Foreign Love (An International Sports Romance) (Love in Shades) by Cassie-Ann L. Miller Page A
Authors: Cassie-Ann L. Miller
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to me…It’s time I return the favor.”
I have no idea what she has in mind for me, but I’m grinning from ear-to-ear because her expression tells me that I’m in for a treat. She presses her palms flat to my bare chest and pushes me backwards, backwards till I bump up against the bed. With one final shove, I fall across the mattress and she climbs up on top of me. Her lips touch my neck, my shoulder, my chest and she continues to move down, her mouth leaving a trail of warm, stimulated flesh in its wake.
“I will be late for my physiotherapy.” It’s more of a statement than a complaint or a request for her to stop.
I feel her smile against my skin. “You will be late for your physiotherapy.” And then, her lips cover the tip of my cock, sucking softly. Just the tip.
“ Merde ,” I mutter low under my breath as my hand goes to the back of her head and slides down the back of her neck.
And she takes me in, more and more. I can tell the gentle suction is just a warm up. She’s teasing me. I feel the blood rushing through my veins, headed towards my cock. It swells and pulses against her tongue. She picks up the speed, bit by bit, her head bobbing in my lap, her licks contracting and releasing around me.
“Julia… Poupée …” I groan, sinking my head into the pillow and squeezing my eyes shut. And then, I’m thrusting up and into her mouth. At first, I’m making small, restrained movements but then, I’m losing myself, getting wild.
“Hmmm.” She hums low and needy and it vibrates through my over-sensitive erection.
“Fuuccckkk!” I growl, my hand cupping the back of her head, holding her in place, making her feel what she’s doing to me. My muscles are deliciously tense, my every nerve ending is raw. “I’m…coming…” Her movements grow feverish. She’s eager to taste me, to swallow all I leave behind on her tongue.
When she finally pulls away, she falls beside me on the bed. “Oh god…” she mutters licking her lips. “Oh god…”
I look over at her and smile, giving my heart time to regulate its erratic beating.
She smiles back. “You are so fucking late.”
Chapter 17
Julia
I sit patiently in the waiting room, flipping through the same magazine for the third time. Lucien has an appointment with Cynthia today and since I have nothing better to do, I decide to tag along. So, here I am, in a fabric-covered chair opposite the reception desk, pretending not to feel the receptionist shooting venom at me with her stare. When the weight of her hatred becomes too much, I glance up at her and give her the sweetest smile.
She doesn’t reciprocate.
In fact, she sort of snarls at me… O-kay. Time to use the ladies’ room .
I grab my messenger bag and walk the short distance to the washroom, pushing the door open and slinking inside. I’m alone in here. I press my hands against the granite counter, leaning in close to the mirror to inspect myself.
I like the way I look right now…I look good.
But not in a Wow-this-new-shade-of-lip-gloss-really-works-for-me-and-my-smoky-eye-makeup-is-on-point kind of way (actually, my face is completely bare of makeup). But in a healthy, carefree, happy way. I think I’m actually glowing.
My hair was still wet when I weaved it into a single French braid down the back of my head. (Because when in France, do as the French do, y’know?)
My eyes are bright. My lips are red and they won’t stop twitching, a smile playing right beneath the surface.
My fingers flitter across the dark bruise on my neck and the echo of last night’s orgasms reverberates through my mind, causing me to shiver. I press my palm to my mouth to suppress a giggle. Naughty girl.
And just as quickly, my euphoria is replaced by a feeling of utter trepidation rolling down my spine. “What the fuck am I doing?” I mutter to myself. I’ve completely
I have no idea what she has in mind for me, but I’m grinning from ear-to-ear because her expression tells me that I’m in for a treat. She presses her palms flat to my bare chest and pushes me backwards, backwards till I bump up against the bed. With one final shove, I fall across the mattress and she climbs up on top of me. Her lips touch my neck, my shoulder, my chest and she continues to move down, her mouth leaving a trail of warm, stimulated flesh in its wake.
“I will be late for my physiotherapy.” It’s more of a statement than a complaint or a request for her to stop.
I feel her smile against my skin. “You will be late for your physiotherapy.” And then, her lips cover the tip of my cock, sucking softly. Just the tip.
“ Merde ,” I mutter low under my breath as my hand goes to the back of her head and slides down the back of her neck.
And she takes me in, more and more. I can tell the gentle suction is just a warm up. She’s teasing me. I feel the blood rushing through my veins, headed towards my cock. It swells and pulses against her tongue. She picks up the speed, bit by bit, her head bobbing in my lap, her licks contracting and releasing around me.
“Julia… Poupée …” I groan, sinking my head into the pillow and squeezing my eyes shut. And then, I’m thrusting up and into her mouth. At first, I’m making small, restrained movements but then, I’m losing myself, getting wild.
“Hmmm.” She hums low and needy and it vibrates through my over-sensitive erection.
“Fuuccckkk!” I growl, my hand cupping the back of her head, holding her in place, making her feel what she’s doing to me. My muscles are deliciously tense, my every nerve ending is raw. “I’m…coming…” Her movements grow feverish. She’s eager to taste me, to swallow all I leave behind on her tongue.
When she finally pulls away, she falls beside me on the bed. “Oh god…” she mutters licking her lips. “Oh god…”
I look over at her and smile, giving my heart time to regulate its erratic beating.
She smiles back. “You are so fucking late.”
Chapter 17
Julia
I sit patiently in the waiting room, flipping through the same magazine for the third time. Lucien has an appointment with Cynthia today and since I have nothing better to do, I decide to tag along. So, here I am, in a fabric-covered chair opposite the reception desk, pretending not to feel the receptionist shooting venom at me with her stare. When the weight of her hatred becomes too much, I glance up at her and give her the sweetest smile.
She doesn’t reciprocate.
In fact, she sort of snarls at me… O-kay. Time to use the ladies’ room .
I grab my messenger bag and walk the short distance to the washroom, pushing the door open and slinking inside. I’m alone in here. I press my hands against the granite counter, leaning in close to the mirror to inspect myself.
I like the way I look right now…I look good.
But not in a Wow-this-new-shade-of-lip-gloss-really-works-for-me-and-my-smoky-eye-makeup-is-on-point kind of way (actually, my face is completely bare of makeup). But in a healthy, carefree, happy way. I think I’m actually glowing.
My hair was still wet when I weaved it into a single French braid down the back of my head. (Because when in France, do as the French do, y’know?)
My eyes are bright. My lips are red and they won’t stop twitching, a smile playing right beneath the surface.
My fingers flitter across the dark bruise on my neck and the echo of last night’s orgasms reverberates through my mind, causing me to shiver. I press my palm to my mouth to suppress a giggle. Naughty girl.
And just as quickly, my euphoria is replaced by a feeling of utter trepidation rolling down my spine. “What the fuck am I doing?” I mutter to myself. I’ve completely
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