Paris_Lost Valkyries MC Page 4

  The kiss that follows is an exchange of feelings that are expressed without the use of words. Soft, tender; all consuming.

  He pulls me over his body, leaving me no other option but to straddle him. Slowly I take him inside me. Leisurely I fall into a rhythm that’s slowly building pleasure throughout my body. The way his fingers press into my skin where he’s holding me…one hand on my hip, the other cupping my neck…the groans that rip from his body, all of it represents the pleasure is all consuming for the both of us.

  My orgasm captures me by surprise and makes me crash forward. He holds me in place as my name spills from his lips while his dick starts to pulsate. Our simultaneous climax finally tempers, allowing my breathing to gradually ease back to normal.

  I try to move but his fingers are still keeping me pinned to him. “Don’t move,” he growls. “We’re going to sleep like this.”

  There is not one single hair on my head that would think of a reason not to and it doesn’t take long for sleep to take over the both of us.

  Someone is chuckling. In my ear I might add. I groan and turn my head away. Another chuckle flows through the air before there’s a sharp pain shooting through my ass. I flash up and look around, furious to see who spanked me.

  “Tame it down and seize the day, ma chéri,” Paris tells me. “We’ve got places to go, sights to see, and Gérard to kill.”

  Gérard to kill? He would let me witness that? Involve me? My father never shared information or allowed me to be involved. I’ve seen enough as the daughter of a mafia boss, don’t get me wrong, but I was always on a ‘need to know’ basis. My brothers? Yes. They were walking the same path and yet my father treated me like a princess when it came to that stuff. Although he did make me take classes…master things like martial arts and self-defense to be able to handle weapons such as knives, guns, and rope. But never opening up and treating me as an equal…yet this man…my man…he does.

  “I’m up, I’m up. Go get me coffee already. Black, sugar,” I mutter and glance around in an effort to let my brain work to figure out what I should do next.

  “Here.” Paris is holding up my backpack.

  Surprised, I take it from him. “Where did you get it?”

  “Gérard fucked up so bad with his blind vengeance toward my father that he turned his own MC against him. We had a meeting in private with Cédric, his VP. To make a long story short…they hand-delivered us Gérard, and we forged a truce. The car is still intact so it’s sitting in the parking lot. I brought the two bags that were in the trunk inside and checked them. Beatrice has a whole different taste in clothing and not to mention her size doesn’t match yours, so it was easy to figure out which was yours.” He gives me a sly smile and walks toward the door. “Why don’t you freshen up and meet me in the large room down the hall? I’ll be there waiting for you and I’ll get that coffee you asked for when you’ve joined me.”

  I keep staring at the door Paris just went through. Unrealistic. That’s what it is. Well, maybe not so much because it’s history repeating itself. My mother bumped into my father in Bois de Boulogne, a large public park, when they were in their early twenties. Both were on a short vacation…living in the same town and yet they met in a park in France, all the way across the ocean. They stayed together from that day forward, until my mom died. As I said; unrealistic. Yet it happened to me and Paris too and I hope we get to build a future, raise our kids, and spend the rest of our lives together…just like my parents.

  My chest fills with warmth and an idea I also told my father comes to mind. Taking the long way home. The reason I came here in the first place; to visit Bois de Boulogne. But I want to take Paris with me instead of going alone or having Beatrice with me.

  I grab a dusty pink shirt with a V-neck, a pair of dark jeans, along with some underwear from my backpack. It doesn’t take long for me to walk down the hall in search of Paris.

  My steps falter when I see him sitting at a table with Jérôme and Fabien. Leaning against the wall, I enjoy a moment to take him in. His face is relaxed and he’s laughing at something Fabien just said. Leaning forward, he smacks the guy on his shoulder and I see how Paris’ muscles flex.

