, causing a small shiver to tingle over my skin then pulled up to press another against my lips. "I miss you," he groaned in complaint. "It's been forever since I made love with you".
He was peppering sweet and slow kisses seductively over my lips, a few over my cheeks then back to my mouth, drugging me with his taste and his sensuous lips.
"It's been three days," I thought I'd point out.
"A life time," he moaned, the kisses getting longer, hotter. My hands clutched him tighter, pressing closer as my skin shivered and warmed at the same time, a delicious contrast. His mouth was teasing mine mercilessly, tongue running along my bottom lip slowly as a frisson of heat slithered down my spine and sparked a fire in my core.
"You're right," I conceded with a breathy moan. "Too long."
And with that, one hand left my waist, reaching for the lock on the door at my back. I moaned when I heard the lock click in place, excitement flaring at the risk we were about to take.
But, Vincent's mouth...no, dammit...Adam's mouth claimed mine fully, tongue sweeping inside to curl and stroke mine and completely shatter any chance of sensible thinking. He kissed me with devastating thoroughness, hard yet soft, his hunger as deep, as undeniable as mine and my blood sizzled with want.
Still, I tried to remind him... "What about your coffee? It'll go cold..." His hands were sliding over my back and hips, mouth dragging along my jaw.
"Screw the coffee. I'd rather have you," he ground out before biting my earlobe and making my eyes cross with lust.
My hands were sliding over him, one in his silky hair, the other over his muscled chest. As much as I loved him wearing his doctor's coat, I wished I could touch his skin right now.
Our mouths crashed into each other again and latched on tightly as he began walking backwards, taking me with him until the back of his knees met the sofa situated against the wall behind him.
A big charcoal gray sofa that looked plenty big enough for the two of us.
Not letting go, he sat himself down, dragging me with him until I was on his lap, knees bracketing his hips on the plush cushions. His arms crushed me to him fiercely, my arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders as we kissed wildly, three days of abstinence fuelling the flame of desire, sparking and firing in every corner of our bodies.
I could feel my body liquifying, my panties getting damp as heat pooled low in my belly. My feminine muscles clenched, a deep spasm that desperately missed my lover's touch.
He'd always had this affect on me - burning me from the inside out with kisses alone, my body ready to explode in orgasmic bliss before he'd even laid a finger on me. And he knew it. Said he smelt my body and it drove him crazy.
His hands slid under my loose top, palms cupping my boobs as his thumbs found my tight nipples and rubbed hard circles over them before frantically searching for the bra hooks. The moment he had the front enclosure undone, my camisole was shoved up and his mouth was sucking me hard. I threw back my head, groaning at the sensation his deep tugs of my nipple were having at my womb. My hips undulating against his, I ground myself onto his erection, and he pushed back, his thrust hitting me right on my clit and sending wave upon wave of scorching fire along my skin. One hand delved into my cascading hair to hold my nape while his fingers tweaked and flicked my other nipple.
"Oh God..." I groaned, desire cleaving at my body in hard painful throbs. He always did this to me - reduced me to a quivering mass of needy flesh. Whether he was making love to me, tender and slow, or screwing me so hard that my back teeth were rattling, it was always with love and lust and need all spinning crazily around my system, his system till we exploded in seismic ecstasy. My husband, my lover, my everything - he brought to me a level of passion deep,deep within my soul that I'd never known before he came into my life. The connection, the bond between us was so strong, so elemental and raw not just emotionally or spiritually but physically too - a connection that was based in true love, true acceptance for all that we were, beast and human alike. His inner animal echoed within my soul, a living breathing manifestation of my feminine core and a deeply loved part of this beautiful man, my beautiful man.
His teeth tugged at my nipple, biting oh so good and his hands fell to my knees on either side of him, sliding up along my thighs and taking my skirt with him until he reached my butt, wrapping his big hands around my cheeks and groaning roughly when he realised I was wearing his favourite kind of panties.
"Jesus, Cat..." He moaned as his fingers clutched and squeezed, fingers tracing over the full stretch lace of my boy-shorts. "Lemme see, baby..."
