Page 111 of Tears of Glass

Tomorrow we will be in France and that sounds mighty fine to me.

“I can’t believe we came all this way to have croissants whilst sitting on bare floorboards.” His fingers stroke lazily at my hair.

“We aren’t sitting. We are lying down, it’s two completely different things.”

I snuggle against his chest, the warmth of his skin making my stomach tighten and contract. By the time we pulled up in Carcassonne, the bakers were already opening for the day. We left the black huge car we’d journeyed in down a dark and star lit France, idling on the side of the road while we grabbed croissants fresh out the oven and hot chocolates sweet enough to make your teeth ache.

The hot chocolate is now cold. Who cares.

Cocooned in the king size duvet, we’ve managed to stop any part of our skin touching the cold floorboards. I sigh and look up at the magnificent ceiling. This place is just beyond words. Shafts of sunlight are slanting through the shutters, dust motes swirling, and all I want to do is create. To stand here in this bright and airy space and allow my hands to move and form with a will of their own.

I don’t have supplies though, so my fingers will have to make do with Eli’s skin. I slide my palm along his flat tummy, the grooves and lines of his muscles form an undulating landscape to explore.

“What do you want for your birthday?” I wiggle my way on top of him, my eyebrow arching as I kiss his chest, skimming my lips across his golden skin.

His lips curve at the edges. “I have everything I want.”

“Really?” I trail lower. “You have everything you want? Everything?” Feeling him arouse beneath me is hot. Knowing I have power over his body fills me with flames of strength.

He lifts his hips and I drop my head and slide my tongue along his erection. “Come on, tell me, what do you want for your birthday?” I lift my gaze, pulling my hair across my shoulder so I can see him better.

He groans, throwing his head back onto the makeshift camp bed. I slide my tongue along his length again, running it around the tip like it’s my favourite lollipop, and the heat burning between my legs grows so damn hot I have to squeeze my thighs together.

“Elijah?” My tone is innocent, his hips lift and press closer to my face.

His fingers spread along my head, smoothing my hair, his eyes closed. “You, Faith. I only ever want you.” I smile and fill him into my mouth, pulling hard as I tighten my lips around his width. He groans again, and I suck harder. Sliding myself across his middle, I clamp my legs around his waist as I face his erection and lift it, curving my spine as I bend lower to take him full, sucking and pulling hard. One of his hands slides along my back as I thrust him deeply in and out of my mouth, pushing him further and deeper with every movement. His fingers run between my arse cheeks and I stifle a moan, desperate for his touch to soothe the burn. He slides a finger deep inside me and I sigh as he rotates it, massaging deep within me while his other hand reaches forward and circles my clit. Holy fuck.

His hips rise and fall pounding my mouth and I ride out his hands as I drag him deeper and deeper, sucking harder and faster.

“Shit, Faith.” He lifts his hips higher and I push him deeper until he’s hitting the back of my throat. I’m so close to coming, spinning high and writhing on his hands. I focus though as his hips jolt and he spurts warm liquid into my mouth, crying out as he clenches and comes, rigid beneath me.

Swallowing, I gently clean him up with my tongue, lapping every last salty drop. His hands grab my hips and pull me backwards, burying his face in my desire. His fingers cease their maddening dance, only to be replaced by his furious tongue as he holds me firm and I rub myself against his face and mouth.

“Fuck.” I pant. I can’t hold it back, he’s irresistible. His skill too high for me to fight for any length of time. He pushes me up higher and higher, his teeth nibbling, his tongue probing—everywhere. And I whimper and cry as I shudder and scream out his beautiful name, collapsing onto him as aftershocks shake my frame. We lay there, panting, sweat cooling on my skin.

He chuckles but I can’t bring myself to move. “What a mighty fine view.” I can’t even care he’s staring right up my arse. His fingers graze my ink swirling along my thighs.

Summoning some energy, I roll onto my side and then crawl around until I’m snuggled against his chest. “What’s the plan for the rest of the day?” His fingers trail lazy patterns along my spine.

“More of that, a late lunch, and then home to London?”

“It’s a long way to come for lunch.”

With gentle fingers, he tilts my chin and plants a delicate kiss on my lips. I stretch until my naked body is pressed tight against his, warm and delicious.

“We won’t be in London to help Bernie at the shelter.”

He shrugs. “We can go tomorrow if you want, before I cook you a roast.”

“I can cook.” I giggle. It’s impossible not to.

“You can, your pasta last night was delicious.”

I elbow him in the ribs and grin a stupid big smile right up into his face. “I fed your friends and colleagues, didn’t I?”

He kisses the top of my head and I don’t think he could hold me tighter if he tried. “You did. You did, Faith.” Then he’s laughing and I’m laughing so damn hard tears leak out the corner of my eyes.

“I love you.” I wrap myself around him, tangling us together, limbs and skin, hot and warm.