Keep Me (Beggar's Choice #3) (29 page)

BOOK: Keep Me (Beggar's Choice #3)
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I break into a peal of laughter. “Bram that’s such an old
saying. Can I be witnessing the great lady killer of the western world in
action? Say it’s not so.” Then I pause. “Where are we going?”

We’ve got to the top of the steps and he moves us round to
the side out of sight of the other couples. “What are you doing?” I ask
suspiciously as he stands stock still just looking at me, then he smiles with
just a quirk of his full lips.

“Just looking at you
a stòr
. Can’t believe I’m
finally here with you after everything.”

I smile at him but it dies as he moves closer taking my arms
softly and bringing me into him. At the first touch of his hard body I gasp and
the sound seems to drift between us amplifying the sudden charge of electricity
which arcs between him and me. His eyes darken and as if in slow motion he
lifts his hand and cups my face, touching the contours of my face like a blind
man.

“Alys,” he breathes and then lowers his mouth until it rests
against mine. For a long second he rests his lips against mine moving gently
but the kiss stays innocent. Then his tongue licks over my bottom lip and I
gasp opening my mouth and his tongue slides in and against mine. He tastes of
brandy and coffee and something sweet that’s just him.

I tangle my tongue with his and he murmurs incoherently and
slides one hand under the loops of my hair caressing the soft skin there, while
the other hand slides down my back and around to cup the sharp bone of my
hipbone and pull me into him where I can feel the hard thrust of his body.

At first I think that he’ll crush me into him like he did
the last time that we kissed so that he could feel everything. However, this
time he uses that hand to keep me slightly away from him so that it can’t
escalate and we can’t grind against each other. Instead we kiss for what seems
like forever and when we pull away our lips are swollen and our breaths are
coming quickly, but it’s still the sweetest kiss that I’ve ever been given.
Innocent and knowing at the same time, and loaded with some deep, unspoken
emotion.

Resting his forehead against mine he breathes in deeply
keeping me close in the circle of his arms, and we stay like that for a long
time while the lights of Paris twinkle and shine. Finally, he gives me an extra
squeeze and moves back to grab my hand. “Back to the hotel,” he murmurs and I
nod unable to say more.

We catch a taxi back to the hotel. We’re staying at the
Buddha Bar Hotel which is a boutique hotel off la Rue du Faubourg Saint Honoré.
It’s surrounded by restaurants and museums and entering it is like going back
to 1930’s Shanghai with the entrance way decorated by battalions of Chinese
lanterns hanging from the ceiling and bathing everything in their rich, red
light. The colours are echoed throughout the hotel in imperial yellows, jade
greens and scarlet lacquer, and when we’d checked in I’d told Bram that I felt
like I was inside a kaleidoscope.

We walk hand fast up a very imposing curving staircase
decorated all in white and grey but each landing shows a peek into a jewel
coloured hallway. When we enter the room I take a second to appreciate its
beauty. We’re staying in their historic suite on the second floor and it’s a
unique mix of Parisian and Asiatic styles, with the icing on the cake being a
long balcony overlooking the Rue d’Anjou. I’ve never stayed anywhere like this
but Bram takes it for granted having probably stayed in hundreds of rooms like
this where you actually get a choice of pillow models from a list. That had
tickled me earlier because it made it sound like they were offering up Naomi
Campbell for a head rest.

I wander over to the window looking down at the busy night
time scene and then I sigh as he walks up behind me, his reflection showing me that
he’s taken off his jacket and loosened his tie. He’d put on a navy, three piece
suit and it complements the lean, hard angles of his body while the stark
colour draws attention to the sharp bones of his face and the fullness of his
lips. He draws me back against him.

“How’s Paris?” he murmurs in my good ear and I twist in his
arms throwing my hands behind his neck and nestling them in the warm waves of
his hair.

“It’s gorgeous,” I announce and he grins pleased. “This is
so
beautiful Bram. I’ve never stayed anywhere like this, but it must be costing a
fortune.”

He shrugs carelessly. “Not really and you’re worth it. After
all this is part of our mission.”

“Our mission?” I echo and then I laugh. “Oh my God you
kissed me in Paris. You’ve ticked a box.”

