Five Nights in Paris

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Chapter Ten

Holly, Present day

I was sore everywhere the next few days; my scalp was tender from my hair being pulled to the point where I couldn’t wear my hair up as usual, though having it down was generally a better option since my neck was covered in hickeys, my hips had bruises where Adrien’s fingers had dug in, and every muscle ached like I had been horseback riding for hours. I was so not complaining though, I couldn’t have asked for a better night. We hadn’t been able to get together the night before, Ian needed a thousand things run around Paris, and I just didn’t have the energy to go back to Adrien’s apartment afterward. I had no shortage of flirty texts, however, and that was enough to keep me giddy the entire day as I anxiously watched the minutes tick by until Adrien would pick me up for dinner. I stole away behind a dress rack and snapped a picture quickly, I wasn’t wearing a bra underneath my very short, silver sequined slip dress and I wanted to show myself off a bit. I sent it to him, my hand pulling down the front so he could clearly see the contours of my breasts. He sent me back a picture of his hand grasping the bulge in his pants, and I felt my blush burning against my cheeks as I tucked my phone away. I stepped back out from my hiding spot and smoothed the front of the garment, Mya’s prized Balmain dress, which I had to swear on my life to protect. The hemline didn’t quite reach mid-thigh and every step was a dangerous game, but I wouldn’t have time to go back to the hotel to change before dinner. I had paired it with my blazer again in the hopes that it would make me look somewhat professional, along with my black pumps. The shirtless models couldn’t steal my sexiness today. I spotted Abigail de Santa pinning a garment and waved at her, she looked up and smiled - beckoning me over.

“Darling, how are you enjoying the show today?” she asked around the pins between her teeth.

“Loved it, the gowns were to die for - my credit card company thanks you but my wallet doesn’t.” It was true, her collection had been stunning and I had to beg Ian to let me sit in to watch it, instead of waiting while he did another interview.

She chuckled and set the pins down, admiring her handy work. “I didn’t see that prick in the crowd. Did you finally shake him?”

I snorted. “No, and he wasn’t happy about me being there, he seems a bit hostile today.” I paused, unsure if I was overstepping. “Can I ask what the deal is with you and him, I mean he likes to keep things cryptic so I’m just trying to navigate a minefield here.”

She watched me for a minute, as if trying to gauge whether or not she wanted to answer, I wouldn’t have blamed her if she didn’t - it wasn’t my business. “How long have you been his assistant?” she asked sternly.

I thought about it. “About a month I guess, I started in the newsroom and was offered this after graduation.”

She nodded. “Mr. Johnston has had a new assistant for every show, that’s a new assistant every six months for around three years now.” Abigail paused, letting me absorb what she had said. “I find it very odd that they are always young, female, and have very little experience with him before they travel halfway across the world.”

This is news to me. I didn’t like the way she said that it made me uncomfortable. I had no idea what Ian’s relationship was to his previous assistants, ours was strictly business, even if he had tried to flirt once or twice. And that didn’t bother me either, I just figured that since our jobs required us to be in close quarters often that sometimes people would catch feelings.

“I can’t say anything about those women, I have no idea who they were, or where they went.” That part did bother me, and I made a note to ask him about it.

“There are other things as well, tell me - what hotel are you staying at?”

“The Villa Haussmann, it’s a lot nicer than I expected.” Was that weird?

Her eyebrows shot up. “Don’t you think it’s odd that you’re staying at a luxury hotel for a business trip? Ask any other journalist here and I can assure you they aren’t staying anywhere fancy, hell, half of them aren’t even staying in the city.”

Before I could reply she patted my arm with a wide smile. “It was lovely seeing you again dear, come to my office before you leave and we’ll have tea.” She pressed something to my palm, pretending to shake my hand.

“Are you trying to steal my assistant, Abbie?”

I turned, realizing she was trying to cover our tracks. Ian stood behind me; his face unreadable. His eyes shifted from her to me and I saw him glance down at my overly exposed legs.

“Mitchell, I think I’ve met with everyone I can today, we should be heading out.” He had an edge to his voice, but he smiled.

