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It was just another peaceful morning in the village when you first met him. You had woken up early as usual and fed the chickens before heading into the farmer’s market to attempt to trade some of the fresh eggs you’d gathered that morning. The last time you were there, you’d had your eye on Farmer Guillaume’s stand, where he was selling baskets of cherries fresh picked from the farm, and convinced him to trade you a basket next time for a dozen of your fresh chicken eggs. You took your time, wandering among the wares. You weren’t originally from here, instead growing up in the suburbs outside of Bordeaux. You were a writer though, and decided that you’d be spending a year out in a rural village like the one you called home now for inspiration.
You’d never been to a farmer’s market before you’d moved here three months ago, and you absolutely loved it here. It didn’t have all of the hustle and bustle of the city, and you had to drive about an hour to get to the nearest town selling cassettes of the newest Aerosmith album. For such a small town, it didn’t take long to meet everyone that lived there. Everyone treated you very kindly and you had already made friends with lots of the townspeople. It was quite freeing to move so far away from the city, and you almost felt like you left behind your life there, including the not so pleasant aspects. Almost. Some things just happened to follow you no matter what, but you were optimistic. You were going to move past all of that.There did seem to be something missing from your life in the village although you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it.
“Salut, Y/N!” a voice called suddenly from behind you. You turned and found your neighbor, Simone waving, her three younger siblings in tow. Simone was the first one to introduce herself to you when you moved here, being only eighteen, she spent most of her time babysitting for her parents who ran a bakery in the town.
“Salut, Simone!” you smiled, moving to the side as she caught up to you. “How are you and the other Moreaus doing today?” You grinned as the three small children all rushed to give you a hug, clutching to your baggy jeans. You ruffled their hair lovingly. You’d spent many days hanging out with the family and growing close to the children. On days when Simone was needed at the bakery, you’d offered to watch the children at your house. It took them a bit to warm up to you, but they were particularly attached to your hens, and loved to help feed them.
“We’re doing great!” Simone grinned. “We decided to stop by the market on our way to the bakery. Mama and Papa needed some help with a cake. A family friend has been gone almost all summer on a trip and just moved back into town!” she gushed.
“Oh really? You’ll have to introduce me!” you mused. The two of you had a brief conversation about the bakery before you excused yourself and parted ways. You took a glance at the clock in the center of town, and realized you needed to hurry up and get those cherries before they were gone.
You sighed with relief when you saw Farmer Guillaume in the distance. You made your way through the people, grateful to see one remaining basket of cherries. You hurried through the crowd politely, but still determined to get those cherries. You approached the table, and just as you reached out to grab the cherries, a large hand snatched the basket out from under you. Shocked, your eyes snapped up to the looming figure in front of you.
The man was rather tall, his white pillar of hair making him seem even taller. He wore a tight black top and baggy grey pants. You noticed his arm and left hand were bandaged up, and he seemed to be missing a few fingers. It looked rather recent however, seeing as how it was under fresh wraps. He wore two half heart earrings that if put together would make a whole. His bright sapphire eyes glittered down at you, hand still extended to grab the cherries.
“Ah, my apologies,mademoiselle.” he grinned down at you. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.” he moved the basket of cherries to the bandaged hand, wincing slightly before taking your still-extended hand in his and bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. “My name is Jean-Pierre Polnareff, mademoiselle. May I ask yours?”
You blinked for a moment before responding. “My name is Y/N.” you pulled your hand back from his grasp and nodded politely at him.
“Ah, Y/N...such a pretty name.” he stepped closer to you, causing your face to flush from the incessant flirting.
“Hey, Polnareff. I hate to burst your bubble, but I did promise the mademoiselle that basket of cherries.” Farmer Guillaume growled from behind the produce. The both of you snapped your attention back to the basket of cherries.
“Oh, that’s right!” you pulled the basket from your arm and handed it to the farmer, who grumbled pleasantly. You turned back to the tall man. “It was very nice meeting you, Monsieur Polnareff, but I do believe these are mine.” you shot him a cocky grin as you snatched the basket from his grasp. “And I do have to get going. A la prochaine!”
You had started back through the farmer’s market when you heard your new acquaintance clamoring behind you. You tried to ignore him and walk faster, but his long legs easily caught up to you as you made it out of the market.
“Y/N!” he called after you. You sighed nervously and spun around expectantly. “Listen, I know we don’t know each other well but I would really like to get to know you. And you left so fast, I didn’t even get to propose my idea.” he pouted.