He smirks and I sense something coming. “That
was
a
kiss, you’re quite right love, but there are so many different types of
kissing.”

“There are?” I parrot, feeling heat run through me as he
lifts his hands and starts to undo the zip on the back of my dress.

“Oh yes. There’s light kissing.” He drops airy, butterfly
kisses on my lips ignoring my instinctive move to deepen them. He trails them
across my cheekbones leaving tendrils of fire as his busy hands continue
pulling the zip down. Then I wriggle and snort as he licks my ear and nuzzles
the lobe. “Ticklish kisses too,” he breathes into my ear and I giggle again.

“What other ones are there?” I gasp and he smiles with a
carnal twist of his mobile lips.

“Ah Alys you’re such a willing student.” He steps back slightly
and my dress falls open and he gasps as he pushes it off me, looking with open
hunger at the pretty underwear that I’m wearing. It’s a bra and panties set
from Agent Provocateur and they’re a scanty mix of sheer mesh and raspberry
coloured lace. “Fuck, that’s a sight,” he whispers. “Remind me to buy Elen a
present.”

I go to answer but then groan as his fingers touch the lace
and he rubs it deliberately over my nipple which immediately hardens as if
seeking more touch. “You like that?” he whispers. “What about some mystery
destination kisses?”

“What are they?” I grab onto his arms and feel the hard
muscles strung taut.

He lowers his head and licks a slow path down my neck and
onto my collarbone where he nuzzles, breathing open mouthed as I squirm with lust.
“Mystery destination kisses always lead to somewhere but it’s a surprise,” he
breathes, and then his mouth lowers over my bra and those talented lips open
over my nipple and start to suck.

“Oh!” I gasp feeling heat spread like lightning from my
breasts to my pussy as if the two are connected with invisible lines. One hand
finds my hip and pulls me into him where I can feel the sharp thrust of his
cock, while the other expertly undoes my bra clip. He pulls back allowing it to
flutter to the floor and for a second he just stares at me.

“Fuck Alys you have the most beautiful tits that I’ve ever
seen,” he says reverently, reaching out to cup them. He shapes them in his
hands, instinctively knowing that a sliding touch along the lower slopes will
light me up like a candle, and then he pulls me sharply to him as if his
patience has finally snapped and starts to lick and suckle my breasts as if his
life depends on it.

I writhe against him feeling the strength of the muscles in
his long legs, and when he lifts me up suddenly my legs immediately wrap around
him and I cry out as my extremely wet panties meet the hard thrust of him. For
a long moment all that I can hear is the sound of my choked, guttural gasps and
the occasional grunt which comes from him as he uses his tongue and teeth on me
until I think that I might explode.

I know that I’m climbing the slope to climax quickly but
before I can get there he forces me away from him, lowering me to the floor and
holding me at arm’s length while his hands caress my shoulders, sliding over
the soft skin as if he can’t help himself. I look at him, at the flush on his
cheeks, the swollen lips and the eyes that now look almost black with his blown
pupils.

“Wait,” he gasps, visibly reining in his control. “I haven’t
given you the best kiss yet love.”

“What is it?” I moan and then gasp as he picks me up and
throws me onto the bed, jumping up and straddling me before I know it. He
stares down at me resting his weight on his hands, and then nuzzles against me
like a big cat. Then he pulls back slightly and just looks at me before bending
and running his hands down my body in one long, voluptuous caress. I arch under
his hands, all self-consciousness gone.

“You’re so beautiful Al. I want to be inside you so much.”

“Do it,” I moan. “I’ve missed this.”

He hesitates, his eyes suddenly sharper. “Did you think
about it?”

I know what he’s talking about and I have no shame now.
“Every night,” I whisper and his eyes close as if in some great relief. When he
opens them they’re shining in the low light.

“Me too,” he says and it’s like a vow. “I thought of it
every night. I know that you might not believe me but it’s true. I never
forgot. It was the best night of my life.”

I look at him. “I’m sorry that I made you think that it was
nothing to me when it was everything.”

He shudders looking suddenly vulnerable. “Why did you say it
was nothing then love?” I don’t say anything but his gaze sharpens anyway. “Did
you mean what you wrote, that it was because you thought that’s what I wanted
to hear?”