I leaned back and he did too, my nipple falling from his wet mouth, the camisole half falling back over my bare breasts. His hands moulded my butt as I raised up onto my knees and took hold of my hem, sliding it up slowly over my thighs, higher and higher, while he rested his head against the cushion and licked his lips in anticipation, watching my every move.
As my skirt passed my crotch, exposing the lacy white front of my tiny tiny v-front shorts with the tell tale patch of wetness, his eyes flashed golden for a moment, nostrils flaring as he dragged in a shuddering breath. I loved when his eyes changed in these moments - my inner sheath clenching in response to his wild lust. I liked the v-front because it was my homage to Vincent and he loved that his V pointed right at my womanly folds.
And that it showed my butt off to perfection, according to him.
His breathing accelerating, eyes burning into mine, he ground out in a voice as harsh as gravel: "I don't wanna ruin another pair...the lingerie shop is gonna get suspicious...get 'em off, baby...NOW."
His commanding tone weakened my knees, hiking my desire to a keen edge as his hands joined mine in the desperate race to get them off quickly and smoothly - not an easy task as I was still wearing my pretty blue heels.
He stuffed the lace into his lab coat pocket before pulling me back onto him, crashing his mouth over mine and kissing wildly, both of our hands now frantically unzipping and unbelting him. That done, I dug my hand into his boxer briefs and wrapped my fingers around his pulsing shaft. I knew every inch of his body; my hands, my mouth, lips and tongue having explored him endlessly and I knew every inch of his hardness - he was gorgeous - thick and long, a glorious nine inches of velvety soft skin over solid steel.
The need to have him inside, to impale myself on him till he reached my very womb was pushing me to hurry, hurry. We both moaned as I guided him to my slick entrance and with a sudden hard thrust upward, his hands on my hips pulling me down, he was buried to the hilt, filling me, stretching me. Throbbing sensation burst through my entire body with lightening force and my scream of delight was smothered by his hungry mouth.
It should have been the need to be quick and discreet - given where we were - that fuelled our passionate frenzy but it wasn't that at all. It was the never ending, loving lust we had for each other, the desire that never waned that took over our bodies and left us grappling for sanity.
His hands were everywhere as I began riding him, guiding my hips for a moment only to race all over me, trying to find my heated skin wherever he could. His belt buckle was hitting my thighs with each thrust but that just added to my pleasure. His mouth sucked hard on one nipple, tongue lashing at the peak; fingers tweaking and pulling at its twin before reaching between us to thrum my clit and drive my body closer to the edge, the pain and pleasure immense as it spiralled tighter and tighter. My hips thrust faster as I gasped breathlessly, his fingers playing my body like the maestro he was.
"Oh God, oh God, oh yes...mmmmm...more...oh..." I was trying to be quiet but he knew the closer I got, the louder I got.
My body churned faster and harder, inner muscles weeping with slick heat and his hand came up to clamp over my mouth, knowing I was nearly there, just a little more...his fingers pinched my clit and his teeth bit my nipple gently...
And like a bomb detonating, my climax hit hard, sensation exploding through every nerve and muscle, hands clutching the sofa cushion for dear life as my belly quivered in exquisite delightful pain and I screamed into my husband's smothering palm.
His hardness throbbed within me, holding still while my kitty muscles clenched and milked him over and over, the release shuddering down my spine as his tongue licked gently at my nipple, soothing.
The moment the last quiver slithered over his burning velvet skin, one hand grasped my nape, the other wrapped around my waist and he swung me on to my back against the plush fabric of the couch, sliding out of my grasping flesh.
Placing one hand on the sofa back, hooking the other under my knee, he tossed my leg over his shoulder, holding tight to the cushions as he slammed back inside me, not letting me catch my breath before relentlessly pounding a hard slick rhythm that sent my excitement soaring as he took me - over and over and over - thrusting deep, so deep, his skin scorching hot, his length and thickness stretching me, filling me, loving me.
I held onto his nape as the force of his thrusts shook my body, our eyes clinging, the soul connection tangible as we watched each other, his eyes a gorgeous shade of hazel with pupils so black and dilated that I could see the flame of gold deep within them.
Each powerful thrust sparked my satiated body into catching alight again, the friction of our wet and slippery skin sending rivers of heat flooding through my veins, stealing my breath and tripping my heart over itself.
