"It matters to me."
"No, it doesn't. Because to you, I'll be gone in the blink of an eye. I'm one of those little ants that come and go. I'm surprised you even bother to keep me alive."
"How can you say that?" He grabbed her shoulders. "Do you think I'm totally heartless?"
"No. But why would you care if I live to be thirty or seventy? What's forty years to someone who's over five hundred? My life is just a blip on your radar screen."
Mon Dieu, he wanted to shake her. "You are everything to me! You are the woman I love."
She gasped.
"It's true." He stepped closer. "I love you, Heather."
She shook her head. "I'll grow old and gray."
"And I will still love you. Why would I care if your outer appearance mellows with time? It is you who fills my heart, and I have waited five hundred years for you."
She drew in a shaky breath. "You always say the most beautiful things." A tear rolled down her cheek. "You're the most beautiful man, but I'm afraid this could never work."
He brushed the tear away. "You're at war with fear, remember?" He smoothed his hands across her back, drawing her close. "Trust me, cherie."
"I want to." She rested her hands on his chest. "But this is so hard…"
"We have this moment." He kissed her brow. "This perfect moment in time." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Let me love you." He hovered over her mouth.
"Jean-Luc." Her hands slipped up to his neck.
He kissed her gently, still aware that she could flee at any moment. He took a slow, leisurely pace, seducing her with softness. Her body responded, molding to his. His groin tightened. He ignored his own urgent need and slipped his hands beneath her T-shirt. He slowly caressed her back. She shivered, causing her breasts to jiggle slightly against his chest. With a moan, he drew her lower lip into his mouth and sucked. Her fingers delved into his hair.
"Heather." He nuzzled her neck. Her carotid artery throbbed against his cheek. His erection grew harder. "Let me love you."
"I can never resist you," she whispered.
That was good, but he wanted more. He wanted a declaration of love. He felt sure she loved him.
Maybe she didn't realize it yet. Or maybe she was afraid to admit it. Either way, he'd make it clear to her. He'd make her scream with pleasure, over and over, until she realized the truth.
He grasped the hem of her T-shirt and eased it up.
"Wait!" She crossed her arms, covering up the little yellow bird on her T-shirt.
His heart plummeted. He released her and stepped back. "Forgive me."
"It's not you." She pointed at the camera in the upper corner of his bedroom. "It's them."
"Merde." He'd forgotten about that. And the damned red light was still blinking. Didn't they realize this was private? He made a cutting motion across his throat. The light went off.
"This is embarrassing," Heather muttered. "What if they turn it back on in five minutes, thinking we're done?"
He arched a brow. "Five minutes?"
She huffed. "Okay, so I haven't participated in any marathons." She glared at the camera. "Or any peep shows."
With a smile, he strode to his bedside table and fumbled in his top drawer. He removed a remote control, aimed it at the camera, and pushed the off button. "There. They can't interrupt us."
"Okay." She watched him warily as he approached. "I–I'm still not totally convinced this could work."
"I know, but I can be very persuasive." He took her by the shoulders. "All night long."
She shivered as he nuzzled her neck. "I could use a little persuasion."
"I thought so." He nibbled on her ear. "Where were we?"
"I was about to star in a Girls Gone Wild video."
He had no idea what that was, but it sounded interesting. "You wish to go wild, cherie?" He grabbed the hem of her T-shirt.
She sucked in a deep breath. "What the hell? You only live once."
That was debatable, but this was not the time. He yanked the shirt over her head and dropped it.
The little yellow bird fluttered to the floor.
His first inclination was to admire her breasts for a moment, but he knew that would turn his eyes red, and he didn't want to scare her. Still, he couldn't resist a quick glimpse. Her plump, rosy nipples were turning pebbly and hard. The tightened tips begged to be suckled. He kept his gaze lowered, grasped her around the waist, and tossed her onto the center of his bed.
"Whoa!" She bounced on her rear.
He landed beside her and shoved her back. "Close your eyes."
"What?"
He kept his face turned away as he untied the draw-string on her pajama bottoms. "Close your eyes and relax. Just let yourself feel." He leaned over and touched her belly button with his tongue.
She shuddered.
"Eyes closed?"
"Yes."
He glanced at her face. Her eyes were shut, and her trust in him swelled his heart. "You're so beautiful."
A corner of her mouth tilted up. "Are you looking at my breasts?"
He grinned. "Actually, I was looking at your face." He kissed her cheek. "But your breasts are beautiful, too."
"Thank you."
He rested a hand on her waist. "Si belle." He skimmed his fingers up her rib cage and the valley between her breasts. Her chest rose with a deep breath.
With his fingertips, he circled one breast, then the other. "Your nipples are becoming darker. Tighter. And I haven't even touched them yet." He pressed his mouth against the outside curve of her left breast.
She sighed. He cupped her right breast and massaged gently.
She moaned.
"Do you like it gentle…or rough?" He took the hardened tip between his thumb and forefinger and tugged.
She gasped.
"Or perhaps both." He drew the nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the tip.
She splayed her fingers into his hair. "Jean-Luc."
"Hmm?" He kissed her other breast, nibbling and tweaking the nipple. He slipped his hand into her loose pajamas, reaching lower and lower until he encountered her curls. Slowly he massaged the plump mound. Her breathing became faster and more erratic.
He nuzzled her neck. "I want to taste you."
"Oh God," she whispered.
"I want to feel you shudder against my face." He licked her lips, then kissed her. He swept his tongue inside her mouth, then drew back. "It will be like that, but better. Are you ready?"
"Oh yes," she breathed, her eyes squeezed shut.
He grabbed the waistband of her pajama bottoms, yanked them down her legs, and tossed them aside. She covered her face briefly with her hands, then flung her arms wide. Her legs moved slightly, bending at the knee.
He grasped her ankles and planted her feet firmly apart on the bed. Her body jolted, sending a quiver down her legs that he could feel. His erection strained against his trousers, and he prayed for endurance. He needed to make her scream first. He needed her speaking words of love when he fully claimed her.
He clasped her knees and shoved them apart. She gasped.
He stared. Mon Dieu, she was beautiful. Dark auburn curls. Rosy flesh along the outer folds. A darker ruby color in the center. She glistened with moisture. Her fragrance called to him. It smelled of sweet desire and rushing blood.
He nestled a cheek against her soft inner thigh. "You're lovely beyond words. So sweet and wet."
He skimmed his fingers over her, and her legs trembled.
Her groan sounded urgent and full of need. She clutched at the bedspread and moved her feet to his back.
He moved in closer and touched her with his tongue. One taste and he was lost. He seized her by the hips and swirled his tongue all over her, exploring every bit of her while she squirmed beneath him. He inserted his tongue, but wanted further inside her. He plunged a finger inside, then two, and stroked her while his tongue lapped her clitoris.