I wished Abigail a good night as I followed him to the front lobby. I could practically feel his irritation radiating from every pore, his hand clutched the messenger bag tightly. I glanced down at my hand and realized she had handed me her business card, I tucked it quickly into my purse. He asked the concierge to call a taxi and I stood patiently by the doors.

“Is something wrong, Ian?” I asked tentatively, as he approached.

He sighed. “No, everything is fine.” He paused as his eyes scanned me again. “You look nice, are you going somewhere?”

“Drinks with my old friends again, they want to celebrate my graduation.” It wasn’t entirely a lie.

“Too bad, otherwise I would have asked if you would like to get dinner or something tonight.” I could tell by his tone he didn’t quite believe me.

I offered an apologetic smile. “Another night - I promise.”

He nodded and smiled tight-lipped at me. I told him they were picking me up and that I would see him later, I watched as he got into the taxi before I texted Adrien. To my relief, and excitement, he was there quickly, and as he stepped out of the Maybach to greet me my heart swelled, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. Mon âme, I missed you! He looked amazing, black dress pants, a matching back suit vest, a deep crimson button-up underneath, and a diagonally striped black and silver tie. It was perfect for all my hot teacher fantasies. Back home I might have been more reserved in public, but here I didn’t care if people thought rude things about me pulling him in for a deep kiss. His arms wrapped tightly around my waist as he pulled me up, I moaned against his mouth. All too soon he pulled away and I pouted at him.

“Why Professor, I’d do anything for an A.” I ran my hands across the front of his vest and looked as innocent as I could.

He chuckled and brushed a lock of hair behind my ear, leaning down to whisper. ” How am I supposed to make it through dinner when you look good enough to eat?”

I pushed him lightly, urging him to the car where we could continue the conversation. He held the door for me, and I slid across the dark leather seat. As the car pulled away, I shrugged my blazer off and checked my makeup for any smudges, I didn’t want to ruin my fun too soon. Adrien lifted a box off the floor and handed it to me - my strappy silver platforms, which I had found in his closet and asked him to bring. Perfect for the look. I finished changing my shoes and glanced at him from my peripheral, his eyes were heavy-lidded as he took in the sight of me adjusting myself. I leaned over, my hand sliding up his thigh as I reached out to kiss his cheek.

“I have a surprise for you, mon cher,” I cooed against his neck.

I grasped his hand and pulled it to my slightly spread legs, he gripped my thigh hard as he moved upwards. My breathing quickened as he reached my mound, uncovered and unprotected. He jerked my leg closer to his and ran his fingers along my slit. My hold on his thigh loosened as I felt further up for his hardening cock.

“Ma chere, how am I supposed to take you out like this, and not throw you on the table to fuck your sweet cunt?”

“Do you have any more clichés for me?” I asked, and giggled as our mouths met, my tongue caressed his and skimmed along the edges of his teeth.

His cock was straining against the confines of his pants, flexing at my forceful touch. I slid my hand up to his zipper, wanting to take full advantage of the moment. He released my thigh suddenly and pulled me into his lap, my dress riding up around my waist. He licked and sucked my throat eagerly while my fingers threaded through his hair, his hands kneaded my ass hard and I debated skipping dinner altogether.

“I have many things planned for you tonight.” His voice was rough and sent chills up my spine.

My curiosity got the better of me when he didn’t continue, “Do I get to hear about these sinister plans?” Part of me hoped he would tell me, the other parts longed for it to be a surprise, a very rough and cruel surprise.

“I plan to have you crying on your knees, begging me to fuck you.” He paused and his teeth scraped along my jaw. “I brought some things with me tonight, I think you’ll thoroughly enjoy them - I know I will.”

Oh fuck, what are you going to do to me? Suddenly the lack of panties didn’t seem so smart as I felt myself getting wetter by the second. “You know, if anyone else told me I would be crying on my knees, I would think they were a psychopath,” I said, giggling as his scruff tickled my collar bone.

Adrien shook with silent laughter; he tipped his bed back to look at me - green eyes dancing with amusement. “And what do you think about me saying it?”

I bowed my head to kiss him before I replied, “That you’re a depraved and sadistic bastard, and I can’t wait for you to use me anyway you want.”

