Deceived - Part 2 Paris by Eve Carter

Author:Eve Carter
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Carter Publishing House
Published: 2013-01-13T00:00:00+00:00

“Let’s get out of here. I am so happy about tonight. Now I want to make the night even more special, with you, Chloe my beautiful lady.” His grip was rough and he pressed me hard against his body, running both hands up into my auburn hair loosening the pins, so it fell down around my shoulders.

Releasing my mouth from his possession, he swept my hair aside, exposing my skin as he trailed a path of feather-light kisses down my bare neck, sending chills up and down my entire body.

“You are an exquisite beauty. That thought ran through my mind, the moment I laid eyes on you, Chloe. I want to paint you...allow me paint you,” he said in a lowered voice.

I dropped my head and rolled it to one shoulder. I couldn’t resist. He was a master at the art of persuasion. “Mmmm...yes, let’s go. I’ll grab a leftover bottle of champagne and we can get out of here,” I murmured.

“Your skin is so soft,” he mouthed into my neck. I could feel the heat of his breath softly palpitating my body and sending my heart rate sky high. “I love the taste of your skin. I want to taste all of you. I want you to give yourself to me tonight...all of it. Every part of your body will be mine tonight.”

Every muscle inside me was taut with lust so it was a very easy decision, “Let’s just get the hell out of here.” We hurried out the door like a whirlwind, past Ryan who was talking and leaning even closer to his new friend. We were like two teenagers, raw with hormones.

His flat was open and free, just like Francisco. It accommodated his studio also, a place where he could live and work at the same time. The furnishings were sparse, most of his studio took up the open space, but it was warm and inviting in the living areas. There was a large creamy white tarp, with random color splats of paint spilled all over it, lying on the floor near a soft brown couch. I briefly had an image of the two of us rolling around in those paint splatters, but shook it out of my head. Brushes, paints and all the other painting paraphernalia were housed on shelves on the adjacent wall.

“Sit. I’ll get some glasses for the champagne.” He motioned to the soft looking couch.

“Francisco, this is just like I had pictured an artist’s flat,” I said as I scoped out the room with a 360-degree visual sweep. “Do you enjoy working in the same place you live?” Strangely, I felt a little unnerved being here alone with him, his intense passion around me at every turn.

Coming over to the couch with the glasses, he sat next to me, gazing at me with his sea-green eyes, his long strands of sandy blonde hair bobbing around his face. It was obvious that he didn't want to make small talk and he continued the focus of the conversation on me, planting a light kiss on my lips, as he handed me my glass.

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