26 Hours in Paris (8 page)

Kat's unfocused eyes spoke volumes. Her hips bucked off the leather, and he instantly pushed her dress up and cupped her ass.

“You're driving me insane,” he said, worshiping the soft skin with his tongue and sliding beneath the lace barrier to taste her. “This has to go.” He tugged on the lace. “It all has to go.”

He ripped off the panties and tossed the vibrator to the side. His patience was spent. He needed to taste her, feel her unravel, and all as quickly as possible. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held him against her intoxicating center. He licked through her wet folds and suckled the excited nub into his mouth, unable to satiate his hunger for the woman. He wanted all of her. Needed her.

Spreading the moisture between the swollen folds, he pushed a finger through the muscled resistance of her backside and thrust his tongue inside her honey. Her body trembled, and as he feasted on the woman he hungered for, her climax hit.

Her hold tightened in his hair. She called his name.

“Marko. Yes. Marko,” she repeated, shattering beneath his mouth. “My Marko.”

“Your Marko,” he confirmed, kissing the insides of her thighs and resting his head on her leg. His heart pounded so hard in his chest, it was difficult to breathe. He caressed her trembling legs and wrapped his fingers around the beautiful curves. “My Kat, completely and fully and always mine.”

She smoothed her hands through his hair, and breathed softer as the waves of pleasure subsided and her body relaxed.

“I want one more,” Marko said, leaning against her thigh and fitting a finger inside her. “I want to feel you come again.”

“My body can't take more,” she insisted. “I won't be able to walk.”

“I'll carry you. We have so much time to make up for, so many orgasms to capture.” He curved a second finger inside her channel, and found the special spot hidden within. “This one is only for me.”

She ground against the heel of his palm. He circled her clit with his thumb and stroked her G-spot between his fingers, coaxing more sighs of submission from her lips.

“Come for me, sweetheart. Come hard.”

K
at's neck couldn't support the weight of her head, so she leaned against the softness of the seat and watched as he poured a glass of water. She accepted it and slowly sipped the cool liquid, allowing time for her mind to clear and feeling to return to her jellied limbs.

Her strong and powerful man meticulously cleaned and dressed her, sliding her own pair of silk panties up her legs and lowering her dress to cover them. She still wasn't able to move, but she was suddenly aware of their surroundings.

“Where is Jean-Luc?”

Marko lifted his chin and indicated the area behind the car's trunk. She turned to see the driver speaking with an officer. “He's probably sweet-talking his way out of a citation.”

She gathered her coat and wrapped it around her knees.

Marko laughed. “No one can see in, sweetheart. The tint provides full privacy.” He smoothed the coat over her legs and worked the buttons. “Jean-Luc is probably spinning a beautiful tale on our behalf. He's quite the romantic. I wouldn't be surprised to hear him telling that pretty police officer that we are in need of some time to settle a lovers' quarrel before we tour the Eiffel Tower.”

The only thing settled was that Kat was completely and utterly owned. Marko had owned her heart for years, and now he owned her body. She'd never responded to a man like she did to him. She was completely spent and totally consumed by the man. She'd shed all her inhibitions and ignored logical boundaries. She'd never be able to limit future interactions to simple friendship again. She was truly fucked. She couldn't deny needing him any longer.

Whereas she'd been adrift in emotional and sensation bliss, and totally incapable of coherent thoughts, Marko had focused on her needs. He'd seen to her and her alone. It was only right for him to find his pleasure. For her to see to him.

“No thinking,” Marko reminded her, dropping a kiss on her lips. “You promised.”

“I was thinking,” she admitted, feeling her skin prickle at the brazen thoughts flashing through her mind. “I was thinking that you are the most selfless and generous lover. You didn't get off.”

She reached for him and pressed an open palm over the impressive bulge at his groin. He was so hard.

“Oh, but I will,” he promised. “
After
we get the sightseeing part of our agenda out of the way, and when I have my two hours.”

“So our car ride doesn't count toward your two hours?”

“No. I'll take all the time I can get.” He reached for the purple vibrator and tossed it in the paper package. “Kat, you have a way of altering everything I plan. The original idea was for you to wear the damn thing on the ride up the tower. I was going to make you wait. You were supposed to climax at the top, but the gorgeous color and delicious scent of your excitement couldn't be put off. I needed to see you come as soon as possible. I need you again.”

