Surrender

“Oh I promise,” he grunted, thrusting inside me.

My head rolled to the side as he took me with primal need. I tried to ball the silky comforter in my hands, but with every pump my body was climbing higher to the orgasmic peak Vaughn always promised.

A ragged breath escaped my lips as I begged for it harder and faster. I wondered who I had become in Paris. I didn’t know which way was up or down. I didn’t know whether to escape or lock myself in the suite with Vaughn for days. As he filled me with his massiv

e cock, I only wanted this. The kind of magical sex that made all the nightmares end. Sex that made me feel like I glittered and sparkled when I came. Sex that sealed our souls together. Forever.

“Ohh,” I cried as his finger flicked at my clit. It was the final push that torched a blaze under my skin.

Vaughn’s mouth covered mine in a frenzied kiss. Our tongues collided. The sweat dripped from his chest onto my breasts. We had lost our damn minds. We were lost in each other.

With another grunt he hilted himself inside me. “Fuck, baby,” he moaned.

I smiled sleepily.

“That was unexpected.” He kissed my neck.

“Shower?” I suggested.

“Probably best.” He looked at his watch. It was the only thing he was still wearing. “Shit. We have thirty minutes before we have to meet Eloise.”

I pouted. It was Sunday. Part of me wanted to stay in bed and read while Vaughn conquered crossword puzzles. But I knew we couldn’t live in a hotel suite forever.

“All right. All right. Quick shower and I’ll get dressed.”

He helped me from the bed. He smacked my bare ass as I walked in front of him. I ran and squealed.

“There’s a reason we have a walk-in shower in this suite.” He chased me into the bathroom.

The first two apartments Eloise, our realtor, showed us were like something out of a magazine. There was no resemblance to the third floor two-bedroom apartment I shared with Greer when I moved to DC. I had loved that space, but these places didn’t seem real.

Eloise turned the key in the third flat, smiling over her shoulder. She had wisps of cinnamon curls around her face. It was a tight no-nonsense haircut. There was something stylish, yet serious about her. The shimmer of her bright red lipstick hadn’t faded over the hours we had spent together.

“This one came on the market last night.” Her English was laced with a thick French accent. I could listen to her speak all day. “If you are interested, monsieur, you must make an offer immediately. It won’t last ‘til sunset. I’m sure of it.” She spun one of her large pearl earrings while she talked.

Vaughn cast an eye at her, but let me walk inside first.

“It’s 175 square meters,” she announced, walking past me.

I turned to Vaughn. “And that’s how many square feet?” I asked. I wasn’t used to converting everything to metric. Maybe it was something else I could add to my self-studies while we were in Paris.

“About 1,800,” he answered.

“It’s huge. I’ve never seen an apartment like this before.” I walked into the living room. The windows opened on to a balcony. There were flowers spilling over the side into a garden courtyard. I looked below at the fountain bubbling in the center.

There was an illusion of privacy on this side of the flat even though it shared the interior courtyard with its neighbors.

Eloise pointed to the kitchen. “As you can see, there are all new appliances. Complete renovation with historic accents. The previous owners made sure to restore it with only the best of everything. It is a stunning property.”

My fingertips trailed over the stone countertops.

“What a beautiful ring.” Eloise’s eyes landed on my new rock.

“Thank you.” I blushed. I couldn’t stop the impulse to twist it with my right hand. She was the first person who had seen it.

“Your husband has excellent taste.”

“He does,” I agreed.