“Je t’aime, mademoiselle,” I whispered.
“Je t’aime, monsieur,” she giggled.
She laughed again, staring up at me with the prettiest smile. She was so young, so hopeful, not yet jaded by life. I loved the fact that she found joy in the simple things, that she found love in me.
If I wasn’t careful, all this mushy love stuff was going to soften me. I was already holding back considerably in bed, terrified to hurt her or the baby. Every time we made love now, I made sure to reign in my normally rough desires. She kept telling me over and over that she was fine and that I couldn’t hurt the baby by our normal activities, but I wasn’t about to take any chances.
Part of me couldn’t wait till the baby was born and Chloe was all healed up and ready to accept the full force of my love again. Until then, I’d be happy with being gentle.
It certainly wasn’t easy, though. I longed for the rush of power that I was used to experiencing. I yearned to run my fingertips over her freshly whipped flesh, admiring the scarlet beauty of her stinging skin. To know that I had created that. It was a heady rush that I’d become addicted to. Chloe’s acceptance of it all had only made me want it more.
At times, I questioned my need for it. I wondered if I’d let it go too far. I’d contemplated if I was indeed a sex addict. But those questions didn’t matter, nor did the answers.
I was who I was. Nothing was going to change. That was why Chloe was so valuable to me. I knew she accepted me fully, she wasn’t just waiting around for something to be different. I’d had relationships in the past where women thought they could ‘fix’ me, or that I’d grow out of it, or even worse, that I could change just because they wanted me to.
Those theories couldn’t be farther from reality.
Hell, I’d already gone to hell and back trying to deny that part of me and I’d learned it wasn’t going anywhere.
Chloe was priceless to me.
Her love, her acceptance, those were things my money would never be able to provide for me. Even the most seasoned sex workers had tired of my games, no matter how much I paid them.
Chloe loved me for me.
There was nothing more important to me than nourishing that love. If I was forced to control myself a little more than usual while she was pregnant, so be it. In the end, I would get to go back to my old ways and we’d be blessed with a little girl afterwards.
That didn’t mean we couldn’t do other stuff though. I wasn’t sure where, but I knew I’d be buried inside of her somewhere on this avenue before the evening was over. I knew this because there was no way I was going to be able to wait much longer, not with that look on her face and that short cocktail dress she was wearing just begging me to take her.
We reached the far end of the Champs-Elyseés and found the club I knew about. L’Arc was jumping, with people steaming in and out of it steadily. The Arc towered in the distance, a gorgeous backdrop.
“Let’s go inside,” I said, taking her hand in mine and leading her inside the club. Loud pumping music poured out of the place and as soon as we walked through the threshold we were transported into another world.
A world of opulence and luxury.
The black marble floors under our feet led down a small stairway and into a sunken bar and dance floor lined with low-slung quilted black leather booths filled with the beautiful people of Paris. They were drinking, laughing, flirting, lounging and all the people writhing on the crowded dance floor only added to the electric energy of the place.
The hostess greeted us and I asked for a VIP room. She nodded and we followed her to the back of the club. We walked past throngs of dancing couples and I glanced over my shoulder, smiling as I watched Chloe drinking in the crowd.
We ascended a dark staircase and the hostess opened a door and ushered us inside a dark, empty room. I slipped her some cash and she smiled.
“A waitress will be here shortly,” she said, closing the door behind her.
The room was gorgeous, the low light faintly illuminating a black leather couch and a few tables. One entire side was a window that looked down at the dance floor, the flashing pink and blue lights ricocheting off mirrored walls.
“This is incredible,” Chloe said, just as the door opened again and a scantily dressed waitress walked in.
“Bon jour,” she purred. “What can I get you?”
“What would you like, darling?” I asked Chloe.
“I’d love a whiskey, but I’ll just have a soda and lime,” she said. I winked at her, and turned back to the waitress.
“Two sodas with lime, please,” I asked.
“Be right back. Please make yourself comfortable,” she nodded and walked out. Chloe turned to me.
“Bear, you don’t have to refrain from drinking just because I can’t,” she said.
“I’d rather be on the same page with you tonight,” I said, pulling her into my arms.
“You’re too good to me,” she said.