“I need you, too.” Kat reached for him and let her fingers explore his magnificent mouth. She ran her fingers over his lips, and her heart filled with love and admiration as he sucked on them, before claiming her mouth in a slow kiss. His tongue glided over hers, coaxing her to surrender to the chemistry that sizzled between them. The opportunity to enjoy his kind strength wouldn't last, but she was damned if she wouldn't revel in it for the moment.

As if seeing her inner thoughts, he broke the kiss and took her other hand, tenderly easing his thumb over her knuckles. He turned it and placed a kiss in the center of her palm. “Are you ready to experience the Eiffel Tower?”

She nodded. She was ready for anything she could have with him.

Marko rapped on the window, and Jean-Luc swiftly appeared and opened Kat's door. He offered Kat his hand. “
Mademoiselle, c'est bon?
”

“Yes, I'm fine.” She looked into telling seafoam-colored eyes, and a tingle ran down her spine. Jean-Luc knew what had happened in the vehicle, but he approved. The comforting green gaze offered pleased assurance.

“Ask Marko to stop at the snack bar before you enter the lift,” the driver said in a low tone. “The chocolate croissants are divine.”

“
Merci
, Jean-Luc,” she replied, making room for Marko to stand beside her as the driver stepped away. She reached for Marko and adjusted his tie, placing her palm on the white dress shirt and smiling. “I'm with a handsome man, in a gorgeous city, and counting my lucky stars. I'm so glad Paul and Justin told you I was coming. I'm even grateful for the feature competition.”

“Yes. You came to Paris. You came to me.”

True. From the moment she'd decided on the trip, she'd known that rendezvousing with Marko was highly likely. If she were honest, she'd admit it had been her secret motivation. Honesty took guts. She wasn't brave enough for such an admission. “Amongst other things, it really gives us time to catch up. Thank you for making time.”

“Making time?” Marko shook his head and sucked air between his teeth. “Not how I'd describe it,
bella
. I've been counting time waiting for you.” He fit a finger beneath her chin and angled her face to his. His mouth lingered inches above her lips, and his warm breath tickled her senses. His dark gaze settled on her eyes. “It's also not about catching up, sweetheart. Don't fool yourself or lie to me.”

Marko closed the space between them and settled his lips on her mouth. Patient but sure, he waited until her lips parted and her tongue swept out in search of his. The kiss was sweet and quick. He lifted his head and gave her a wicked smile.

“What?” Kat asked.

“Selfish thoughts, my dear. Very selfish.” He traced his thumb pad over her trembling lip. “Men like their toys. Your body is my dream toy. I can't wait to explore every inch. To touch every trigger. And to turn you on so hard that you will writhe in my hold and beg me for more.”

Heat crawled up her neck. She dropped her gaze to his chest. “I think you've already managed to make me beg.”

“Not nearly enough to satisfy my ego,” he said, straightening, tucking the wrap around her, and arranging her beret. “The wind will be cold.”

She wanted to tell him that if she fed his ego any more, it would swell to an unmanageable size. But she didn't. His ego and arrogance were part of his allure.

He laced her hand through his arm and led them into the crowd of tourists. English, German, Italian, and Chinese words floated in the air. Vendors peddled their souvenirs. Police moved stragglers along. There was so much going on, but all Kat could feel was the way Marko's fingers closed over hers.

“Don't get me wrong, because I'm not complaining. I'm actually very grateful, but I'm also baffled,” Marko said. “You are so responsive,
bella
. Absolutely sexy and beautiful. How is it possible that some shrewd New Yorker doesn't have you tied to his bed and at his mercy?”

She released a slow, long breath and shook her head.
It's because no shrewd New Yorker could measure up to my arrogant overseas god.
“It's not that simple.”

“Why is that?”

Kat shrugged and stared straight ahead at the iconic steel structure.

“Do you trust me?” He squeezed her hand and urged her to look at him. Concern and something she couldn't recognize filled his dark eyes.

“Of course,” she replied. She trusted him completely. She'd always trusted him.

“Then you will let me know everything you want and desire, regardless of circumstances or timing. Everything. Understood?” He tightened his hold. “I will see to everything you need and give you everything you want. The only requirements are your honesty and trust.”

Nodding her agreement, Kat continued her deep breathing and focused on walking straight ahead. Images of her hands and feet tied at the corners of
his
bed and of herself at
his
mercy played in her head.

“Would you tie me to your bed?” She mentally kicked herself in the ass the second the words were out.

“In a heartbeat,” he replied.

Wanton desire hissed through her body and sizzled between her legs. He meant it. Marko would fulfill her every fantasy. She didn't need to hide her sexual hunger and she didn't need to ignore her longings.

