Page 49 of The Last Kiss

“Juliette,” he sighs, “You have the most exquisite mouth.”

To prove I do, I slip him in, hollowing my cheeks and flattening my tongue to encase around him. His thumb brushes my cheek and I look up to find him watching, lips parting as I lower my gaze to suck him back in again.

The power is all mine. I’ve never been one for oral, but that might have been because it’s never made me feel like this before, like I’m queen of the world and he’s going to fall at my feet on the whim of my lips and mouth.

I quicken, taking him deeper, flicking with my tongue, pulling a little harder until I’m roughly pulled up and away, his hands under my armpits.

“You’re an enchantress. I can’t stop thinking about you, remembering the way it felt inside of you.” He yanks at my blouse and I squeeze my eyes shut in case a button pings off and blinds me for life.

Thank God for good underwear.

He mutters in deep and lyrical French as he palms the lace of my black bra, thumb lightly pinching my nipple through the delicate material as I arch my back away from him. He’s making me a ballerina, pulling a languid dance out of me I didn’t know I knew the steps to.

Hoisting me with his upward movement, he straightens from the chair and strides for the bed. I wait for the bounce, but this time he lowers me carefully, like I’m a goddess he’s going to worship.

And he does, loosening my heels and dropping them to the floor, muttering in appreciation as he slides a hand up my leg. “I prefer these tights” He kisses my inner thigh, and his hands slip up the outer edge of my hips. Lifting, I wriggle free, relishing the skim of his slightly rough palm on my skin as he pulls down the tights. There’s a distinct ripping sound as they come off my feet.

“What’s the possibility of us meeting by chance twice?” I gasp as he presses a kiss to the inside of my knee.

“Fate, Juliette, fate.”

What I want to know is if Fate will bring us together again, because this tastes like an addiction I don’t want to recover from.

His stubble scratches my jaw as he stretches up to kiss me. I angle my hands to cup his face, holding him still so I can stare in his eyes.

There it is.

Something deep, twisted, and moreish that tells me I might want this over and over and over again even though I don’t know his name.

“Romeo’s should be naked,” I whisper in his ear using my foot to push off his trousers tangled around his ankles.

“Juliette’s should be less demanding,” he counters pressing me back into the mattress and hiking up my skirt.

“I have to be demanding. I might never see you again.”

He looks up, perplexity shadowed in the circles under his eyes. The skin that I know crinkles. “Want to know my name, ma petite?” he teases in my ear and my toes point, my knickers almost pulling themselves off my body in a bid to get to where I crave to be.

Yes, I want to know his name. His address, birthday, star sign. Yes, I might even want to know if he’d like a date next time he’s in town… a proper date where we arrange it, maybe he brings me flowers… or I him, let’s not be sexist here, and then we spend hours sparring in meaningful and enlightening conversation…

But Julianna Brown who might have wanted those things doesn’t exist anymore. It’s a future that no longer belongs to me, with hope, brightness and optimism dusted like fairy magic.

“Yes.” I gust with an exhalation as he dips a finger under the elastic of my knickers, slipping his touch through my desire, gaze darkening as he reads my body’s reactions. “No!” The finger pushes inside, twisting and pressing, filling me as it rubs along long unexplored sensitive spots.

“No to this?” He pulls his hand away from between my legs and I almost cry. A frown scores his face.

“God no. No to names. Put your hand back right now.”

Chuckles rock his body, but he obliges, and I writhe against his touch, groaning as his thumb circles my clit, his fingers dancing and alternating: one, then two, then one. Oooh one again to make me gasp as it encroaches further.

Let there be no mistake. I am going to come.

I hold on hard and fast, my hips moving with the strength of his arm and hand. The wave builds in my toes, racing up my legs with the bursting velocity of a dam that’s been breached.

“Come, Juliette.” I know he’s watching me fall apart, the moonlight illuminating every emotion on my face. I know it, but I can’t let the knowledge change anything about it.

I shudder hard, clenching around his fingers while his lips, which should feel foreign but instead seem like something else, catch my gasped moan.

“God, that feels good.” I capture his face, hungrily kissing his lips.