I didn’t want to admit it, but I wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to Jean-Luc’s warnings. I didn’t know anything about Jenny and I didn’t care. When she had cried about Sylvia, I had wanted to protect her and keep her safe. I was neglecting work and showing her around town. At night, I alternately played with her in the playroom and made love to her in my bedroom and either way, I thrilled in her sweet moans of pleasure.
Yet I couldn’t take her to Hanoi. I wasn’t going to expose her to Dylan. She was bright. She paid attention. She would see the fortified compound, the armed guards and the frightened servants. Dylan liked to show off how obedient Bethany was. She would draw the obvious conclusion and the way she would look at me would change.
More than that, if Dylan leered at her, I would not be able to stop myself from reacting. I knew that. Jenny brought out every protective urge in me. It would lead to a lot of messy complications.
It would be much better if I received the package from Daniel Schneider before I had to fly out. If I had enough on Ellie Samuelson, I wouldn’t even need to go to Hanoi.
That was the better way.
Chapter 15
Ellie / Jenny:
While he was gone, I thought about what this meant.
The reality was, I’d been so focused on getting to Dylan that I’d failed to realize that the likelihood of me surviving Hanoi was extremely small. I might be able to kill Dylan, but there would still be guards with guns. There’d be Alexander, who no doubt would be furious that I’d just killed his client.
Outside the compound, Lucien could arrange reinforcements, but the compound itself was impenetrable. I would have to fight my way out. This would not be an easy task.
All of a sudden, I came face to face with my mortality. Yet if this was the end, then, now more than ever, I wanted Alexander. I wanted to feel loved by a man. I wanted to lose myself in pleasure and I wanted my last memories of sex to be dramatically different from the first ones.
He came back into the library. I could sense the tension radiate off him. “Is everything okay?” I asked.
He didn’t reply. He just looked out of the window for a while.
I rose to my feet and came up to him, putting my arms around his waist and pressing my cheek against his back. “Want to go to the bedroom?” I murmured. “I haven’t been spanked in a while.”
I could see his smile in the reflection in the window. “Is that what you want?” he asked me.
“Yes Alexander,” I whispered.
He suddenly moved behind me and swept me into his arms. For an instant, every bit of training kicked in and I almost fought back, before realizing where I was and who I was with. I forced myself to relax. “Don’t do that,” I chided, trying for a playful tone. “I could have kneed you in the groin, you know.”
His lips twitched. “Well, that would have been a mood-killer,” he said dryly. He carried me up the stairs in his arms, though I protested that he was going to hurt himself. “Shh,” he ordered. “Stop talking.”
We entered his bedroom and he deposited me on the bed. “We’ve got two hours before we are due at the Louvre,” he said. “What do you want to do?” He had a wicked look in his eyes and when I saw the heat in them, an answering fire rose in me.
I smiled at him, bouncing up and down on his mattress, laughing at the look of barely-concealed surprise in his eyes. “We could test the elasticity of your bed,” I giggled. My back was pressed against the soft sheets, my legs spread shamelessly wide in invitation.
He moved like a predatory wolf into the space between my legs, his body weighing mine down. His kisses covered my face, my cheeks, my neck. His hands teased and tugged at my hair. I giggled again as sheer pleasure ran through my body at his touch, and I locked my legs around his hips, pulling him closer. “Alexander,” I moaned.
He didn’t respond. His lips bit and grazed at my neck, while his body rubbed against mine. I felt the outline of his cock through his fine linen trousers and I whimpered softly and ground my pelvis against his erection.
Each hot kiss seemed to send a shock of lust to my clitoris. My * was wet, my panties damp to the touch. His hand curled around the back of my neck, and his lips met mine again. His touch was calm and assured. As always, Alexander was going to set the pace, and I could try to hurry him, though I didn’t think I’d succeed.
I buried my fingers in his short hair and pulled his face deeper into mine. I was panting in arousal, my eyes clenched shut in desire. My fingers tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up and over his chest and throwing it carelessly into a corner.
“Tsk, tsk,” he said, but his eyes had an amused heat to them. “Bossy, aren’t we? If you don’t watch it, cherie, those hands are going to get tied up.”