I was being good to her, but I was also refraining from drinking because I was afraid of getting drunk around her and losing control. Staying sober was best.
Besides, it really isn’t fair that the woman has to do all the work and make all the sacrifices during a pregnancy. A little solidarity was in order, as far as I was concerned.
The waitress returned with our drinks after a few moments and we took her advice, settling into the couches and watching the crowd below.
“We can go down there, if you’d like,” I said.
“I’m loving it up here,” she said. “I like begin alone with you and still being able to see everyone. Do you think they can see us?”
“Who cares? Nobody seems to be looking up, but I’m sure they’re all pretty self-absorbed right now.”
“They do seem to be having a very good time, don’t they?” she quipped.
“Yes, they do,” I agreed. She leaned into me, my cock stirring at the pressure of her body against mine.
Suddenly, I realized I couldn’t wait any longer. We were alone and she was mine.
“Beauty, stand up,” I growled.
“Hmm?” she asked, distracted by her people watching.
“Stand up!” I barked. “Now!”
“Oh!” she said, scrambling to her feet. She looked down at me, a half-smile forming on her face as she realized what I was up to. Silently, she waited for further instructions. Her obedience only made me harder.
“Go lock the door,” I said. She walked over to the door and my gaze glued to her ass, her curves mesmerizing me as they swayed back and forth. Every move she made seduced me into a trance.
She turned back to me, waiting expectantly.
“Come here,” I said, my voice a low husky growl. My cock swelled in my pants, throbbing painfully. She stood in front of me, looking down at me with the beauty of an angel.
I’d never wanted her more.
I reached down, unbuckling my belt and opening my pants. I pulled out my swollen cock and looked back up at her.
“Straddle me,” I said. “I need to be inside of you, now!”
Without any hesitation, she sat on my lap, her dress rising over her hips, her naked thighs surrounding me. She reached down, gripping my shaft and sliding her exquisite pussy around me.
“Yes,” I groaned, my hands grabbing her hips and guiding her up and down on my lap.
She was so soft, so fucking hot, such a perfect fit.
My hands trailed down, running over her muscular thighs as they flexed under my palms with each thrust. Her
skin slid under my fingertips like satin. My gaze traveled up, drinking in the swell of her breasts, the flush of her cheeks, the hunger in her eyes.
I reached up with one hand, encircling her beautiful collar-lined throat with my fingers. I felt her swallow hard, her eyes peering into mine.
“Bear?” she asked.
“Yes, Beauty,” I groaned, pushing up into her.
“Who am I?” she asked, cocking her head to one side, her eyes full of sensual mischief. She licked her lips, waiting for my answer.
I smiled, my cock twitching inside of her, threatening to explode. My thumb rubbed over the words emblazoned on her collar. She shivered at my touch, her nipples hardening under her dress.
“You, Beauty, are mine. Mrs. Dalton, my good girl…”
Her pupils dilated and I felt her pussy spasm around my cock, gripping me tighter with each thrust. Her hips never stopped moving, her soft lips grinding against me and then pulling away, up and down, over and over…
“Do you like me like this, Bear?” she asked, her voice a low purr. “Fucking you. Obeying you. Doing every slutty little thing you ask me to do…”
“Yes,” I said, pressing harder into her. “I fucking love it, Chloe. You’re my perfect little slut, aren’t you?” I let go of her neck, sliding my hand into her hair. Her curls tangled around my fingertips and I lightly pulled. Her eyes lit up, just as they did every single time I did that.
I turned her face to the crowd below.
“Look at them,” I said. “All those people. All they have to do is look up and they’d see what you are. A dirty girl. A very, very good girl, but a terribly dirty slut.”
She was so wet. The sweet slide of skin on skin took my breath away, sending me deep into the darkness that I knew I’d never be able to ignore.
“Chloe,” I growled, “do you see anyone else down there you’d like to fuck?”
Her head spun around, her gaze crashing into mine.
“No, Bear,” she said. “I’m yours. I don’t want to fuck anyone else.”
I growled again, my perfect little angel.
“Good answer,” I said, thrusting hard up into her. She whimpered, her head falling back. “You do know who you are, don’t you? All mine. Forever mine.”