You laughed. “Alright, and what idea is that?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.
A bright smile lit up his face. “I was thinking that since I, too, wanted those cherries, I could perhaps help you with any baking you do with them in return for some of the results. That is, if you’re not busy this evening.” he propositioned.
Was this man serious right now? You’d just met him, and he made your heart hammer in a nervous way from all of the flirting and politeness. That wasn’t to say you didn’t like it. It was just a bit...overwhelming. You didn’t really have anything else planned for the evening anyways...
“Alright.” you finally agreed, against your better judgement. He looked like he was about to cheer when you cut him off. “But, on one condition!”
He smiled and grabbed your hand softly, causing a blush to creep across your cheeks again. “And what would that condition be, bébé?”
You resisted the urge to react to his pet name and continued. “Slow down on the flirting, Romeo.” you teased before turning around and heading back toward your street.
“I-uh...of course mon che- I mean, Y/N.” he stuttered from behind you, hurrying to keep up with you.
***
The kitchen was an absolute disaster zone. The pair of you had made two identical cherry pies, but somehow, your new friend had managed to tip over a bag of flour, which resulted in an embarrassed Jean-Pierre throwing handfuls of it at you when you had laughed at his blunder. Which you returned tenfold, the kitchen soon being covered in the powdery substance.
After the first initial shock of your usually picture perfect home being covered in flour, you sent Polnareff to your bathroom, letting him use the shower first. You couldn’t just let the poor man go home looking like he’d just bathed in cocaine. Much to his protests, you snatched his clothes from the bathroom floor and washed them quickly. They were thrown into the dryer by the time you started cleaning the mess up in the kitchen. In addition to wiping down the cabinets and fridge, you swept and mopped the floors and wiped the counters completely down.
It was when you were going to take the trash out, that Polnareff appeared in the hallway, presumably looking for his clothes. You didn't see him until you turned down the hall to bring the trash out, when you ran straight into his half-naked figure, the only thing covering him a small towel wrapped around his hips. His hair was down around his well-toned shoulders in a messy mullet. You took a moment to let your eyes soak up his fit body, from his bulging chest muscles down to his abs and the gorgeous “v”...
“See something you like, mon cherie?” he smirked, your eyes guiltily snapping back to meet his. You could feel the heat radiating from your face, and turned away quickly so he couldn’t see your face.
“You’re ridiculous. I thought I told you not to flirt!” you cried, heading out the back door instead. You didn’t expect him to follow you but shrieked whenever you turned around from putting the bag in the can to see the half-naked man on your front porch. “Polnareff!” you cried, pushing him inside with both hands. “What are you doing?”
“Well, I was going to tease you some more, but I wanted to know where my clothes went.” he shrugged nonchalantly.
You marched to the dryer and grabbed them out, throwing them at him. “What if someone saw you naked on my porch?” you fumed, embarrassed. “I don’t want people to assume-”
“That you’re spending quality time with the most handsome man in France? Why wouldn’t you want people to know that?” he teased, leaning in the doorway, smirking at you.
You ignored him and headed back to the kitchen. Why did you even let this idiot in your house in the first place? You were still fuming when you heard a knock at the front door. Groaning, you nervously made your way to the front door, noting that Polnareff was in the bathroom getting changed, and praying that one of the neighbors didn’t see him in your house and assume something unspeakable.
You swung the door open to see Simone standing there politely. Ah, of course. Not just one of the neighbors, but one of your friends. You sighed internally. “Simone,” you smiled, albeit rather forced.
“Salut, Y/N!” she smiled back. Behind you, you heard a door open and subconsciously choked on a gasp. You watched Simone glance around you, and although you tried to block her view with your body, she still managed to catch a glimpse of the tall himbo in your home. “Oh,” her eyes grew to the size of quarters. “I see you’ve met Monsieur Polnareff!”
At the sound of his name, the man in question popped up behind you, startling you. “Ah, mon cher Simone! I didn’t know you knew Y/N!” he grinned, leaning in the doorframe beside you.
“Oh yes!” Simone giggled, a blush creeping across her cheeks from the flirty man. “I was actually planning on introducing you to her at your party tonight! I was coming to invite you actually, Y/N.” she explained.
“Oh, well of course I’ll come to your party!” You honestly didn’t want to go out this evening, but you knew how much these things meant to your friend. “Jean-Pierre and I actually just got done baking a couple of pies with some cherries I bought at the market today. We can bring one!”