  “You know it’s okay to go over there and touch your guy, right? I can vouch for the fact that you’re even allowed to fuck him where he’s sitting…all of us watching too,” a voice tells me from my left. My cheeks flush as I see Titan watching me, his eyes sliding down to my breasts. “Ah…that idea excites you, huh? Or are your nipples saluting me instead of your Old Man?”

  Before I can process a thought, my body responds automatically. My right hand connects with his cheek and fire instantly heats my palm. I step back because fury is still running through me. “The way my body reacts with excitement is reserved for only one person, where only disgust flows freely for you right now.”

  Titan is still wearing a smile and I’m itching to throat punch it off.

  I step forward but feel a hard chest behind me as Paris’ scent wraps around me. “What did you say to my woman, Titan? And aren’t you supposed to keep Beatrice busy?”

  “Nothin’, Prez. Your Old Lady is loyal. And Beatrice is out cold,” Titan sighs. “All sated. Fuck. Why is it always one-sided? I need to find one who’s got the same stamina I have. Maybe I’ll try Tinder and mention it in my profile.”

  “Sorry,” I wince and sneak an arm around Paris’ waist. “Hope you find your person.”

  “Yeah,” Titan sighs again and stalks toward the refrigerator, grabs a bottle of water and disappears into the hallway.

  “Are you ready? I’ll grab your coffee so we can leave in five minutes.” Paris brushes his lips against the corner of my mouth.

  I swallow and man up to pop the question. “Can we…” Shit. It’s a little sappy to ask for something like that, right?

  “What’s that, ma chéri?” Paris asks. “Do you need more time, or want Beatrice to tag along? What? Name it and we’ll make it happen.”

  “Beatrice can handle herself by the sound of it. And we were supposed to part ways tomorrow anyway because her sister lives in Loire Valley so she was going to take the car and drive there. I was supposed to…” okay, out with the sappy shit. Another deep breath so I can spill it all in one go. “My mom bumped into my dad in Bois de Boulogne and it was love at first sight. He asked her hand in marriage a year later in the same park. I wanted to go and see it for myself.”

  “Take your time to finish that coffee, love.” He cups my face with both hands and kisses me hard before he pulls back all to quick and adds, “I’ll make us some sandwiches so we can enjoy those in the park before we head for my house.”

  My heart spills over for this guy.

  Chapter 09

  ***Paris***

  I love this time of year, the soft summer wind blowing to take away some of the heat. But mostly it’s the woman that’s on the back of my bike, her arms wrapped tight around me. There’s no better feeling of righteousness. Finally, things are starting to fall in place and settle down...I’m settling down.

  Well, first I need to kill that Gérard fucker to bury the past once and for all, but that seems like a minor bleep on my radar. Pleasing my Old Lady is one of my top priorities. And for fuck’s sake, to know her parents hit it off just as hard and fast the way we did? Justifies the need to express my feelings out in the open without having to explain myself.

  All these years on this fucking earth and there’s no one that has made me burn like she does. She lives across the damn ocean and I’m not able to let her go. This shit will be a memory to share with our grandkids one day. All of this makes me nervous, so I shake the thought and enjoy the wind blowing in my face before we get to the place I had in mind. It’s a bit of a walk from where I parked my bike.

  Jérôme is giving us some space when Lyra and I stroll to a bench near the water, where the view is fucking stunning. Trees surround us and it feels good to be here knowing the threat against my club is gone. There’s no need to look over
my shoulder constantly and I can just enjoy this moment with my woman.

  The sun is shining through the trees and hits the open space of the lake. Pigeons are strolling around us and it seems like the setting from a movie. Yet the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as a warning to be alert. Weird because as I said…for the first time in weeks the threat against my club is gone.

  I pull her close and capture her lips. It’s something I have to be careful with because we’re out in the open and this woman makes me so freaking mad with lust, I would like to spread her wide and bury myself deep inside her. Not something I can do in a public place, although this spot is very quiet and I haven’t seen one single person around here yet. But for now, I regretfully disconnect our lips and place my forehead against hers.

