Anita’s POV
Jean-Claude
swept me up off of my feet, and I let out that surprised yip
that
is remotely a girl sound. And if it’s not, it should be. He carried
me
into the bedroom, setting me down on the soft feather mattress. My
body
sank into the mattress. He crawled over me, leaning over me on hands
and
knees. “I had something in mind of this nature,” he said. Running his
lips
down my neck and collarbone, he traced a line up my thigh with his
fingertips.
The two combined sensations tore a gasp from my lips.
Jean-Claude
ducked his head to kiss me, cutting me off in mid gasp.
Trailing
kisses from my mouth down, he blazed a trail down my jaw, my
neck,
until he reached the collar of my button down shirt. Using his
fangs,
he sliced the thread on all of the buttons, baring more and more
of
my chest and torso with each button gone.
“I never liked this shirt much anyway,” I commented, looking down at the
ruined
buttons. Jean-Claude chuckled, and knelt over my body, his weight
pushing
down on my legs. I sat up, so Jean-Claude could push my shirt
from
my shoulders, flinging the garment across the room to hit the nearby
wall
with a soft sound of clothy impact. My fingers traveled to the
buttons
of his white shirt. He had only unbuttoned the first few this
night,
leaving me with more work than usual. “Now, if I popped the
buttons
off of YOUR shirt, you’d be pissed.” I drew his shirt from his
pants,
and tossed it off to the floor next to the bed, not quite such a
far
toss as he had projected my shirt.
“Perhaps, but my shirt did not come from…JC Penny or somewhere similar.”
Jean-Claude
trailed his fingertips down the front of my body, brushing
against
the aroused tips of my breasts, dragging against my ribcage, and
traveling
down to the waistline of my jeans.
“You say JC Penny like it’s a bad thing,” I said, my voice breathy, my
head
thrown back.
“Hmmm. Not a bad thing, per say. But I will admit, I prefer you OUT of
their
clothes, rather than in them,” he commented with a wicked smile.
His
light touch made me suck in my stomach. “The Executioner is ticklish.
I
knew it, all along!”
“Well aren’t we just the comedian tonight?” I said sarcastically.
“I have my moments.” Jean-Claude unbuttoned my jeans, and unzipped the
fly.
Crawling back down my body, he drew my jeans with him, until they
were
just another pile of cloth on the floor, joining his shirt and mine.
He
stole my lips for his own in a passionate kiss, once again leaning
over
my body on all fours. My hands traveled up the soft skin of his
arms,
running over the contours of his muscles. I dragged my hands down
his
sides, his ribcage. His skin was so soft, so perfect, so unblemished.
And
it was hard to believe he belonged to ME. Jean-Claude traveled down
to
my neck, showering gentle kisses over my neck and shoulders. He
snapped
the strap of my panties playfully. “You know, a Chinese proverb
once
said, ‘Panties not best thing on earth but next to best thing on
earth.’”
I laughed, giggled even, resting my forehead on the bend of
Jean-Claude’s
neck. “I don’t even want to know where you picked that one
up,”
I said through my laughter.
“That is good, ma petite, because I am not sure if I could tell you.
Probably
from Jason, one of his little jokes.”
“That would make sense.”
Jean-Claude brushed his lips on mine. “Now where was I?” He reached
around
behind me, unhooking my bra. He slid the garment down my arms and
shoulders
slowly, making me painfully aware of every nerve in my body.
With
his lips on mine, he pushed me back down to lay on the feather
mattress.
“This seems like a good spot to resume attentions,” he
whispered,
taking one breast into his mouth. He teased the nipple with
his
tongue, and bit down gently, hard enough to tear another gasp from my
throat,
but no pain. He kissed a line down the center of my body, slowly
working
his way down and down. Jean-Claude ran his tongue over my belly
button,
once again making me suck in my stomach. There was a smile this
time,
but no comment as to how ticklish the Executioner was.
Jean-Claude’s fingers hooked into the sides of my panties, and pulled
down
quickly over my hips, suddenly leaving me naked before him. He then
removed
his black jeans. I didn’t know if he had read my mind, or sensed
my
uncomfortableness of being the only one completely au naturelle, or
had
just decided it was time for that restrictive garment to go. His
hands
behind my knees, he pulled up to bend my knees. He planted a gentle
kiss
on my knee, and rested his chin on it, his eyes sweeping down the
length
of my body with a hungry expression. “You are the embodiment of
beauty
itself, ma petite.”
My thoughts traveled to how perfect Julianna was, but I said nothing. I
was
learning when to keep my mouth shut, to not spoil the moment.
Jean-Claude’s
lips traveled down the inside of my thigh, leaving wet
trails
here and there with sporadic flicks of the tongue. He reached my
center,
my nether mouth, and flicked out his tongue, once, one long sure
stroke,
making me throw my head back with the sensations that took me
over,
and anticipation for the sensations to come. I was surprised at how
wet
I had become already. Jean-Claude must have noticed this as well,
because
he moved up once again, sliding his body against mine, until the
tip
of his head rested against my opening, hovering, waiting, teasing. I
suddenly
wanted that more than anything his mouth could offer.
Jean-Claude must have sensed this, because he pushed inside of me,
slowly
but surely to the hilt. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation.
I
loved the feeling, not just the sheer pleasure of it, though that was
in
there, but the feeling of becoming one with the man I loved. The
absolute
adrenalin rush of our two bodies becoming one. Jean-Claude began
to
move slowly inside of me, but then increased his pace faster and
faster
until I was on the shining edge of climax. But then suddenly he
began
to slow his pace, his strokes longer and slower, more spaced out. I
moaned
in protest, and opened my eyes to look up at Jean-Claude. He
smiled,
a wicked curl of lips. “Are you convinced now, ma petite?”
I moaned, not thinking I was capable of speech, tossing my head from
side
to side. He must have taken it as a no, because he slowed even more,
agonizingly
so. “Are you convinced now?” he asked, even in the throes of
passion,
I could hear the amusement in his voice.
“Yes!” I exclaimed, thrusting my pelvis forward in an attempt to get
closer
to him. With that answer Jean-Claude plunged inside of me once
again,
hard and fast. Once, twice, three times. The fourth stroke was my
undoing,
pushing me over the brink, that shining ecstasy. He orgasmed
moments
later, spilling his seed into me in a scalding but thrilling rush
of
fluid. My name parted his lips in a husky tone, “Anita.”
Jean-Claude collapsed on top of me, burying his face in my hair so as
not
to smother me with his chest. Moments or hours may have passed with
us
like this, holding each other, our hearts beating in time. He drew out
of
me, that organ slick with my fluids and his. Jean-Claude kissed me,
almost
innocently. “I think that Chinese proverb was right,” he whispered
above
my lips.