Little Red Writing by Lila DiPasqua

their pleasure. Then they take their leave.”
    Merde . What was Henriette filling her head with? “Not all men are the same. Some of us enjoy giving pleasure as well as receiving it. There’s nothing sweeter than a woman’s release.” Those spine-melting ripples along his thrusting prick when a woman came were exquisite, and something he’d never forgo. “It is a heady rush—empowering—to have someone desperate for you. Desperate for what you can give.”
    His words hit their mark. He saw curiosity spark in her eyes. She was intrigued. Clearly, she liked the idea of feeling empowered. It occurred to him just then, She doesn’t want to feel vulnerable .
    It was a barrier for her—one he intended to knock down.
    To that end, Nicolas yanked her up against him harder and said, “You have me desperate for you. For what you can give—yourself.” It was no lie. “So desperate, in fact, that I’ve got to have your mouth right now.”
    He crushed her lips, unsure whether she was going to protest. His kiss was hard and hungry, wanting to be inside her more than he wanted his next breath. She parted her lips and pressed her soft form against him. His arousal spiked, hurling him into a feral state, like none he’d known before. Voracious, he drove his tongue into her mouth. She tasted so good. He needed more.
    His practiced fingers pulled at the ties on her bodice, impatiently separating it and yanking down her clothing until at last he uncovered her breasts.
    Nicolas broke the kiss, his breaths harsh and rapid. He devoured the vision before him. Her breasts weren’t large or small, but perfect. His mouth watered.
    The gold locket dangled between the soft tempting mounds. It was suddenly an annoying distraction. He didn’t want to think about the key inside. Or his mission. Right now, all he wanted to concentrate on was showing her just how good sex could be, knowing instinctively from the first moment their gazes had met that any carnal encounter between them was sure to be hot and intense.
    Nicolas pulled the locket off. She made a small sound in protest.
    “Shhhh. It’s all right,” he soothed. “It’s in the way.”
    Pressing his palm against the nape of her neck, he pulled her forward and kissed her again, slow and deep, dropping the locket with a clunk onto the desk, so that she knew it was nearby.
    She returned his kiss, her hands still clutching the lapels of his knee-length coat. He cupped her breast and grazed his thumb over one hardened nipple. She shivered.
    Nicolas pinched, then lightly pulled on the pretty pink tip. Breaking the kiss, she tipped her head back with a soft cry, her glorious red hair spilling over her shoulders.
    Good God, she was so sensuous.
    Hot urgency thundered through him. His sac was so full of come, he could barely stand it. “Anne . . .” His voice was gruff with desire.
    She opened her eyes, her gaze deliciously heated.
    “You want more, don’t you?” He rolled her nipple between his fingers. She whimpered.
    He rolled the pebbled tip a little harder and was instantly rewarded with a stronger mew. “You like that? You want more?” he repeated.
    She trembled. “Yes . . .”
    He released her nipple, pushed her onto her back, then pinned her wrists against the desk. She stared up at him, her sweet breasts rising and falling with each rapid breath. “Good, because I’m going to give you more.”
    He lowered his head and sucked her nipple into his hungry mouth.
    Anne arched off the desk with a strangled cry, lost to the wet heat drawing on the sensitive tip, each luscious pull of his mouth making her writhe and her sex leak. She’d never known such keen sensations, such engulfing need.
    She’d never known a man like Nicolas de Savignac. There were many reasons she shouldn’t be doing what she was doing, but with each silky suck of his mouth, her reasons eluded her and she couldn’t think of one. For once, she didn’t want to think. She wanted to feel. Anne