  With the both of us breathing heavily, I’m ready to ask the question. “I won’t wait a year to pop the question. And since I’ve already claimed you as my Old Lady…there’s one more thing left…marry me.”

  Although it’s just two words I give her, it’s the one single word I get in return that’s worth more than all the money in the world.

  “Yes,” she screams before she strangles me in a way that I have to peel one arm away to catch my breath.

  One fucking day in my life and we’re ready to put a lock on forever.

  “Easy there, love,” I chuckle. “I need oxygen if I want to keep living long enough to marry you. Not to mention all of the stuff we have to do together.”

  The next moment she’s kissing the fuck out of me and that right there has me back to the point where I need to fuck her. And we can’t. Out in the open and all…the pigeons are looking at us funny as it is.

  “Let’s go to your house.” She looks at me with so much adoration in her eyes that my chest squeezes.

  “That’s our house,” I tell her with a stern voice, “since you agreed to marry me.” And the fucking reason I popped that question right now. The thought of her leaving because she lives way across the ocean is ripping my heart out. Thank fuck she said yes, she’s all mine now.

  “Yes.” There’s that fucking single word again that holds such great meaning when it’s meant for me and tumbling from her lips.

  I’m too fucking absorbed in her that my mind catches up when I hear a gun cocking.

  “Stand up, Lyra. Your father would like a word with you and I’ve been ordered to bring you back home,” a dark voice adds from behind the bench we’re sitting on.

  Scanning behind the fucker, I see another guy has a hold on Jérôme, who’s consumed with anger that they’ve managed to detain him. Probably the two fuckers came at him, pointing guns, so he had no other option but to surrender or he wouldn’t make it without a bullet hole or two.

  When my eyes hit Lyra’s, I need to do a double take. That’s how much fury is burning in her gaze.

  “Don’t do anything foolish,” I growl.

  It’s not meant for the fucker holding a gun. He means nothing but the blood beneath my boot when I’m done with him. But I can’t bear my woman putting her own life at risk.

  Her jaw ticks as she stands up, allowing the fucker to come up behind her. He lowers the gun and aims it at her side while he takes a hold of her other arm. “Nice and slow, Lyra. Or I’ll shoot your fling right in front of you. The order was to take him out anyway, but I’d rather save you the visual.”

  His gun rises and that’s when I see Lyra sliding into action. In the blink of an eye she’s got the fucker’s gun aimed at the other guy next to Jérôme. My VP doesn’t waste a second to act and breaks the man’s neck; the dead man’s gun falls to the ground.

  I’m still stunned, but when Lyra bends the fucker’s arm to aim the gun to blow his brain out, I reach out and take the gun while I grab my phone and dial the fucker who set this up. It takes two rings for him to answer.

  “Hear me and hear me well, you fucking asshole. Because you’re the father of my soon to be wife, and you’re clearly suffering from a lack of respect for her, I’m going to allow you one final chance. For fuck’s sake don’t throw it to the wind because this is what’s going to happen.” Aiming the gun, I hold the phone and click on FaceTime, to make sure the fucker has a nice visual, before I shoot his guy between the eyes.

  Pigeons scatter all over the fucking place. Taking Lyra by the hand, we make sure to get the hell out of there fast.

  It’s close to a three-hour drive to my place and that’s a good thing; it gives the both of us time to process what the fuck happened back there. It’s a clear sign her father is against us being together. Although I understand his reasons somewhat…I mean, as a father you would want the best for your daughter and let’s face it…no fucking guy will ever be able to reach that status. For fuck sure I wouldn’t in his eyes.

  That doesn’t change one fucking thing for me because Lyra is it for me. But for her? Yeah, that might be a whole different truckload to carry with and decide over. This being said, I revel in the fact that she’s got her arms wrapped tight around me. We’ve stopped twice to get something to drink and she didn’t even act differently than before. But we will have a talk as soon as we get to the house and get off this bike.