“Great!” She proceeded to give you the details between flirty remarks from Polnareff, and soon it was just the two of you again. Since you were going to this party suddenly, you knew you needed to take a shower, considering the fact that you were still covered in flour and besides, you needed to take a minute to unwind.
You spent a few minutes picking out an outfit for the night, and settled on a pair of high waisted mom jeans with a black belt and a soft pink sweater. Before you made your way back to the bathroom, you found your friend fidgeting nervously in the living room, looking in a mirror at his now-dry locks.
“Is something wrong?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. He looked at you for a moment before chuckling to himself.
“Ah, its rather stupid. I’m just upset that I don’t have time to go home and fix my hair before the party.” he laughed, still looking upset.
You grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the bathroom. Before he could question what you were doing, you began rifling through your cabinet until you pulled out a basket of hair care products.
“Use whatever you need, but I need to take a shower, so you’ll have to do it with the mirror out there.” you offered, gesturing towards the door. His face lit up and without warning he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.
“Ah, bébé, you’re the best!” he grinned before grabbing a few items and heading to the living room. You shook your head, a small grin finding its way onto your lips. You undressed and stepped into the shower, quickly turning it on and letting the warm jets of water relax your muscles.
But not for long, because you heard the door open. You peeked your head around the shower curtain, giving Polnareff an incredulous look. “What are you doing back in here?” you growled, body shivering even under the hot water from the idea of being naked in the same room as him.
“Sorry, Y/N.” he apologized. “I forgot something, but it's also really difficult to do my hair out there in that small mirror.” he whined, giving you puppy dog eyes.
You groaned, knowing that he would be in there with you while you showered. “Fine, I don’t care.” you slipped your head back into the shower where you began to lather your hair with shampoo. There was a short silence before he began talking again.
“So, I wanted to ask. What brought you to this town?” he asked. You couldn’t believe this man. Was he really trying to make conversation with you while you were showering?
You sighed, and decided to indulge him. “I’m a writer, I came here to get away from the city. I needed some inspiration.”
He whistled lowly in admiration. “That’s interesting. I’ve never met a writer before. Have you written anything I would know?” You heard him drop a comb onto your sink.
“Oh, probably not.” you laughed. “Besides, I didn’t take you for the reading type anyway.” You thought back on your career thus far. You’d written a couple of books that got picked up by a smaller publishing company, and although you were proud of each and every one of them, you knew just how poorly they had done. That’s why you were determined to make this next one different. You just needed a new perspective was all.
“Well, to be honest, I’m not. My sister, however, used to love reading. Couldn’t keep her nose out of a book for very long.” he chuckled, his tone changing slightly. “But after she died, I tried to take up reading. It reminds me of her.”
Oh. Losing a sibling was something that resonated with you. It was part of the reason you had to get away from home after all. Your younger brother had passed away from a chronic illness earlier in the year, and hearing Polnareff going through something similar struck a chord in you.
“I’m...sorry about your sister.” you tried quietly, working the conditioner into your hair. The raw pain you felt for your brother told you just how effective ‘I’m sorry’ was, but you offered it nonetheless. He didn’t answer, and you could hear him fiddling around with a can of hairspray. “What kind of books did she like?” you asked softly.
“Oh all kinds.” he answered right away. “Romance mostly, but she really liked this one series. Some sort of fantasy-adventure novel called ‘The Noble Soldier’. I still remember driving her into the city to pick up a copy of it on its release date.” you could hear the smile in his voice at the memory.
You froze. The Noble Soldier? That was your novel. It was your passion project you’d been working on since you were a high schooler. You paused. “The Noble Soldier? She liked it?” you questioned, slowly washing the conditioner out of your hair.
“Oh yeah. Big time.” he laughed. “I never understood the hype behind books, but after I...lost her that was the first one I read. She was always bugging me about reading it when she was around.”
You poked your head around the shower curtain to grab your towel off of the rack and made eye contact with him in the slightly foggy mirror. “Jean, that’s my book.” you blushed, reaching down to shut the waters off.
“What?” he looked up at you in surprise. “No way. You didn’t.” He looked ecstatic. You nodded and he let out a surprised laugh. “And you thought I wouldn’t know your work, Y/N!” You chuckled nervously, toweling off your hair before you wrapped the towel around your body. “My sister was your biggest fan. Your books made her so happy.”
