Hooked Up: Book 3 (5 page)

My heart was racing and my stomach churned in nauseous waves. I was so crazy about this man it was literally making me feel sick. “You just want to fuck me and then go right back to Laura,” I spat out. “What were you doing bringing her that massive box? A gift, no doubt—perhaps a Kelly Bag?”

Squint lines radiated from his face as if he was amused, but he noticed the set fury on my face and stated quietly, “I was bringing Laura her books from my house in Provence, that’s all. You didn’t like them being there—I wanted to make you feel more at home.”

“That’s crap and you know it! Why didn’t you get Madame Menager to just Fedex them?”

“Because the last time I used Fedex, the package, which happened to be worth a lot of money, went AWOL for three weeks. Madame Menager had put Royaume Uni on the address and it went back and forth to Romania three times—they used the first two letters, the RO. Customer service in France is a disaster, I didn’t want to risk it. I needed to pop by my house– the pool’s being worked on, so I picked up the books while I was at it.”

“Why was it gift-wrapped, then?”

“The hotel did that. I’d bought some cashmere scarves and things that I was going to have sent to my mother, so they took the liberty of wrapping the box of books, obviously assuming it was also a gift.”

I flinched and eyed him suspiciously. I so wanted to believe him. “That doesn’t explain all the information Laura has about me. How did she know about me and Alessandra Demarr? Laura said nasty things to me, Alexandre. That you think I’m a ‘loony’ with a ‘slutty past,’ she knows stuff about me that only you could have told her.” I pushed my hands fiercely at his chest to shove him away, but another rush of desire flooded through me when I touched him. That chest, those abs, and his smooth skin.

“She said
what?
I sure as hell didn’t say any of those things. How could I say them when I don’t even
think
them?”

“Well, you told her about Alessandra!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Well someone did and it wasn’t Sophie and it wasn’t Alessandra and it wasn’t me.
You
are the only other person that knows.”

“This is insane!”

“That’s why it’s time for you to leave now, please. I don’t ever, ever want to see you again. Please exit from my loony, lesbian, slutty-past life!”

He held my shoulders. There was no point trying to push him away. Too solid, too strong, too determined.

His eyes flit about as if recalling something. “Alessandra must have said something to Sophie, maybe to rile her up, it doesn’t make sense—”

“No, Sophie doesn’t know. If she did she would have hardly upgraded my plane ticket to first class. Please go now, Alexandre.”

“She didn’t upgrade you. I did.”

“Did Sophie tell you my flight time?”

“She did, but I knew it already.”

“What? How? You’re spying on me?”

His mouth tipped up crookedly as if he wanted to smile, but he stopped himself. “Was it comfortable enough for you in First?”

“Yes, thank you for the upgrade, but I would have been quite happy in Economy had I known it was you and there were strings attached and that you were stalking me.”

His mouth tilted into a very subtle smirk when he told me, “I know, it was wrong of me, baby. It’s something I would never normally do . . . I respect people’s privacy. But I was worried about you; I just wanted to know your whereabouts, just in case.” He stepped closer and murmured, “Anyway, deep down inside, you secretly like me keeping an eye on you Pearl, admit it.”

It was true, I did like the fact that he’d been thinking about me and wanting to know where I was. But the question was . . . why? What did he want from me? I glared at him and said, “Stalking me, but with only one thing in mind: to get into my panties when it’s actually
Laura
you want to be with.” The idea that he desired me so much physically was a real turn-on. I tried to hide it with my furious scowl, but what was going on down south of the border was giving me away, even if only to myself.

He raised his arms in the air with exasperation. Boy, he was a good actor. “I do not fucking well want to be with Laura! I want to be with
you.
I want to marry
you.
Please, baby, I’ll get to the bottom of this; something strange is going on. I’ll talk to Laura—”

“Oh yes, I
bet
you will.”

He laid a hand gently on my shoulder and told me quietly. “Pearl, chérie. I love you. I’ve missed you so much. I
love
you;
you
are the only woman I want.”

I shrugged my shoulder to shake off his hand and rolled my eyes in disbelief like a sulky teenager.

He roared at me, “You
have
to believe me!”

Something about his hot-blooded anger, not only tickled me, but jolted me into action. I did want to trust him, and in that split second I decided that I had to let him hold me, at least one more time, even if he was lying. I couldn’t stand being in The Desert. I needed him, his touch, his breath on mine. I
needed
to believe his lies.