  I only hope she’ll see the light surrounding us, not the darkness that sometimes enters the life we lead.

  Chapter 10

  ***Lyra***

  I feel Paris tighten up again and I’m sure he’s still stuck in a loop of thoughts about what happened in the park. I can’t believe my father did that. That he ordered the two guys that were once there to protect me to come drag me off and kill Paris in the process. Especially after I’ve said the words to him that my mother voiced. He ruined the perfect memory and tainted it with hate and disrespect.

  That’s probably how he knew where I was. My mother’s memory. The whole reason why I went to Paris. And dammit, I found my love right here and if there was one person on this earth who would understand the love at first sight thing, it would be my own father. I’m so angry at him for a lot of things, but the main thing that’s hitting me now is disappointment. He let me down in a way where he didn’t respect my wishes, my own life, my own choice to follow my heart.

  Tears flow and I’m happy the wind blows them away while I snuggle even closer against Paris and hold on tighter. I don’t care if we’re from different continents. The world we live in is tainted with many things and violence has ruled both our families. It’s what we accept, what we build together, a strong and solid foundation. If the first day together holds so much, it can only be a courageous starting point where we go forward into a future we will explore and mold to our own beliefs…together.

  I take a moment to clear my thoughts and just enjoy the view. There’s a large vineyard on my right. Paris told me he owned one…vines grown mainly for winemaking. His parents, and his grandparents before that, own a company that makes and sells wine. I’m completely intrigued and can’t wait for him to show and tell me all about it.

  Paris takes a right and it’s then that a large mansion comes into view. It’s freaking gorgeous. It’s off-white with some dark green elements. A large stairway on the side that seems to wrap around it catches my eye and then I see an adorable water wheel against the left of the house and a small creek that flows into a pond in front of the house.

  Paris pulls the bike into a garage that looks more like a tiny house. When he comes walking back toward me, I can’t hold back and launch myself at him. Although I was holding him when we were on the bike, this is completely different. We both need this; the comfort of an emotional embrace. He holds on just as tight and nuzzles my neck.

  “It’s gorgeous,” I tell him. “I can’t believe you’re letting me share all of this with you…the land, the house, our lives. Or do we have to live in Paris during the week and only weekends here?” I question out loud because I have no clue how all of it works.

  “We’ll be spending most of our days here. There’s a tiny house at the edge of the property. Bénédicte and his wife live there, you�
��ll meet them soon enough. They take care of the vineyard most of the time. Oh, and they make sure the pigs are happy,” Paris chuckles.

  “Pigs?” I ask, stunned to find out he owns pigs.

  “Yeah, my dad has kept three pigs his entire life, replacing one if one of them died. It takes care of…problems, when you run into something that needs to be…solved.” He bites his lip as if he wants to say more but is not sure how to say it.

  He doesn’t have to because realization hits. “Oh! Because pigs eat everything? Is that real? I mean…that works?”

  “That works,” Paris chuckles and nods. “Well, as long as you don’t overfeed them,” he adds on a wink.

  “You ready Prez?” a guy asks as he strolls up from behind the house.

  Paris has a look on his face that I can’t read. He rubs a hand over his mouth before his eyes find mine. “I need to… Gérard…we’re going to, uhm, yeah. I need to handle some business. Do you want to,”

  “Sit out back with a glass of wine from your vineyard while you go and handle it?” I beam. “Yes, please. I’d love to get my feet up and lounge in the evening sun. You can tell me all about it when you’re finished handling that idiot who killed your father. You need to do this your way.”

  “Fuck,” Paris mumbles and takes my mouth in a rough kiss.

  A throat clears from behind us. “Prez, is it okay if I show your Old Lady the view from the patio? I’ll make sure she gets a bottle from the top shelf in the wine cellar.”

  Paris groans and reluctantly pulls back before he mutters, “Thanks, Fabien. Appreciate it.”

  “I’ll be right there with you, love,” Paris tells me and I watch as he goes around back.