You stepped out of the shower, carefully stepping onto the rug so as to not slip. “I’m glad.” you smiled.“I didn’t think anyone read my books. I’m glad she liked them.” you smiled, for the first time in your life feeling truly validated as an author. He looked up at you with a warm expression on his face. You could see the admiration he felt for his sister in his eyes. You didn’t miss the brief change of emotion however, as his eyes swept over your scantily clad body, a blush rising on his cheeks, and your face mirroring his. You pointed toward the door with your free hand. “Now get out so I can get changed.”
It wasn’t long after arriving at Simone’s that you found yourself out on the front porch needing a break. Every young adult in all of France seemed to be gathered inside. Simone’s parents had taken their leave with the children early, heading to visit grandparents out of town and leaving the party to only get out of control. Everyone was drinking or smoking something, all in celebration of the party animal himself, Jean-Pierre Polnareff’s return to their small town. You lost him rather quickly upon arrival seeing as how he ran off to socialize or dance. You didn’t mind, seeing as how you found Simone rather quickly. Parties weren’t really your thing, the same with drinking, but you came to every one that Simone threw. From behind the house, you could hear splashing and giggles. They were definitely taking advantage of the large pool her parents had. After a while though, the flashing lights and drunken adults became too much, and you needed a breather.
You sat with your legs crossed on a small bench, watching traffic pass by as you sipped on a red solo cup full of punch that someone had definitely spiked. You looked up as the door opened, and a couple sauntered out, probably walking home where they’d drunkenly fuck their brains out, wake up hungover and do it all again.
It made you think of your own needs. You hadn’t had sex in about a year and a half, an old ex-boyfriend who hadn’t exactly met your needs being both your first and your last. Sometimes you wished you could get drunk and go home with someone just to fulfill that need, but no man ever really caught your eye. It was probably for the best anyway.
The front door swung open again and none other than the center of attention himself popped onto the porch. Jean-Pierre quickly caught sight of you and grinned. Beer in hand, he crashed down onto the bench next to you. “Y/N! The party is inside, you know?” he laughed, slinging an arm around your shoulders.
You rolled your eyes at him and turned your attention back to a car driving by. “What’s wrong, mon cherie?” he retracted his arm and tilted his head to get a better look at your face.
“I just needed a break from the party is all. I’m not much for big gatherings with a lot of people.” you admitted, shooting him half a smile. You didn’t want to seem like a downer, especially seeing how much he loved these gatherings, but he seemed unfazed.
He stood, setting his beer down. He grabbed the solo cup from your hand and pulled you to your feet. “Then let's go home. I mean...I’ll walk you back?” he laughed nervously after fumbling with his phrasing.
You didn’t want to disappoint Simone, but the sound of your own home sounded rather appetizing right about now. Hesitantly, you nodded. Polnareff made his way back inside briefly to let Simone know you were heading back home. Although your house was only a few doors down, Polnareff still insisted that you hold onto his arm the whole way back, even draping his leather jacket around your shoulders against the slightly chilly night.
When you got to your door, you quickly unlocked it and turned back to look at him. “Thank you for walking me such a long ways back home.” you joked, cracking a smile at the tall man. He bowed deeply, eliciting a giggle from you. You paused for a moment, about to head back inside, when an idea popped into your head.
“Jean?” you called to him as he walked back to the main sidewalk. He spun around immediately. “Would you like to come inside? Unless you want to go back to your party, of course.”
Even in the dark, you could make out the faint blush spread across his cheeks. “Of course, Y/N. I’d love to.”
You let him in the front door, and flipped on a light in the living room, kicking off your high top sneakers and settling in on the couch, where he joined you shortly. You grabbed the TV remote off of a coffee table and flipped through the channels until you found something slightly interesting, although the TV wasn’t taking priority in your mind over the handsome man next to you. The two of you sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes, trying to focus on whatever channel you’d flipped to before you both tried to say something at the same time.
“Ah sorry, you first.” you giggled.
“No, go ahead, Y/N!” he urged, smirking at you.
You shook your head and looked away before continuing. “I really had a good time with you today. Even if I just met you this morning.” you laughed. “And I would like to spend more time around you in the future, maybe.”
He was silent, so you turned back to him to find his face as red as a beet. “I...was going to say the same thing.” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
Whether it was your own personal boost of self confidence or whatever was in that punch, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his in one quick motion. He stiffened up in shock at first before relaxing into it, his strong arms wrapping around you to hold you close to his chest.
You pulled back, looking him in the eyes for a long moment before he closed the distance again. You wrapped your arms up over his shoulders and deepened the kiss, giving his tongue entrance to explore your mouth. He tasted like the bitter tang of beer and faintly...cherries. You pulled back again, your teeth gently grazing over his bottom lip.