I stood there weakly, succumbing to him as he unzipped my jeans and put his hand down into my panties, pushing his finger into my soaking wet opening. He scooped me up in his arms and said, “That’s it, you want this as much as I do. No more games, Pearl.”

He took me into the bedroom and threw me onto the soft mattress, his massive bulge flexing through his elegant pants.

“What if I said ‘no,’ what if I said I couldn’t do this?” I mumbled, only too aware that I couldn’t resist him, knowing this whole Laura issue would have to sit on the back burner because I couldn’t hold out anymore.

“Then I’d know you’d be lying,” he rumbled, casting off his tailored jacket and unbuttoning his beautiful bespoke pants.

I gasped at his size: his raging angry cock wanted all of me. I started to frantically pull off my jeans and panties. I too felt like an animal. I lay there thrashing about the bed, wanton like some Babylon whore, my legs spread wide. “Fuck me, Alexandre, please,” I whispered. “I need you, all of you. Fuck me.”

“You bet I’ll fuck you.” He licked his lips lasciviously, crawled between my legs, laying his naked body on top of me. He was beautiful . . . how I’d missed this. His dark, floppy hair, his lean sexy body, his flashing green eyes . . . wanting me, needing me. But I suddenly felt as if I’d been too easy, so I closed my legs—a bit late, I knew, but I needed to show some semblance of pretense, so I squeezed them together to try and make myself seem less like a cat in heat. A ridiculous attempt to gain back a sprinkling of dignity.

His strength overpowered me; he knew I wanted this as much as he did. His mouth was on mine, his tongue probing me as growls rumbled from his throat “Don’t suddenly play the chaste damsel in distress with me, Pearl. I know what you want, chérie. You want me to fuck your brains out.”

He eased his hard erection between my unyielding thighs, and I closed myself tightly around him, still feigning the “hard to get” female. But within seconds I was whimpering with pleasure. He didn’t slam himself inside me, which was what I was expecting, but started fucking my clit.
Oh my God
 . . . it felt out of this world. He was not even an inch in, but just ramming me back and forth, pummeling me there on my sweet spot—why hadn’t we tried this position before? This was amazing. I was groaning, thrusting myself at him as I sensed my wetness pool with arousal.

“Alexandre, this is . . . wow . . . oh my
God
!”

His hands clutched my hair as he fucked my clit over and over and over, groaning with each thrust, his mouth on mine, his tongue searching my tongue, tangling and lashing at each other as his cock thrashed my nub relentlessly. I always thought it ridiculous when I read about women being “pounded” to orgasm, but it was about to happen. The rhythmic sliding, up and down, had me on the edge. I didn’t want to climax because this felt so fucking amazing that I wanted it to last forever—
so
hot,
so
sexy,
so
incredible—but I opened my legs a touch because my body was doing its own thing. He went in farther. He hit the perfect spot and that was it. Yes, Pearl Robinson was being “pounded” to orgasm.

“Alexandre . . . aaahhhh.” I could hardly say his name as his mouth was hungrily all over mine. “I’m coming . . . oh wow, I’m coming really hard.”

My slickness oozed through the core of me as spasms overtook the center of my body. He fastened his mouth on my throat and sucked, also changing the angle of his hips as the root of his erection pressed into some other magical spot. I felt another wave crash through me. He forced my thighs apart with his knees and I was wide open, my nails scraping his back as my orgasm fluttered down from its peak. He rammed himself into me, filling me with his immense size, and I cried out, desperate for the whole of him.

He growled like a lion, really “fucking my brains out”—it was true, I was no longer coherent. He nipped my neck, covering me with ravenous wet kisses, pumping me deep, ruthlessly—both his hands cupping my ass tightly as he thrust me rhythmically, bringing me as close to his groin as possible with his grip. My hands raked down his back and clawed onto his butt as I brought my legs up and wrapped them around his neck. He was in so deep now it hurt, but I relished the sweet, sharp pain as he pumped his thick length into my womb.

“I. Love. Fucking. You.” His mantra was almost cruel, punctuated with each thrust. “So. Fucking. Wet. So Fucking. Horny. My cock thinks about you. All . . . Day. Long. All. Fucking. Day. Long. Your. Wet. Pearlette. Your. Tight. Horny. Pussy. Always ready to be . . . Fucked. By. Me.”

