WARM STEEL ARMS trapped her against a welcomed touch. A much-needed touch. Molly palmed Tensley’s rigid lower stomach, delving lower until he caught her wrist and strolled with purpose to Pavillon de la Reine. Her mouth dropped.
In the midst of one of the oldest planned squares of Paris, Place des Vosges, Molly felt tiny and warm, especially with Tensley beside her.
The whole square glowed beautifully under the nineteenth century lamps, offset by the black night sky. She gripped Tensley’s bicep tight as they walked on the old cobblestones streets, her heels a danger to herself in the cracks.
The Pavillion De la Reine looked like an elegant white stone building graced with fresh green ivy.
“You’re staying here?” She gaped at the doorman, dressed in a black three-piece suit.
“Yes,” he said tersely, his hand smoothing down her spine to the small of her back. She shivered and buried deeper into his side as they entered the classic black and white with a hint of gold hotel lobby.
“Tensley,” she breathed into his shoulder and clenched his sleeve. “I want you.”
His hand squeezed her hip, pressing her so his front met her, and she gasped at how hard his length felt. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.”
As soon as they were in the elevator, Tensley rubbed once against her, but a growl left his lips, and he stopped himself. But Molly didn’t want him to.
“You can’t break me, Tensley,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his clenched jaw.
A growl left his mouth and his large, powerful hands gripped her ass cheeks, lifting her off the ground.
“Sounds like a challenge, ciccia,” he said lowly. His teeth dragged along that damn mark of his, and she came undone.
The bell signaled his floor, and without putting her down, or unlatching his mouth from her delicate mark, Tensley guided them to his bedroom.
He pushed the door open with his hip and shifted them into the dark room.
“This won’t be sweet, dolcezza,” he muttered into her sweaty flesh. “I’m going to be brutal, cruel, and ruthless to you tonight.”
He placed her down on her feet, just inches from the bed, his toxic dark eyes flashing with delight and want.
Molly’s heart went haywire at the stare alone, but when his hands skimmed her sides, over her ass cheeks, only to scoop up her dress, palming her skin, she moaned. He lowered, kneeling before her, his hot breath trailing along her stomach, still clothed, but she felt him. She lifted her head, panting, but willed herself to watch the man before her. On his knees for her.
His strong fingers kneaded her round cheeks, slipping between her legs, and then he tugged. Hard. She gasped, gripping her throat. He bunched up her ruined black lacy panties and licked his lips, spreading her legs further.
“As much as I want to eat your sweet pussy, dolcezza,” he said, darkly, and as if to test himself, his tongue flicked her core, and she clenched her fists from grabbing his thick dark hair, “it’ll have to wait.”
With one single finger, he pressed her back onto the bed and climbed on top, his body heat torturing her.
His fingers found her entrance and didn’t waste a moment, plunging knuckles deep to the spot Molly craved, arching her back off the bed and into him. The stretch. The burn. So familiar, but so brand new to her body.
“I want you wet and hungry, fuck, only hungry for me, understood?” his voice raspy.
Molly panted, her chest heaving with the unbridled excitement. God, she wanted him. Only just him.
“Please, please, god fuck!” She bit her mouth, her head tossing back and forth on the sheets, gripping tighter as he worked her to a powerful bliss.
“Fuck, I want to be inside of you now,” he hissed out, his hooded eyes watching her expression. He rocked himself against her, his cock hard and throbbing on her inner thigh.
“Too many clothes,” Molly breathed and clutched at his jacket and black top. She needed skin on skin right now, or she’d lose her mind. Once his chest was bare, she slid her palms up his sculpted abs and powerful pecs, aching to kiss each scar. She tugged at his pants button next.
He laughed harshly into her ear and groaned when she popped the button off and found his rigid length. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He bowed his head against her shoulder and bit into her skin.
“Tensley!” she cried out, but he stole her moan in a feral kiss. One she grew vicious in.
She squealed into his kiss as he lifted her up, spun her, and bent her over the bed. She glanced over her shoulder, breathless, watching him tower over her.
Her zipper’s buzz was a whispered promise. He slipped her dress over her hips and down her thighs, taking his time feeling over her naked skin.
Then silence, apart from both their breaths battling in the darken room.
