Trust Me (Rough Love #3) by Annabel Joseph Read Free Book Online

out at the lights of the darkening city, so I drew her over to the window. We looked down together at the Rue de Rivoli, the Tuileries Garden across from the hotel, and the Eiffel Tower in the distance. “The Louvre is nearby,” I said. “Maybe you can go there tomorrow.”
    “Maybe. Yes. That would be fun.”
    I tilted her head back to kiss the hollow at the base of her neck. “Thank you,” I said.
    “For what?”
    “For being here with me.”
    She gave a soft laugh. “It’s my pleasure to be with you. Whenever, wherever you want.”
    I replaced my tongue with a firm press of fingers. “Really?”
    She tensed, but didn’t resist. “Really,” she said. “I really like being with you. I love being with you.” She bit her lip, flushing, shy. Adorable. “I love you, Price.”
    I looked at her, wondering what to say. I loved her, yes, but that wasn’t encompassing enough. She needed another poem. Maybe I could work on one tomorrow, during breaks in the symposium. A knock interrupted my awkward silence, and she started to pull away.
    I yanked her back, held her neck, and pressed my forehead to hers. “I love you, starshine.”
    The breath she’d been holding eased out. She needed me to avow my love, so I did, but I felt so much more for her—both good and bad.
    We sat and ate together in a half-dark hotel room looking out at the Paris lights, and then fell into bed, sexually and gastronomically spent. We shed the robes and slid under the sheets, too exhausted to kiss or fuck or do anything but drift to oblivion in each other’s arms. Tomorrow, we’d conquer the city. Tonight, we needed sleep.

CHAPTER FOUR
    Paris
    I woke to Price pressed against my back, his cock pushing inside me. I stretched and arched within his muscular grasp. His stubbled cheeks pricked me as he kissed my neck, then closed his teeth on my earlobe.
    “Ow,” I said drowsily. “No biting.”
    “Don’t tell me what to do,” he said, but his bite gentled to a nibble. I looked back over my shoulder in the gray morning light, holding his gaze as he slid deeper inside me. His eyes were so blue, so intent even in the dim hotel room.
    “Paris makes me horny,” he said through his teeth.
    “Oh. Good.” His fingers roved over my body, touching all my sensitive spots, all my curves. One of his hands eventually found its way to my neck, but unlike last night, he didn’t grip me. He stroked over my pulse instead. I squirmed and squeezed on his cock as my pussy came to life. I arched for more. Oh yes, yeah, please, my G-spot…
    He held my hips, stilling my movements. “Don’t be a mindless little slut,” he chided. “Or I might not let you come.”
    I whined and felt his smile against my cheek. I loved when he was playful, when we had close, affectionate encounters under the covers before we got up. He pressed inside me again, so, so slow, holding my hips so I couldn’t bounce back against him the way I wanted to. I arched so my shoulder blades rubbed against his chest.
    “I guess Paris makes you horny too, little slave girl.”
    Little slave girl. Yes, I’m your slave. Yes, you make me so horny and excited. He let go of my hips and circled my waist, holding me against him. Even when he was slow and sensual, he maintained control. I loved it. Without that control, I would have been lost.
    “Oh, please,” I said, writhing against his hard muscles as he entered me again.
    He waited inside me, scratching my cheek and jaw with a series of fleeting kisses. “You want more?” he asked.
    “Yes, Sir, I want more.” I knew my part in this erotic drama. “Please, give me more.”
    “Tell me what you want. You want it in another hole?” I sighed as he squeezed my ass cheeks, parting them, teasing me with a threat. “You want me in your tight little asshole?”
    “Yes, Sir, I would love that,” I breathed.
    “It might hurt. Do you want me to hurt you?”
    “I always want you to hurt me.” That was the goddamn truth. Since we’d