He’d only taken me with my face down lately, but he didn’t try to stop me. His arms remained restrained in his refusal to touch me. He wanted me, but he only wanted to take, not give.

I grabbed his base and slowly slid down, getting his thickness past my entrance in a gentle glide. When I had a good hold, I slowly sank farther and farther, getting every inch of that thickness inside of me.

He closed his eyes, inhaled a deep breath accompanied by a moan, and then his hands were on me. They gripped my ass, his large fingertips kneading my cheeks. When he looked at me again, he was there with me.

In this moment.

Together.

My hand cupped his face, and I started to ride him slowly, rolling my hips just the way he liked, pressing my face close to his. “Tu m’as manqué.” I missed you. “Tu es le seul homme pour moi.” You’re the only man for me. “Je t’aime…”

Things got better.

Change was slow with Fender, but it did happen. It was like the blossoming of a rose. It started with a green bud that blended with the vine, but slowly, it finally started to open. Then it opened wider and wider until it was in full bloom.

He ate his meals with me. Carried on a little conversation. Let me get on my knees and blow him when I wanted to please him. Let me get on top of him whenever I wanted to ride him. But he never initiated anything on his own. He never spoke to me in French. He never told me he loved me.

He never called me Chérie.

I had to continue to be patient.

At the end of the day, he entered my bedroom. There was no knock or any kind of announcement. He just let himself inside.

I was on the couch working on my French. I closed my notebook and looked at him, seeing him in a suit.

I was taken aback, because I’d never seen him dressed that way.

Handsome. Elegant. Powerful. He could pull off any look, even one as refined as that. The jacket made his shoulders broader, the slacks fit his muscular thighs perfectly, and he stood with a posture that evoked his fortune and status.

“Are you leaving?”

He adjusted the sleeves of his collared shirt underneath the jacket, shifting his watch in the process. “Get dressed.”

“I’m…I’m coming with you?”

“I said get dressed.” He stepped away like the conversation was over.

I went after him. “If I’d known, I would have prepared myself better.” It was clearly a fancy event, and while I had gowns in the closet, my hair and makeup weren’t fresh. He must have debated whether to invite me or not, and at the last minute, he did.