“What are you thinking?”

“I'm thinking we should hurry to the top of the Eiffel Tower, see the beauty of the city, and retreat to a private place.” She glanced up at him. “Toys are designed for play. I want you to play with your toy.”

“
C'est bon.”
He grinned and hastened his stride.

Marko was pleased, which in turn pleased Kat. She had done the right thing. She'd told him what she wanted. Kat walked on clouds, impatient to reach the lifts and finish the tour. She could see the long lines of tourists, and was tempted to call off the excursion and spend the remainder of her time satiating her carnal cravings.

The reality of the situation kept her silent. She needed the research. She wanted the byline. If she allowed herself to follow her heart, she'd lose herself and all she'd worked for. Being with Marko always carried that risk.

A young boy approached with a bronze replica and offered it at a special price to the “pretty lady.” Marko drew her close and raised his brow in a negative response, surprising Kat with the harsh manners.

“Unfortunately, he is not an innocent child,” Marko said against her ear. “The athletic shoes he's wearing cost well over two hundred euros.” He stopped in front of a table dressed in a tattered gold cloth. “We'll choose something from this woman. It seems like she can use the business and will appreciate the support. She's also not harassing the other tourists.”

The woman held out a heavy marble paperweight depiction of the Eiffel Tower. “Dis?”

Kat smiled at the elderly woman, who motioned for her to examine the souvenir. Truth was, she didn't care for a tchotchke. “The apartment is rather small. I don't want to crowd it with dust collectors,” she explained in a whisper for only Marko to hear. “Something smaller in size, please.”

The older woman pointed to a silver heart keychain, with a small, dangling Eiffel Tower in the middle. “Dis?”

“Um . . .”

“
Bon,”
Marko said, taking the keychain and adding a pair of silver earrings to the mix. “
Merci, madame
.”

The vendor quickly wrapped the jewelry and tchotchke in a floral paper, offering it to Marko. He dropped the package in his coat pocket and handed her a hundred-euro bill, lifting his hand to indicate for her to keep the change.

Kat looked up at him and laughed. “When are you going to wear dangling, rhinestone-encrusted Eiffel Tower earrings?”

“I'm not. But I know a little girl who will love them,” he said, turning his back on the souvenir stand. “Plus, I think that lady deserves the money. She doesn't hustle visitors and works hard for a living. You can see it in her eyes.”

Saying she was proud of him seemed vain and inadequate. It was more like she admired him and his insight. “Thank you for the keychain. It's perfect.”

“
Bon, bella.
Now are you heeding Jean-Luc's advice and stopping for a bite before we enter the lifts?”

“Yes, that sounds wonderful. It seems like the French air makes me famished.”

He grinned, smug as ever, and took her hand. “I'm sure it's the air.”

Shaking her head, she took a deep breath, and snuggled close to him. She'd missed his self-assured remarks, but damn if the man was ever wrong. “You know you're just a bit cocky.”

“So you've said.” His dimpled chin lifted a little higher. The man was so incorrigible. He always thought he knew best, and Kat secretly, only secretly, admitted to believing he was right.

Marko's analytical mind and determined will were unstoppable powers in the world of business. On a personal level, he was respectful and caring to all he loved. People, places, and products amongst them all.

Smart, good looking, and loyal, the prominent man was any mother's dream for her daughter. On more than one occasion, Kat's mom had asked what had happened to her best friend. Past . . . that was the past, she reminded herself. He wasn't hers. She had no right.
Keep things simple, Kat.

“Is being cocky how you went from a growth”—she hooked two fingers of her free hand into quotation marks by her head when she said growth—“position at the World Bank to being one of the greatest assets and the youngest junior partner at the largest financial company in all of Europe?”

“I like that version,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Even more, I like that I'm not the only one who has kept tabs on an old schoolmate.”

Busted. He'd never discussed his career with her, but she'd confessed to knowing it well. She sucked on her lower lip, but didn't miss a step. “It was hard not to stay in the know where you're concerned. You were splashed on every society or finance page at every newsstand.”

“Right. At some point today, I'd like to talk about some business meetings I have tomorrow,
bella
.”

She pressed her palm against the dancing butterflies in her stomach. “Is it bad?”

“No. It's all good. Let's table the discussion for later though.” He led her through the crowd, and without asking, he ordered a single chocolate croissant. “This should hold my little chocoholic for an hour or so. We'll enjoy the real deal from the
boulangerie
next door to the apartment. Antoine makes the best croissants, obviously his late wife's recipe.”