“Polnareff…” you looked up at him, and he reluctantly pulled his arms from around you. You stumbled to your feet, gently pulling on his hand. He stood up and let you lead him to your bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, and gently pulling him on top of you.
“Are you sure about this, mon amour?” he asked, his gentle eyes full of lust. You answered him by locking lips with him once again. As your back hit the soft mattress, you let your hands roam his muscular body. They roamed over the skin-tight black top he was wearing, up to his shoulders, and finally to his hair, never once breaking the kiss. The bandaged hand held him up while the other gently explored your body as well. He started at your thigh, squeezing gently as he ran his fingers over your hip, tickling your stomach slightly, gently running over your breasts, and finally cupping your face gently as his tongue fought for dominance with yours.
In your passionate haze, you had a single moment of clarity. A voice in the back of your head nagging you for bedding this man you’d met just this morning. This sweet and charming man that you’d almost instantly had a connection with. Were you just using him as an excuse to fulfill your own needs? Did you let your body take control over your mind? Perhaps, but deep down, you didn’t think that was the case. Polnareff didn’t seem the type to just hop into bed with a woman right after meeting her, but you could be wrong about that, too. The look in Jean’s eyes when he looked at you, and the butterflies in your stomach were more than enough proof to you of the contrary.
He broke the kiss, a thin trail of spit making a bridge between your mouths, breaking off when he began to pull his shirt off. You allowed yourself to watch him do so, eyes running over every exposed inch of his pale skin. His muscular body looked like something you’d see on the cover of a magazine you’d flip through while in line at the grocery store, and you could hardly believe you would, at least for tonight, make it yours. As he tossed the shirt to the side, his sudden movement made you very aware of a new sensation, a large bulge in his pants pressing against you. The feeling of his arousal made a shiver run down your spine despite the heat between the two of you.
You propped yourself up as far as possible with his gigantic thighs straddling your waist, and began to tug at your own soft sweater. With hands shaking from the adrenaline, you began to pull it up and over your head, not missing the way his eyes watched in wonder. You looked away from him after tossing it to your bedroom floor, embarrassed to see the hungry way he looked at you.
This would not do for Polnareff however, as he quickly placed a slender finger underneath your chin, turning your head back to look at him, at the soft look in his eyes. Wordlessly, he reassured you before leaning down to kiss you deep once again. This kiss was rather brief, because after only a few moments he started kissing a line across your jaw. His lips found your neck where he gently bit and sucked at it, making sure to leave a few hickies here and there, causing your soft breaths to become heavier under his touch. He trailed down further, across your shoulder, down your collarbone, into your cleavage before he pulled back.
“Is this okay, mon cherie?” he asked permission, gently running his large hands across your still-clothed breasts. When you nodded breathlessly, he slid a hand underneath of your torso, pulling you up slightly while the other fumbled to undo the clasp. It only took him a few seconds before he was gently sliding the material off of your body.
He suppressed a gasp, unable to believe how gorgeous you really were. He thought you were beautiful before, in fact from the first moment he saw you, his breath was taken away by how gorgeous you were in his eyes. Seeing your naked body beneath him was something different to him though, and he was blown away from the sight of you.
It didn’t take you long to notice the way he was looking at your body, and you quickly averted your eyes again, your face growing even more red. “Why are you looking at me like that, Jean?” you pulled your hands to your chest, subconsciously covering yourself from him.
He let out a soft growl, and pulled your hands from your chest, fingers intertwining with them as he pinned them on either side of your head. “I’m looking at you like that because you are beautiful. You are perhaps the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on…” he trailed off, eyes soaking in the sight of you with nothing but pure adoration.
“That can’t be true…” you frowned, still refusing to look him in the eye. His words were too sweet, and in reality were making your stomach do flips underneath him.
He shook his head and chuckled lowly. “If I cannot make you believe you with my words, I’ll simply have to show you. I’ll make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, as you really are.” You gasped as he leaned down and immediately started peppering kisses on your right breast, tongue swirling gently around the already hardened nub. His fingers soon found themselves pinching the bud of your left nipple between them, making your back arch. What he didn’t know was how sensitive your nipples were, and you ended up crying out in pleasure from his sudden assault, the sound like music to his ears.
