“As a matter of fact, there was another reason besides my lying sister. As if that wasn’t a good enough reason right there.”
“It wasn’t a good enough reason and you know it wasn’t because, eventually, you figured out she was lying.”
That was true. Sort of true. “I wasn’t sure what parts were true and what wasn’t. You frequented the clubs and there were all kinds of articles written up about you and then you said those things to Jean-Claude that seemed to reference kinky sex so I thought she could be semi-telling the truth.”
“You knew she lied,” he reiterated and stood up, once more towering over her.
Brielle sighed. “I want to go to bed and just stop talking for at least a year.”
To her shock, he laughed. “I’ll just bet you do. Finish getting ready and come to bed. We can talk about this tomorrow.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Brielle woke up gasping for breath, her body desperate, needy, crying out for fulfillment. She’d had this erotic dream dozens of times, but not in such vivid, colorful detail. Her brain couldn’t quite distinguish between reality and fantasy. It seemed as though she was lying in bed with Elie’s naked body coiled tight around hers. He had one knee in between her thighs and his cock nestled between her butt cheeks. He moved—or she did—it had to be him because the rocking of the hips was gentle when she was frantic and his cock wasn’t hitting the spots she needed him to touch.
That was so like him. He always tormented her. Made her beg him for what she wanted most. She bucked against him, but that gentle rocking never changed rhythm. He was that in control. His arm was a weight around her, one hand cupping her breast. Her nipple was buried in his palm rather than between his fingers. There was no satisfying hard pinch. He wasn’t talking dirty to her. Why wasn’t he murmuring in her ear with that velvet, commanding voice?
Reality began to seep into erotica and she fought to calm her breathing and still her body, sending up silent prayers to the universe that she hadn’t been moaning or begging him aloud. As erotic dreams went—and she was used to them now—this one topped the others by a mile. She couldn’t quite slow her breathing, no matter how hard she tried. Having Elie’s hard body wrapped so tightly around hers didn’t help in the least.
She wanted to ease out from under him just to be able to give her body a little respite, but she knew if she did, Elie would wake up instantly. He’d be aware of her heightened sexual state and that would be one more humiliation to add to the long list she already had going. She lay quietly, staring up at the ceiling, counting her heartbeats, contemplating what she was going to do.
She was married to Elie freaking Archambault. The man of her fantasies. It was one thing to fantasize over a gorgeous man, so clearly experienced in everything she had tried to learn to be, but clearly was not. It was another thing to actually have Elie in her bed. Had he been a complete stranger, she was confident she could have handled anything demanded of her.
Brielle had researched everything she had been sexually drawn to very carefully. She was the queen of research. There were few who could match her on a computer. If she had a strong psychic instinct, it was following a trail on a computer. The moment her fingers touched a keyboard, she seemed to know which direction she needed to go and how to get there. She might be an emotional person, but she understood the logic of a computer.
She had learned where to go to get the physical experience, which turned out to be more like a scientific exploration until she realized all she had to do was add Elie Archambault into the fantasy of whatever scene she was exploring and she would manage to find excitement in it.
“Bébé, can’t you sleep?” Elie stirred, his voice a little husky with sleep. He didn’t remove his hand from her breast. Instead, his thumb brushed along the lower curve, instantly causing every nerve ending to flare back to total awareness when her body had just begun to settle down. The sound of his voice, that soft velvet mixing with the dark rasp of sleep, added to the intoxicating, addictive and all-too-enthralling sensations pouring over her in the darkness.
“My mind is all over the place.” That was the truth. She hoped he didn’t question her any further. She wasn’t going to admit her body was on fire. She willed him to go to sleep. Didn’t men just turn over and go to sleep?
He shifted back, just his torso, keeping his hips and groin firmly pressed against her backside. His knee remained between her thighs. She should have been happy when he took his hand from her breast, but she wasn’t. She found having him cup the weight of her in his hand was sexy. It didn’t matter that her body was on fire just lying next to him. The feeling of her nipple pressed tightly into the center of his palm added to the flames burning between her legs, and she craved that feeling.