Rhapsody (Butcher and Violinist 1) - Page 39

Jean-Pierre gripped the edge of his desk harder.

The dress fell to the ground. I stood there in my candy red bra and panty set, complete with garters and thigh high stockings.

Jean-Pierre held a hungry and intense gaze that sent sparks through me. “Je veux t’embrasser.”

Boldly, I whispered back, “I want to kiss you too.”

He gave me a wicked smile. “Le seul vrai langage au monde est un baiser.”

I widened my eyes. “What did you say?”

“The only true language in the world is a kiss.”

“That’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you.” He left the desk in a flash.

I lost my breath.

The space closed between us. Jean-Pierre’s mouth pressed against mine. And it was a magnetic pull. A breathtaking tease. He put his hands in my hair, pulling me forward. Consuming me. I leaned into him, wanting to taste more.

It was so good. I wasn’t sure if I was doing this arrangement for the money anymore. It was Jean-Pierre. I ached for him.

He slowly moved away. “What turns you on, Eden?”

I hadn’t been expecting that question.

He wrapped his arms around my waist. “Are you a nymphobraniac?”

Shocked, I smiled. “I guess you can say that. I could probably orgasm from a guy’s brain.”

“Hmmm. We should see.”

“We should.” I bit my lip.

“Take out your Eros.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Oh. You don’t want to play?” He licked his lips. “You want me to fuck you instead?”

Blushing, I widened my eyes but couldn’t keep the desire out of them.

“Don’t worry, ma femme magnifique, there will be a lot of fucking. For now, I want you to play.”

Chapter 12

Soaked Panties

Eden

I played for him. The whole time my body buzzed with horniness. And he sat on the edge of his desk.

Fuck this violin. I want to have sex.

He’d got me all hyped for it. I’d thought about it all night, unable to go to sleep. I didn’t know how I could focus on playing, but somehow, I did. At first, I began with Mozart, but then I became bold.

And he watched me. So strategic. He knew I was close to begging for him. He knew how wet I was. My soaked panties could be spotted from his distance.

He’d glanced between my thighs as I played, making me even more wet. Those eyes devoured me, raking over my face like he couldn’t get enough. My desire for him gave me courage.

I shifted and played his song Iliad, hoping I’d remembered the right rhythm of his notes.

He rose from the desk. “Stop.”

I trembled, part in desire, and part in fear. Did I piss him off by playing a song from his past?

He came away and stood before me, so close that our bodies almost touched. Close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him. “You’re very smart.”

I took Leo’s advice and simply looked him in his eyes. I showed him confidence, even though every cell in my body yearned for his touch.

“How do you know that song?”

“I looked you up.”

“I didn’t tell you much.”

“It wasn’t hard to find your album. Violinists can look up other violinists. I would know the circles. The notable symphony alum lists—”

“You know too much.” There was no anger on his face, just desire.

My skin felt hot, like the chandelier overhead was the mid-summer sun. My pussy throbbed steadily, and I could feel my panties growing damper.

“How long did you practice that song?”

“For the past two days.”

He leaned his head to the side. “Why?”

“I wanted to know more about you.”

“So, you chose to learn about me through my music?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not that person anymore.”

“But you were.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m something else completely.” His gaze heated. “Put Eros down and take off your bra.”

I swallowed and began to turn from him. He stopped me. “No, I’ll put up Eros, you focus on the bra.”

I gave him a nervous smile. “Okay.”

He gently took Eros, walked over, and slowly placed the violin in its case. When he turned around, he frowned. His voice was deeper than usual and had a ragged edge to it that sent a shiver up my spine. “The bra is still on.”

“Oh yeah. I’m sorry.”

The moment was surreal.

Take off the bra. You’re going to be naked. That’s fine. We knew this. Hey, my tits aren’t bad at all.

I exhaled, reached behind me, and unhooked the clasp of my bra. Slowly I drew the straps down my shoulders, taking care to keep the cups in place. It was an attempt to tease him some more. Prolong the moment. The cups covered most of my breasts.

His breath hitched as he stared at those spots.

“His desire to chase you will kick in. You’re confident. Funny. Smart.”

I slipped the bra off, held it by one strap, and tossed the bra at him.

Okay. That might not be as sexy as I imagined.

The bra fell in front of his feet. Cool air brushed against my hardening nipples. I didn’t think Jean-Pierre noticed where the bra landed or how I threw it. My breasts lay bare and exposed.

Tags: Kenya Wright Butcher and Violinist Billionaire Romance
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