Have I mentioned that I love my husband making sweet love to me but I loved it just as much when he screwed me so hard my teeth rattled?
I did?
It's worth repeating.
As he pushed me higher and higher, my moans and pleas fell unheeded from my parted lips, my breathing ragged.
"Oh please...oh...baby...dear God! "
He responded by driving harder, faster, growling "I love you, Catherine. Come for me...come..." And with that, he slammed to his hilt and froze, muscles clenched tightly as his orgasm, the beautiful pulsing liquid heat of his release deep inside my clasping sheath, triggered my own and once again, I screamed in agonised pleasure.
"Oh God Vincent...!"
Immediately realising how damn loud I was, I clamped both my hands over my mouth and screamed my climax into my palms, wide eyes still clinging to his as ecstasy tightened and twisted across his face.
We were each other's anchor in that moment of mutual release, holding onto each other as pleasure and pain rocked our bodies, shaking our souls yet flooding our hearts with a love so powerful, so eternal that it staggered in its intensity.
Long, long moments later, the shudders decreasing, he collapsed on to me, his face buried in my neck as my shaking arms circled his broad shoulders, wishing I could touch his naked skin. I could never get enough of him.
Never.
We lay there tangled, clothes askew, heels still hitched behind his back, the strappy blue leather glinting in the overhead light and making me giggle. His breath blew against my skin as he caught his breath and he too gave a laugh. But not at my heels, I'm betting.
I suspected that I would have a belt buckle shaped indentation on my thigh, too.
"Jesus, I love you, Isabelle," he said in his oh so sexy deep voice, emphasising my French name. "But I adore making Catherine loose her mind." He kissed my neck then pulled back to meet my eyes, smirking at my lack of control.
That was another thing he liked doing to me a lot - making me forget to use Adam instead of Vincent - especially at times like this. But that's okay because he had the same problem.
I laughed at him and his smirky-ness and his eyes softened as he gently brushed my hair out of my eyes.
"Je t'aime. Sans fin et pour toujours. Peu importe quel est ton nom". he whispered, making me melt and sigh. I really had no defence when he was charming this way. And he knew it too, the beast.
"And I love you endlessly and forever, too" I replied, laying a hand on his cheek. He leaned into the caress as he always did then a frown came over his face.
"What?" I asked him.
"Think the coffee is still warm?" And with that he was up and off me, untangling our limbs and dropping a big smooch on my lips before sitting up and tucking himself away, zipping and belting while I fixed my bra underneath my camisole and straightened my skirt.
I was just about to ask for my panties back when he exclaimed "Aha! Yes! Still pretty warm." He was at the bench already, gathering our lunch.
He turned back to me with our coffees and the picnic bag of goodies, distracting me with his boyish joy at finding the brew still hot enough to drink. His relief was amusing but considering how tired he must be from the lack of sleep and err...lunchtime rendezvous, shall we call it... I could understand his caffeine craving.
He brought everything over, sitting himself beside me and delving immediately into the bag to bring out the huge sandwiches I'd made him - his favourite turkey and avocado which I'd become a big fan of. Handing me mine first then attacking the plastic surrounding his, he'd taken a giant bite before I'd even found the edge of the clear wrap.
Smiling indulgently at him as he wolfed down his food - you'd think he hadn't eaten in months - I was glad I'd made several. But, of course, I knew my husband; I knew his...appetites...and they were fierce.
We spent the rest of his lunch break eating, talking about everything and anything and enjoying just being together. We laughed when we realised that we'd forgotten to unlock the door, wondering if anyone had in fact tried to get in and we'd been too occupied to notice or care.
I left him with a lingering kiss and a promise to not study too hard this afternoon. As long as he promised to not overdo it at work and come home at a normal hour, if possible.
It wasn't until I was striding my way back across the street and a gust of breeze shot its way around my skirt hem and up my thighs that I realised he still had my lacy white boy shorts tucked in his lab coat pocket.
My eyes popped open wide in shock before I burst into a giggle.
I wondered if he remembered that he had them or if he'd mistakenly end up pulling them out in front of a patient or a colleague. I laughed aloud at that thought. Knowing my husband, if that DID happen, he'd just bask in the accolades and teasing.
The beast.