Butterfly by Nelle L’Amour

CHAPTER 41

Roman

Make love to me.

Her voice a whisper, that’s all I need to hear. She wants me; I need her; I want her; she needs me.

Something’s changed inside me. Something’s changed between us.

When I saw that fricking French frog or turtle or whatever the fuck he is plaster his slimy lips on my butterfly’s, a tsunami of emotions crashed through me and almost knocked me off my feet.

Shock.

Hate.

Jealousy.

Rage.

In the end, only rage consumed me, and it took all I had not to break every bone in the bastard’s body, rip out his lecherous eyes, and bash in his nuts. Leave the French turtle a shell of the man he used to be.

Then, as he crawled off, I knew what I had to do. Rid her of any taste of him. Fuck him out of her mouth. Out of her mind. Make her mine completely.

That kiss. My first kiss in a decade. I can’t stop thinking about it as we ride the subway in silence back to my place. Yeah, the subway. When she told me what she wanted, I momentarily thought about getting a hotel room because my cock was about to burst out of my pants. But that’s not what I wanted for her first time. Our first time. Rationality trumped my urge to ravage her. I couldn’t wait to get out of the Plaza. Get far away from that French piece of garbage as fast as possible. So, the subway. The quickest way back downtown. And the safest because if we’d gotten into a cab or an Uber, who knows what I would have done to her in the backseat.

The Q train is packed, every seat taken, so we’re forced to stand up, each holding on to a pole, me standing behind her, breathing in the orange blossom scent of her hair, which like ambrosia makes me hard again. At a sudden jerk of the roaring train, we jolt and I draw her in close to me with one arm, my erection pressing against her. She looks over her shoulder at me, her knowing eyes smoldering. I can’t help consuming her lips again, and as I deepen my kiss, Vincent’s words circle my head. She’s strong but fragile. Be gentle with her.