As the car pulled up to the restaurant, I clambered off his lap and shifted my dress down quickly. Adrien offered his hand and helped me out of the car as I teetered in my heels. I was as tall as he was now, something I was quick to point out.

“Am I emasculating you yet?” I teased.

He snorted as he offered me his arm to hold onto. “Darling, it will take more than your artificially inflated height to emasculate me.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes in mock exasperation. “Well then, how can I emasculate you?”

He smirked. “How about you grow a dick bigger than mine, then we’ll see where we’re at.”

I snickered quietly as we approached the hostess, trying not to bother the patrons. The dining room was stunning; deep grey walls with warm up-lighting, several chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and a large waterfall was erected behind the hostess station glowing a faint purple near the base. Paintings of expansive landscapes covered much of the exposed wall space, and a pianist played off to the side. The woman at the stand looked from the plunging neckline of my dress to my legs, and then to Adrien. She blushed slightly as she looked at him for a second too long and I turned my head into his shoulder to hide my smile. She spoke quickly to us in French, I didn’t bother with asking her to speak English.

Our booth was intimate; the high back suede seat was pitch black, the silk tablecloth was a plum color to match the waterfall, and several small candles hung from the ceiling and decorated our table. In front of us was a half wall, blocking the view from below, and from the top of the half-wall upwards was a lattice-type partition for a further sense of privacy. The menu wasn’t as much of a hurdle as I worried it would be, Adrien helped with the few items I didn’t recognize and offered to order for me when the waitress came back. He reached into the ice bucket on the auxiliary table to pour us both champagne.

“Not too much,” he murmured close to my ear. “I need you at least mostly sober.”

I heeded his warning and sipped lightly. His hand found my thigh again and traced swirling patterns lightly across my skin. Every brush of his fingertips was maddening; so light and fleeting. I crossed my legs, trying to fight the urge to pull his hand back between my thighs.

“You haven’t told me what you’ve been doing...” I said, attempting to ignore the butterflies low in my abdomen.

He thought about it for a moment. “I finished my Ph.D., not that I have done much with it.” He paused to sip from the flute. ”Ma mere is retiring - or hoping to anyway - she’s been trying to convince me to step into her position. That’s actually why she’s in Paris right now, she’s trying to wrap up loose ends.”

That was news to me, I had thought Adrien wanted to take over Blanche’s role - he always seemed happy to do it anyway. Maybe his father is meddling again. Charles, his father, hadn’t cared for me before and I doubted he would have better feelings toward me now. He and Adrien had fought constantly, about work, school, his choice in ‘company’ as he so affectionately called me, and Adrien’s choice to stay in Paris over his fathers’ home in London. “She seemed happy as ever when I saw her, but I guess I’m just an outsider looking in. Why don’t you want to take over anymore, I thought you enjoyed working in the business?”

He shrugged and waited for the waitress to serve our meals before he continued, “I have other endeavors that I prefer; mon pere assisted me with investing in several vineyards. The turn around was faster than I anticipated so I bought him out a few months ago, now I’m trying to find the right land to open a distillery. Within the next few months, to a year, I want to have a brick and mortar store open in the city.”

I no longer feel like a full-fledged adult. I stared at my plate in shock, the sole meuniere smelled lovely and looked even better, but I couldn’t wrap my head around how much more mature Adrien was than me. I didn’t even have real plans for what happened when I got back to New York, let alone the next several months to a year. But even with my shock I felt incredibly happy for him, he had his own business, he was done school, and he was so proud of himself - rightfully so.

“Holly, are you alright ma chere?” He asked with a slight frown.

I forced myself to smile at him. “Of course, just...processing. I’m really happy for you though, honestly, it’s amazing what you’ve been able to do.”

His hand found mine and he squeezed it gently., my heart melted, and my smile was no longer forced.

“Tell me what you have been doing, I don’t know nearly as much as I wish I did.” His voice was soft and urging.

