the lock of her building, pushed open the door and stepped in with one final, scared look over her shoulder.
He waited until the lights went on in her apartment before he jogged across the street and let himself into the building with his own key. He paused in front of her apartment door and put his hand to it, closing his eyes.
He had a duplicate key. He could enter. For a moment he let himself think of the possibilities. Of what he would do to her. Of her fear. Her struggles. The thoughts excited him. His blood hummed through his veins, pooling in his lower regions. He snatched his hand away, breaking the ties of a lust he had no business feeling if he wanted to accomplish his task.
He moved past her door and entered Giselle’s apartment without knocking.
Giselle looked up from tying the sash of a white, silk robe around her slim waist. She paused, one delicious knee parting the folds of the silk. He was already hard. Not for Giselle, but for the other woman. The one who’d always looked at him in loathing as if he were never good enough for her.
In a few quick strides he was beside Giselle, shoving her against the wall so her back was to him. He hiked up the robe, pulled his stiff cock out, closed his eyes and pictured Madelaine. He fondled himself, making his erection hard to the point of pain, then shoved himself inside Giselle with one brutal stroke. She was hot and wet and ready for him and she moaned as he pounded into her.
He hated her with a ferociousness that went bone deep and spanned centuries. He hated her, yet he couldn’t stay away from her and his weakness fanned the flames of his hatred. He took her hard, hammering into her until her hips hit the wall and she grunted with each thrust. It excited her. She loved sex like this and her excitement excited him, but it also disgusted him.
She came fast and furious, bucking against him so violently he was unable to control his own orgasm.
Afterward he didn’t waste time with pleasantries. Angry he’d given in to his lust, furious for being so weak he couldn’t control himself, he zipped up. Giselle leaned against the wall with a smile of satisfaction that made him grimace.
“Feel better?” she smirked.
He turned away, too sickened to look at her, and headed for the door, not knowing where he was going, but knowing he couldn’t stay here any longer.
“Christien returned the papers.”
Giselle’s words stilled his hand on the knob. He turned back to her. She was leaning against the wall, her white robe gaping open to reveal the valley between perfect breasts and the long length of one leg.
She blinked slowly, her eyelids heavy. No doubt she was still immersed in the aftermath of orgasmic sex. She would still be pulsing inside. The thought aroused him again, but he ignored it. She would want him to come to her while they spoke of Madelaine and he refused to.
“And?”
She shrugged. The silk slithered down one creamy shoulder. His mouth watered for more of her, but he viciously restrained the impulse. No matter how hard he tried to stop it, she was like a drug to him, a craving he couldn’t deny.
“She retrieved the papers and returned them to me.” She pushed away from the wall and sauntered over to the couch where she sat in the corner, one leg stretching the length of it. Half the robe draped to the floor and Giselle shifted, hiding her womanhood from him with a knowing smile.
“Do you have them?” He dragged his gaze from the closely shaved curls she’d blocked from his view. He was curious as to what Chevalier’s response was. He hadn’t tried hiding the fact that the papers were a scam to get Madelaine into Chevalier’s club. Lucheux tried to picture a confused Chevalier but the image wouldn’t come. He’d never seen the man anything but confident. Damn him.
“I left them at the office.” Her smile told him she knew of her power over him and gloried in it. His anger flared, but he tamped down on it. Their relationship
He waited until the lights went on in her apartment before he jogged across the street and let himself into the building with his own key. He paused in front of her apartment door and put his hand to it, closing his eyes.
He had a duplicate key. He could enter. For a moment he let himself think of the possibilities. Of what he would do to her. Of her fear. Her struggles. The thoughts excited him. His blood hummed through his veins, pooling in his lower regions. He snatched his hand away, breaking the ties of a lust he had no business feeling if he wanted to accomplish his task.
He moved past her door and entered Giselle’s apartment without knocking.
Giselle looked up from tying the sash of a white, silk robe around her slim waist. She paused, one delicious knee parting the folds of the silk. He was already hard. Not for Giselle, but for the other woman. The one who’d always looked at him in loathing as if he were never good enough for her.
In a few quick strides he was beside Giselle, shoving her against the wall so her back was to him. He hiked up the robe, pulled his stiff cock out, closed his eyes and pictured Madelaine. He fondled himself, making his erection hard to the point of pain, then shoved himself inside Giselle with one brutal stroke. She was hot and wet and ready for him and she moaned as he pounded into her.
He hated her with a ferociousness that went bone deep and spanned centuries. He hated her, yet he couldn’t stay away from her and his weakness fanned the flames of his hatred. He took her hard, hammering into her until her hips hit the wall and she grunted with each thrust. It excited her. She loved sex like this and her excitement excited him, but it also disgusted him.
She came fast and furious, bucking against him so violently he was unable to control his own orgasm.
Afterward he didn’t waste time with pleasantries. Angry he’d given in to his lust, furious for being so weak he couldn’t control himself, he zipped up. Giselle leaned against the wall with a smile of satisfaction that made him grimace.
“Feel better?” she smirked.
He turned away, too sickened to look at her, and headed for the door, not knowing where he was going, but knowing he couldn’t stay here any longer.
“Christien returned the papers.”
Giselle’s words stilled his hand on the knob. He turned back to her. She was leaning against the wall, her white robe gaping open to reveal the valley between perfect breasts and the long length of one leg.
She blinked slowly, her eyelids heavy. No doubt she was still immersed in the aftermath of orgasmic sex. She would still be pulsing inside. The thought aroused him again, but he ignored it. She would want him to come to her while they spoke of Madelaine and he refused to.
“And?”
She shrugged. The silk slithered down one creamy shoulder. His mouth watered for more of her, but he viciously restrained the impulse. No matter how hard he tried to stop it, she was like a drug to him, a craving he couldn’t deny.
“She retrieved the papers and returned them to me.” She pushed away from the wall and sauntered over to the couch where she sat in the corner, one leg stretching the length of it. Half the robe draped to the floor and Giselle shifted, hiding her womanhood from him with a knowing smile.
“Do you have them?” He dragged his gaze from the closely shaved curls she’d blocked from his view. He was curious as to what Chevalier’s response was. He hadn’t tried hiding the fact that the papers were a scam to get Madelaine into Chevalier’s club. Lucheux tried to picture a confused Chevalier but the image wouldn’t come. He’d never seen the man anything but confident. Damn him.
“I left them at the office.” Her smile told him she knew of her power over him and gloried in it. His anger flared, but he tamped down on it. Their relationship
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