The Good Sister: Part Two Read Online Free PDF

flickered from within the other room. I focused. T he Television is on . I scrubbed at my eyes, wiping my tears, and gazed up at Ashton. He was beautiful, wearing flannel pajama bottoms. I was really with him. Married to him. I was in the bed in our suite at the Hotel de Crillon. 
    “Where did you go?” I asked.
    “You were peacefully sleeping, and I could not sleep so I went to watch something on the telly. I was not far, only in the other room.”
    “When you leave, the bad dreams find their way back to me.”
    “Then we shall find a way to keep them at bay,” Ashton said, curling me into his body and lying down with me. 
    I nuzzled my mouth and nose into the crook of his shoulder. Wound my fingers through the strands of his hair, twisting.
    “Ashton?”
    “Yes.”
    “I love you.”
    “I am truly blessed to have the love of not only a beautiful woman, but of my wife.”
    “Ashton?”
    “Yes, my dove.”
    “Will you speak to me? I want to feel your voice echo over my body. I love your voice, it’s soothing.”
    “Have you ever heard the story of The Little Prince?”
    “No.”
    “Then we shall begin,” he said.
I woke to the sound of Ashton’s voice, but not how I remembered his voice should be. I remembered listening to him tell me a story, feeling safe, content, at peace. I knew I’d curled up against him while winding my fingers through his hair, but he wasn’t in bed with me. I glanced around. He was standing at the balcony doors, gazing out with his cell phone to his ear. To my pleasure, he was wearing nothing but a towel. The fluffy white cotton wrapped around his tight waist. 
    My heart sped to a start, the blood rushing through my veins. Ashton’s chocolate brown hair was wet and temptingly tousled. He’d obviously showered. I ran my gaze over the line of his neck, seeing the chocolate strands of his hair curl around his nape. I studied the side profile of his chiseled face. The long line of his sideburn. The curve of his ear. I visually traced the shape of his jaw. I was a lucky woman. His face was the definition of perfection. 
    I continued my quest, staring at the width of his strong shoulders, and liked how the muscles curved from his lower neck to the tops of his shoulders. I took in his biceps, wanting to lick them. I watched his movements and the masculine shape to his hand that held the phone. He had large, strong, beautiful hands with long fingers, and I wanted to feel them upon me, inside of me.
    “Oui nous arrivons près d'un jour,” Ashton said into the phone.
    While watching Ashton as his glorious muscles flexed beneath his perfect alabaster skin, my sex experienced a phantom spasm. And there was something about his voice, especially when he spoke in another language, that set me on fire.
    “Oui tout ce qu'elle desire.”
    Ashton paused. I observed his breathing, the rise and fall to his back.
    “Je suis indifférent au coût,” Ashton continued.
    I have to touch him or go mad . 
    I slid from the bed, patted across the floor on the balls of my feet, and placed my arms around Ashton’s trim waist. I kissed between his shoulder blades. He flinched. I think I startled him, but he finished his conversation before he flipped his phone closed.
    “Well, good morning, my dove.”
    “Good morning,” I said, outlining the top edge of the towel he wore with nimble fingertips. “Ashton, you are beyond sexy, and I have decided I’m a lucky woman.”
    “You have decided such?”
    “Oh yes, my lord.”
    Ashton pried my hands from his waist before he walked over to the side table where he placed his phone.
    “I wasn’t done touching you,” I complained with a pout.
    I stalked forward, wearing nothing but a smile. His cock stirred beneath the towel.
    “You look hungry,” he said, his voice low and tempting.
    I crawled upon the bed, slinking on all fours.
    “I’m starving.” I licked my lips.
    “Could I be of assistance in quenching your hunger?”
    My curls fell around my