My throat gets thick at his hopeful expression and I settle
for nodding. “I’m sorry but I thought you wanted easy.”


Never
with you. God I can’t believe how much time
we’ve wasted” he says gently but his face looks somehow lightened as if a
burden has got lighter.

I still have no idea where we’re going but I’m so tired of
holding myself away from him, never letting him get close so I open my arms to
him, but I’m amazed when he sighs. “Not tonight,” he murmurs, adjusting himself
with a deep groan.

“What? Why?”

He looks down at me chidingly. “Alys have you forgotten my
bullet points?”

“Yes, but you’ve kissed me in Paris, now come down here and
fuck me there too.”

He groans out loud. “Alys honest to God you are fucking
killing me.” Then his eyes gleam. “Anyway I haven’t kissed you the way that you
should be kissed in Paris.”

“How is that?” I mumble getting an inkling and swallowing
hard as he reaches down and slides my knickers off with a wicked, dirty grin
leaving me in just my heels.

“Baby I’m going to French kiss your pussy.”

I groan throwing my hands over my face as he slides down
until his face is level with my pussy, and then he pushes my thighs wide apart
and there is something about the deliberateness of the action that is so
arousing.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he whispers and I open my mouth
to say I don’t know what, but all that comes out is a choked whine as he
nuzzles his nose in amongst my folds and inhales deeply. “You smell even
better,” he groans. “So fucking sweet.” Then he runs his tongue all the way
down from my clit to my entrance and back up again until he reaches my clit
where he fastens his lips around the nub and suckles it. I arch against him
crying out and he groans, suckling harder until I think that I see stars, and
then he settles in to really play.

I have decried the amount of women that he’s had but right
at this moment I bless them because this man is a master at giving head. He
alternates between sucking and licking my clit and then forcing his tongue
inside me. He points it and ruts my pussy with it as if it was his cock while I
moan in utter abandonment not caring who could hear me. In fact a marching band
could parade through the room and I would just force his head harder against
me.

Then he’s back to my clit while his talented fingers push
into my cunt and he crooks them making a sort of come here gesture that rubs
against a spot inside me that makes me warm inside and shudder and shake.
“Bram,” I shout out, canting my hips forward and almost riding his face. “Oh my
God.”

He lifts his head displaying a face so far gone with lust
that he looks almost violent. “Yes love come for me, let me hear you.” He bends
to me again, licking me furiously and finger fucking me so hard that before I
know it I’m screaming out in pleasure. I arch my body, contorting and riding
his fingers and feeling the explosions inside myself go on and on.

Finally, I calm and lay back panting, feeling the sweat
cooling on my body. He raises up over me and wipes his face with his hand and
then licks his hand and his fingers clean while I watch in what can only be
termed a state of carnal oblivion. I try to raise my hand to him but it flops
down and I groan, feeling as if all the bones in my body have disintegrated.

He laughs settling down next to me, his eyes bright and
knowing but warm as chocolate. “What about you?” I mutter looking down at his
dick which is straining against his suit trousers.

He huffs dismissively, lifting my hand and letting it flop
down. “Yeah, what are you going to do about that with this hand, Ragdolly
Anna?” he taunts and I laugh.

“I’ll do something when the feeling returns to my limbs.” He
grins and lies down next to me pulling me into his arms with a contented sigh.
“Seriously Bram,” I mutter. “Let me do something for you.”

“Nuh-uh that was just for you. Be patient my little
apprentice. Your master is going to teach you a few things about delayed
gratification and wooing.”

“That almost sounds like a threat,” I mutter. A few minutes
later I stir feeling the warmth and scent of him all around me like a warm
blanket. “Bloody hell I love Madonna. I’m joining her fan club when we get
back.”

His arms tighten and then he lets go with a massive snort of
laughter.

***

We spend the next few days sightseeing around Paris and I
couldn’t ask for a better tour guide. He’s been here loads of times and he
knows all the little shops and bars and restaurants. We walk in little green
parks and sit on the grass greedily eating hot croissants from a paper bag, and
always we talk about anything and everything.

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