Page 16 of Misadventures with a Time Traveler

Well then…oui.

A thousand times…oui.

My cock does not argue with the vow. I am swollen, surging, and ready as she parts the fabric more, exposing more of my groin. But just as I think—and pray—she will free my erection, she works her sweet little fingers up to the closures of my vest. When she finishes, she shoves the garment from my shoulders. She prods me to rip off the shirt too.

Her delighted gasp is my immediate reward. “Holy…shit.”

“I am not certain shit can be sanctified, my lo— Alessandra.”

She laughs. I savor its husky honesty. “Brilliant point, your marquis-ness.”

A long moment passes. I shift as she twitches her lips, gazing upon me like a dessert croissant. Her brazen assessment is unusual but not unpleasant. “Do I…please you?”

The woman snorts. “You’re a whole year’s worth of Man Candy Mondays, babe.”

“I am…” Lost. Literally. Thoroughly.

She lifts her eyebrows, guiding my attention back to her captivating gaze. “You’re très magnifique, my friend.”

“But I do not want to be your friend, Alessandra.”

She splays the tips of her fingers across my ribs. “I don’t want to be yours either, Hotness.”

I watch, entranced, as she glides those fingers down.

Then down…

I groan, tight and low, as she dips them into my breeches. As she squeezes my raging flesh. I am stretched, my tip weeping, as she works my engorged length. Dear God, Kavia did conjure her from someplace dark and wicked and wanton. At the moment, I am beyond caring.

Almost.

“Alessandra.” I seize her wrist. “Are you sure? I will not compromise your honor unless you are sure.”

She becomes very still—before squeezing my balls again. My whole cock jerks in protest. “Oh wow,” she mutters. “Now that’s pretty hot.”

I grasp the nuance of her tone, discerning hot is not open for literal translation. But it is achingly appropriate. It is nearly all I feel. “Quoi?” I finally manage to sputter. “Wh-What is your meaning, mon amoureux?”

“Your old-fashioned talky-talk.” She smiles before pressing the lush bow of her mouth to the center of my chest. “All that honor and chivalry babble.”

I grunt. “It is not just…babble.”

“Even better.”

With her free hand, she takes down my breeches. As she strokes my bare backside, I drop my head back. “Heavenly. God.”

“Not sure she’s here right now. Will I do?”

I laugh. “Perhaps I should start lamenting my honor.”

“No.” She glides her magical mouth to my neck. “Tonight isn’t for lamenting. It’s for celebrating, remember? Birth. Genesis. Creation. Mine. Damn, maybe yours too.”

Perfect.

How does she know the perfect thing to say at just the right moment?

I seek out the answer by lifting my head. At the same moment, she does the same. Our mouths are now inches from each other. Our stares are pure, primal acknowledgments of one other. “What do you want, Alessandra?” I curl my fingers against her scalp and tug—and revel in how her gaze flares because of it. “What can I give you?” Anything. Everything.

She pushes up on her toes, closing the half-breath of space between us. “I want you to kiss me hard and deep—and then help me fuck our honor into oblivion.”