Philippe sprang to his feet applauding loudly. “Magnifique. Magnifique.” He dropped to his knees beside her and peppered kisses all over her face.
Big heaving breaths escaped Sam’s chest as a satisfied smile spread across her face. She licked her lips, eager for a drink. Registering the need, Philippe bounced from the bed and returned with a glass of water. ‘Samantha O’Brien. You are indeed a star.” He handed her the glass and she sipped slowly. Her lids fluttered at him and her awareness of her nakedness returned, as did the ache between her legs.
When she regained control of her breathing she said, “So, Philippe, perhaps it’s time to show me how much you enjoyed my performance both last night and now.” Sam was surprised at how brazen her remark sounded, but she didn’t care.
His lips were upon her throat before she took her next breath. “Of course, La Goulue. I have a little surprise for you, though. Why don’t you undress and I will return.” Philippe left the bed like a thief in the night. Now hungry for the promised love-making session, Sam unbuttoned her blouse and slipped out of her bra in double time. Just as she was about to jump under the covers, Philippe leaped on the bed and stood over her straddling her naked body.
“Lie down,” he said. She did but her body was beginning to chill. She needed warmth for her muscles. Just as she began to shiver Philippe raised his hand high in front of him and from it drifted a flurry of white powder. It was sprinkling all over her like tiny snowflakes.
“Philippe, what are you doing?” She coughed a little as some caught in her throat.
“You are my star. You are more beautiful than Tchaikovsky’s sugar plum fairy so I am covering you in sugar dust.” In his voice humor and passion partnered while in his hand he held a flour sifter. With each punch of the handle, he released another dusting of baking sugar over Sam’s body until she resembled a human-pastry dusted in sugar. Once satisfied with the result, Philippe jumped from the bed, throwing the sifter to the floor.
“Now I will eat you.” He stood straight and tall, legs splayed, hands on hips, his shorts trying to contain his manhood.
“Philippe. You look like Peter Pan.” Sam giggled with girlish innocence, causing the powder to tremble on her body like water on a beating drum.
“Is that so?” Philippe did his best impersonation of J. M. Barrie’s boy hero as he tore off his sweater. Spinning it three times above his head, he flung it to the far corner of the room where it obviously surprised Jasper who meowed in disgust.
Dropping the act, Philippe skulked over to her. The mood changed to one of intense sexual tension as he growled his pledge. “Now I will eat you.”
Sam’s nipples hardened at the promise, catching Philippe’s attention. He leaned down and licked the sugar in lazy strokes from the plump fullness of her breast to circle the areola and tease her nipple. Repeating this pattern, he laved her breast on all sides until it was clean yet sweetly sticky. Then with deliberate circles he ran his tongue over the tip of her nipple before devouring it, sucking it and engulfing as much of her breast as he could in his mouth. Sam moaned. “God, Philippe. Thank goodness I’ve only got two breasts.”
“Maybe so. But I will make you wish you had more.” He trailed his tongue over her other breast and fulfilled his promise.
“Now let me see what I can do with the rest of this sweetness?”
Containing all things romance.