Our mouths were frantic, tongues lashing out at each other, licking all over, biting, sucking. This was not lovemaking, this was dirty, carnal sin. It was verging on painful, but I wanted it this way. I wanted to feel him. To own him. Laura didn’t elicit this kind of desire from him. I did. I was his addiction. I was his drug.

“Why did you leave me?” I murmured as he crammed all of himself mercilessly into me. “Why didn’t you phone?” I pushed my butt up higher as my ankles closed fast about his neck.

He pulled almost all the way out, tantalizingly slowly. “Because you needed to know how much you wanted me. And I needed to have you desperate for me.” He licked my tongue, speaking only between kisses . . . carnal pools of frantic desire.

“I
am
desperate,” I breathed.

He slammed back into me. “I know . . . your body’s telling me. Do you think about sex with me all day long, Pearl?”

“Yes.” He pulled out teasingly slowly. Sooo slowly.

“Are you cured of your penis phobia?” He thrust himself in really deep, and hard. I groaned. I felt so dominated. Then he eased a tiny way out and sped up, circling his hips.
Oh yes. Oh yes
.

I could hardly speak, but burbled, “Yes, I’m over it. At least
you
override any hang-ups I have. You . . . ” His movements were doing things to my brain, I could barely get the words out . . . “You are different. You . . .
oh, God,
I need you, Alexandre.”

He slammed himself all the way in, brutally. “I know you do. And I need you to need me. Are you done with your lesbian fantasy, too?”

“No, I’ll never be done with lesbian fantasies,” I teased, knowing that would turn him on.

His growl was deep with appreciation with what I’d just said. “Tell me . . . tell me, baby, what you did with Alessandra,” he asked, gyrating his hips again. I could feel how thick he was getting, feel him spreading inside me even more, filling my walls.

“I kissed a girl and I liked it.”

“Oh yeah . . . tell me more.”

I raised my butt up a touch so he was in even deeper. “She licked her tongue in between my legs . . . she made me come.”

“Like I’m coming now, baby. Oh fuck this is intense!” He slammed himself hard up inside me, and a scalding rush of cum shot into my womb, profound and powerful. Then he thrust again and I sensed another charge of semen burst deep within me. “Aah,” he was moaning and crying out. “Jesus, Pearl, only you can do this to me. Fuck!” He was groaning as if in pain.

We remained like that for a good five minutes and then he pulled out, very slowly. I lay there, still doubled up, my butt in the air. There was a marsh between my legs, seeping everywhere. Slowly, I stretched myself out, but Alexandre’s arms were wrapped around me, so I couldn’t escape.

He stroked me gently, running his fingertips along the curve of my ass. I was no longer being devoured, but savored. “Your skin is so soft and flawless, Pearl, so beautiful. You’re intoxicating . . . really . . . I just can’t get enough of you.”

He pressed his muscular thigh into my crotch, and I moved myself gently up and down. At first it felt like a small comfort after being ravaged by him, but as I rubbed myself languorously back and forth on his muscular leg I felt desire building up again until it reached a new crescendo—another climax shuddered through me. I felt his semen hot between my satiated thighs as we both fell into a deep sleep, entwined in each other’s arms.

Several hours later, my eyes sprang open. Alexandre was still fast asleep, but my own worry and angst woke me. Trickles of dawn light made the darkness fade, but it must have still been very early.
Am I
insane?
Nothing was resolved last night! Nothing. The fact that Laura lied to me about Sophie, telling her she wanted to “top me off” –the fact that Alexandre must have told her about my naughty tryst with Alessandra (because nobody else knew except for Alessandra herself)—was all registering in my slow, sex-numbed brain. He really had “fucked my brains out.” Duh! As usual, Pearl Robinson had jumped into the flames without wearing a fireproof vest.

How did Laura have that information about me? Because that bastard, who’s lying beside me now, must have shared it with her, despite his denial. He deserves an Oscar.

I observed him as his breath rose and fell, his pecs strong and firm, the V of his sexy torso ending with his sex tool that he’d used to make me weak. Anger flooded through me, more at myself than with him.
Why did I let him have his way with me last night without talking things properly through?