“You’re a fucking blessing and curse.” His growl sliced through her strength, and she braved a look over her shoulder. One hand worked his angry, thick length while the other spread her cheeks. “You’re soaked.” She knew he could see the glistening of her entrance, but she wanted him. So badly.
“The man in me wants to be gentle, but the beast in me wants to ravish you. Which one do you want, dolcezza?” The thickness to his voice told her the beast was fighting for control.
She bit her lip and groaned when he smacked her ass cheek hard. “All of you. I want all of you. Please, Tensley,” she said, trembling as he stroked her wetness with his blunt thumb.
He leaned over her, the heat of his length poking into her. “You’re going to make me roar, dolcezza, right?”
She nodded violently. “Yes.”
Then he plunged deep, so deep, her body bowed into the bed, Tensley’s hand on her stomach the only thing keeping her from collapsing.
He thrust endlessly against her, like a need inside of him craved her more than air, more than water, more than death. They breathed in the same ragged rhythm—the desire too brutal, the need to consume one another.
Her heart beat for him. Every thump a song for only him, and she wanted him to hear it.
Her hands curled into the sheets, groaning and panting, and crying out each time he swiveled his hips and dove deeper, deeper into an abyss she never knew existed inside of her.
“You feel too good to be fucking real,” he grunted, rocking into her and his hands tangling into her locks, and then tugging. There was the power, the strength she gave him that no other being could offer. The energy he lacked for three weeks without her, and she was the one strengthening the god.
He paused, flipping her around so she lay on her back. “I want to watch you as you come on my cock,” he demanded and penetrated her quick and hard. She squeezed her eyes shut on a moan, gripping his biceps on either side of her.
She drank him in, the god above her, sinewy muscles bulging and twisting so beautifully it hurt to watch, the beads of sweat lining his tanned skin and wrinkled brow in concentration.
She shifted beneath him, her hips adjusting to his brutal rhythm and wrapped her legs tight around him so her heels dug into his toned ass cheeks.
“Don’t stop,” she managed out.
A wildness took to his features, like a wild predator about to pounce and devour its prey. “I’m never letting you go.”
Her hips moved fast, kissing the top of her mound to his defined pelvis. Her hands spread down his arched back and to the top of his ass, clenching there as he drove quicker.
Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.
So deep, so fast, the pleasure morphed to stardust.
His cock slipped into her wetness and heat, consuming her, taking everything from her. His warring hips bruised her inner thighs, her back bowing off the bed, capturing his mouth just as she lost herself to the pleasure, the drug of Tensley Knight.
He roared. Roared so loud she felt his pleasure. His back went ramrod straight, his hands clenching the sheets beside her face, his cock pulsing inside of her, the hotness warming her insides, and he roared like the beast he was.
Their panting breaths became their music, their lullaby and her fingers lazily stroked his straight spine, the sweat pooling there.
He rolled so both of them lay on their sides, his semi-hard length still inside of her. His thick powerful thighs cradled hers, so safe, so protected.
“You’re all I thought about day and night,” he muttered, his hot breath fanning across her lashes. “My dolcezza.”
She glanced up at him, catching his swollen lips and flushed skin, brow bent, beaded with sweat. The shadows casted half of his face in darkness, his grey eyes so full of moonlight they almost glowed. But instead she saw the adoration in them.
His words settled into her chest and she smiled softly at him.
“I’ve never been so horny in my life,” she whispered and giggled, shaking her head.
Tensley chuckled and combed her hair out of her eyes, letting his thumb brush across his mark, causing her to shiver. “Must be the mark,” he reasoned, the dark lust in his eyes returning again.
She shouldered herself deeper into his arms and pressed her cheek to his hard pec, kissing him there, the salty taste of his skin on her lips. “I want to sleep like this every night.”
When he hummed, it vibrated through her, the best feeling in the world, and he kissed her hair. Her heart was full and open—open for him to hide in and take shelter.
“Me and you, a big house, you in my arms each night,” he said softly, painting the perfect picture. His calloused fingers were so soft on her skin, stroking her spine, lulling her to sleep in his strong arms. He kissed her slowly, a kiss full of devotion and quiet worship. One she would never forget. It was a soft, simple kiss, but it was imprinted into her skin, into her mind and soul.
This man was her strength, her warrior and caretaker.
Shadowed in the peaceful darkness of Paris, Molly fell deeper into the beast.