I told him everything I could think of; getting my masters in business, working at the magazine, being stuck in an assistant position when I wanted something with more power, Mya and I still living together, and culminated with how my parents had just announced their divorce, obviously, that was the best topic on a date. I was happy about everything except for the magazine, I felt like I was spinning my tires and being led on with no intent to ever have real growth. He expressed sympathy about my parents, and I waved it off, they were much happier apart. I didn’t tell him how much it intimidated me that he appeared to have his shit together in a way I was completely unfamiliar with. We chatted more, and I found out his parents were currently living in Marseille - despite his father’s dislike of the country - but they were retiring to London in a few months.

We finished dinner, and desert, but stayed a while longer, wanting to enjoy the ambiance. And also, because we weren’t able to pry our mouths apart. I pulled at his hair as his tongue caressed mine, my leg was thrown over his and he inched his hand higher on my thigh, coming dangerously close to pushing my skirt up over my ass.

“We should go,” I gasped out as his lips moved down to rain kisses across my chest. “Adrien, if we don’t go now one of us is going to ruin this suede.”

His hand slid to the underside of my leg, his fingertips just barely brushing against my labia. I moaned quietly, trying not to alert the house management. He agreed and went to take care of the bill as I tried to clean myself up. I checked my lipstick - smudged but fixable, the low ponytail I had was mostly pulled out, I carefully fixed it before he came back. I clung to his arm as we left the restaurant, my legs shaky and still dazed from the kissing and champagne. As the car started towards the hotel he urged me into his lap again, this time facing forward with my back to his chest. My legs braced on the outside of his forcing my dress higher, suddenly he spread his legs apart as he slouched back in the seat. His hands came up to massage my breasts through the fabric of the slip and I leaned back on him, breathing heavily and raking my nails up the sides of his trousers.

“Are you able to keep quiet, chaton?” He asked it sounded like an innocent question, but I knew better.

Before I could respond one hand moved down to spread my folds, his fingers stroked my clit. I whimpered, I was so wet my thighs had been slick and now he was finally touching me. Without warning two digits plunged deep inside my aching pussy, I dug my nails into his thigh and my mouth fell open in shock. As he pressed up hard on my g-spot I cried out, his hand came up quickly, covering my mouth as he moved his fingers faster.

“That would be a no then,” he said in amusement.

I just moaned against his hand; my eyes squeezed shut, everywhere he touched created electric currents of fiery hot pleasure throughout my entire body. I arched my back as he started rubbing only on the sweet spot in hard, short strokes. I tried to push my hips back on his hand as I felt my orgasm mounting.

“Do you need to come?” he asked sweetly.

I nodded vigorously against his palm. I was so close, little tremors ran up my legs and I clutched his thigh, desperate for something to hold onto. His fingers moved faster and suddenly the heel of his hand was rubbing hard on my clit. I couldn’t help it, my eyes rolled back, I felt myself going over the edge, my pussy clamping down on him. His hand pulled away in an instant and I wailed desperately as I felt my orgasm slip away, my pussy tightening on nothing and feeling like I had been dropped into the icy water. I pressed my back into his chest as I writhed and mewled against him.

“Poor slut,” he mocked. “That’s what happens when you come without my permission.” He paused and licked my neck slowly. “And for being a cocktease at the table.”

I wanted to cry, we had been teasing each other all night and whatever relief I could have had was gone, again. He released my mouth and my teeth chattered as I shivered, the need flashing hot and cold across my skin. Adrien jerked my hair back, the fingers that had ruined me pressed against my lips, still wet with my arousal.

“Suck,” he ordered, his voice harsh.

I did as he said, taking the digits into my mouth and suckling on them eagerly - my tongue swirling around. I felt the car come to a stop and he pulled away again, I slid off his lap onto the seat so he could get out. I stood shakily, bracing myself on the car while as he got a messenger bag from the trunk. Adrien wrapped his arm around my waist for support as we made our way to the hotel elevator. Every step was torture, every touch felt like it was simultaneously too much and not enough. In the elevator we were alone, I stood pressed against him - my back to his chest again while his hand stayed firm to my abdomen, holding me in place. I could feel his erection pushing hard on my ass, I slid my hand between us and grasped it tightly, he hissed, and he pulled me closer.

His mouth pressed against the shell of my ear as he spoke, “The dress comes off when we get through the door, keep the heels on, and this--” He jerked my hair tie out. “Perfect.”

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