You did not expect me to flutter my lashes, did you? This demure wallflower, dressed in such finery, looking upon my waiter and lingering into your eyes. I was starstruck; there was no other explanation. Your smile rested easily on those handsome features, and the soothing delivery of effortless French was a balm for my worries.Of course, it surprised me to discover you were English, James. I giggled when you apologised for that when I was so enamoured with you. You worked at that café in Place Vendôme from Tuesday to Saturday and noticed my frequent visits. I chose to sit within your domain, and you had no idea who I was. I could not keep my eyes off you. Tall, so raffish, athletic, and your eyes, mon dieu! Those azure blues were the windows to your thoughts and soul; I lost myself in those so many times.From springtime to the start of summer, I would sit, watch you, and pretend I was not. The way you carried yourself and that mop of wavy brown hair, so lustrous as a prop for your thoughts. Polite without a flaw, your manners would shame a Prince, and you made my body sing.You were my guilty pleasure at such a delicate eighteen years old and my all-possessing crush.You were a forbidden fruit, too, and became my secret for a wistful daydream with its deep sighs of longing. It went on for weeks; I would go there for coffee, and the feeling was mutual. Do you remember that one day? It was quiet, of all things, for a football match. There was only you, me, and the bored café owner? My coffee was cold because we talked so much, but I did not mind.You asked for my name and stole my breath.“Stephanie,” I gasped.I would not give you my surname because I did not want it to be revealed. With those striking eyes disarming my resistance, you took me at face value, and your perfect manners did not press. If you knew, that would change everything. I wanted many more weeks like these so you could understand me first.Your dinner invitation made me blush. It would be impossible, but I said yes in the blink of an eye. I needed the time to plan, and you did not baulk when I asked for a Saturday night in two weeks’ time.Until then, you were the model gentleman whenever I was at the café. No one would know as we exchanged glances, and your sly grin made me beam. I was having the most unholy thoughts about you. I spent hours getting İstanbul Escort ready, just for a coffee and watching you work. It was a seduction by the promise of the unknown, delivered in a few sentences each visit. You always remembered what I was doing every week, and your thoughtful words lifted my mood for the entire day.Yet, as that day approached, worries sharpened my nerves. Every tiny detail mattered; everything had to be correct. When we met, I was so on edge I trembled. All my irrational fears were written on my moonstruck face. I had never seen a man so humble when you said I was beautiful. When that happened, you disarmed me in an instant. I knew we would have an excellent evening.Goodness knows how many extra hours you worked to pay for that meal. I would not mind a quiet homely bistro to spend more time with you. I had my price to pay for being here, too. I lied and evaded so many people to escape. Yet, we sat together for those precious few hours, and I was in awe of you. I dreamed about a rendezvous like this for years. The simple pleasure of being alone with a man I adored and who adored me in return.You looked so dashing in a suit, although I did adjust your tie. You sat there and listened; God, you were good at that. I put my expensive education to good use, and we exchanged ideas and thoughts. You were so witty and charming. We spoke about literature and how it made us feel. For me, it was a diversion from everything I despised about my life. I said something else; I could not tell you that… not yet. For you, it coursed through you; it made you so alive before me. It was your passion and seeing that roused my passion for you.To say goodnight, you recited Coleridge and stole my heart.You gathered me into your arms and placed how you felt onto my lips. Oh, it was perfect. It made me lightheaded, and I remember my lips still simpering with my eyes closed as you waited for them to open.Gazing into each other’s eyes, we grinned, a nervous reflex from me, but that kiss collapsed the wall between us. I placed my hands on your chest, and as the distance narrowed, it was my turn, and then you knew for sure. This was romance, and you were the first man I ever kissed. We did it again and again until there was only us at the Trocadero overlooked by the sparkling Eiffel İstanbul Escort Bayan Tower.I petitioned you with all my heart to take me to your apartment. There was such anguish in your expression when I asked you. It was never your intention, but you did not understand how precious this time was. From my eyes to yours, you relented.As we walked together, arm in arm, you did not know I lived in a gilded cage. Or that Papa’s money paid for my haute couture. The only kindness in my life was from Mama; I inherited that from her and her beauty. You had no idea my life was a carousel of functions and pageantry, where no one was honest, and everyone lied. Everyone except you, James, the struggling writer that lived in Marais. You waited on the pampered and spoilt in Vendôme without a word of complaint and never wavered from that heart-melting smile.I kept my secret from you, but my life was pre-ordained as soon as I was born. I was expected to be chaste despite the unwelcome ingratiations of men. The idea of debutantes was unfashionable, so the old guard changed its name. I was a commodity, a pawn to unite two families, a feudal legacy from my principality. My purpose was marriage and a clutch of children, then my husband would find a mistress, leaving me with a sense of duty and nothing else.It happened to Mama, and it would happen to me. No, I wanted you; I wanted different. You were my knight on a white charger who would sweep this damsel away.-=-Standing in your apartment, naked as my Adonis and myself before you. I was afraid and nervous. Your tender fingers were the rake that delivered crackles of electricity through my very being. The first contact of naked skin against skin melted me into a pool of unfathomable lust.You took me and roused me from my inhibitions with patience and understanding. You laboured for me and venerated my body as the vessel that held the nascent feelings of true love. The raptures, James, my beautiful rogue, what a man you were! The first rattled my bonds to my old world, and the second crumbled them into dust. There were many more than night.We made love, James. I chose love, you, and this most sacred act. You were my first, my tender, gallant, and passionate first. The lyrical passion rose as flames licked and burned down my staid life. You transported Escort İstanbul me into a place of my purest emotions as the cinders of falsehoods, and deceit fell around us. Clasped around your body, wrapped in my limbs, we moved as swallows danced. You took the nineteen-year-old girl and made me into a woman that night.Whimpering for you, pleading with you to keep going, awakening my sexuality with your magical touch and the gift of your instincts.In between, you gathered me up and held me safe in your arms. You let me into so many thoughts of your own and displayed such courage to share them. You honoured me with your precious hopes and dreams. Sharing mine with you, we had a long road to reach them, but as we embraced, we made that first step together.Eager to please you as the man of my dreams, I trembled with what you gave me. Your plaintive words rained upon me like blossom leaves, filling me with confidence, swelling my need and invoking an all-consuming desire. You shook the foundations of my soul and rebuilt me as a sensual creature. You illuminated my most intense passions and brought sunlight to the recesses of my mind.I was relentless for you all night, thirsty to experience much more. I wanted this night to last for eternity. The morning chorus sang, and as we writhed, I mounted you. Driving down, eager for that final act, I needed to cement us together. I knew you were exhausted, yet from your helpless eyes, you were so determined. Our fingers, like our hearts and souls, were entwined. You relented, and our perfect union fused in the most intimate and magical moment I had ever experienced.I carried it within me all the way home.-=-It was a month before you saw me again; such was the price I had to pay. When you did, I wanted to sob because we were betrayed.As you placed two cups on their saucers at our table, there was no glimmer in your eyes. Extinguished, hollowed, I wanted to stand up and protest, to fight for your feelings, and tell you that I loved you. The white heat of injustice burned so bright that afternoon. Still, you kept that pleasant demeanour when I saw nothing but a terrible pain in your eyes. Your bonhomie felt like fingernails down a blackboard. You were just like them, dishonest, mendacious… a liar.You did not fight for me, James. God, I was so naïve.As my companion whisked me away, I turned back, and you saw how I pleaded. Your expression haunted me for weeks. I could not persuade him to return to the café at Place Vendôme. That man tried to please me, but I would not let him into my thoughts or near my body. Yet, it was planned. A dynastic match, nothing more.