You were a bit embarrassed by your outburst, but the way he began to rut against your thigh with his hard-on was more than enough to show you how much he liked that noise. You were subconsciously rocking your hips under his mindful tongue, causing a sweet friction between your thigh and his cock, which led to him eliciting a sweet moan of his own. All too soon, he abandoned your chest, kissing further and further down until his fingers looped themselves through the belt loops of your pants after unbuttoning them,and sliding them down slowly over your ass and thighs and they finally found themselves on the floor along with the other discarded items, your already-soaked panties following them shortly.
You shivered with anticipation as he made sure to kiss all over your thighs, around your core, just teasingly close to it. Just when you thought you couldn’t wait any longer, he plunged his tongue between your folds, licking your sweet honey, and drawing out a long cry from your kiss-swollen lips. Barely over the sound of your own heartbeat drumming in your ears, you heard a hum of approval from him as he went in again, suddenly licking way too slow. He was taking his time exploring your nether regions. While his tongue leisurely teased around your entrance, you cried out at a sudden pressure on your clit. His thumb was rubbing small circles into your pearl, sending electric waves of pleasure through your entire body.
You couldn’t help but writhe under his grasp, and sat up, spreading your legs further to give him better access to your body. He took full advantage of this, grabbing your thigh with his free hand as he jammed his tongue inside of you, noisily slurping up your love juices. Slapping a hand over your mouth didn’t prevent the moan from erupting from your throat, much to your dismay. But you were past the point of being embarrassed. Your mind ran blank, descending into a white hazy mist of ecstasy. As you laced your fingers into his white pillar of hair, he began to go faster, licking like he depended on the taste of your fluids for life itself. His tongue was moving faster than you could even perceive, the thumb on your clit matching in speed.
“J-jean…” you cried out, your hands messing up his hair he had spent so long working on. Normally you may have felt bad, but his hair being all messed up kind of did something to you, the sight of the normally perfect style all disheveled.
Approaching your climax dangerously quickly, you made the decision to jerk him by the hair until his face was no longer buried between your thighs, and he looked at you with questioning blue eyes. Soft hands reached under his face and brought it closer to yours, kissing him until your breath ran out.
“Let me return the favor, monsieur .” you purred in his ear, licking his neck suggestively. He hummed into the gesture and pulled back, starting to undress fully, sliding out of his pants quickly. Feeling your gaze on him, he put on a bit of a show, flexing for you as he slowly pulled his underwear off. His cock sprung out quickly, precum already leaking from the tip. You licked your lips and looked up at him with sultry eyes.
Before you could reach out for it however, he pulled away, fingers gently running over the shaft as he pumped it once, twice. “Mon amour, I appreciate the offer but I really just want to be inside of you…” he watched your face, begging for your permission.
In answer, you reached out to him from the edge of the bed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back down onto the bed with you. Your lips pressed blissful kisses to his jaw and throat. He chuckled lowly as he repositioned himself to where his hard manhood was rutting against your folds, not quite going in, but easily being slicked up with your wetness.
"Jean-Pierre...s'il te plaît!” you begged prettily for him. “I want you, mon cheri…” Underneath him, you started moving your own hips back and forth, the heat between the two of you doubling in just moments.
The sickly sweet sound of your begging stirred something inside of him. You gasped as he grunted in frustration, pulling up and away from you and denying you the sweet friction you craved. In one motion, he clamored to his feet, pulling you up into his arms. He held you without trouble, and helped reposition you so you wrapped your legs around his torso, grasping him by the shoulders for balance. His sizable hands found themselves grabbing your ass and squeezing hard.
“Are you sure you want me, bebe?” he asked one last time, pulling back to look you in the eye. He needed to know for sure what you wanted, but you’d already made up your mind.
“Yes, please Jean...please fill me up with your cock.” you whined, impatiently shivering in his arms. At the sound of you begging for him again, he quickly aligned himself with your entrance and thrusted up into you.
The sudden stretch made you cry out, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, but he shushed you with his soft lips on yours as he pulled out and drove back into you again. After a moment, you began to bounce in time with his motions, helping him along and letting him hit deeper and deeper inside of you. With each bounce on his dick, you moaned louder and louder into his mouth, and he echoed every noise back to you.
Breaking the kiss, you found yourself throwing your head back in elation and letting your cries loose. He took the opportunity to lean in and bite your neck softly as his vigorous ramming became even more violent. The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping on skin and both of your combined howls of bliss.
Abruptly, he pulled out of you, and you gave him a concerned whimper. He chuckled softly and stepped forward, laying you back down on the bed tenderly. It took him but a moment to shift back into position, but he spread your legs and worked himself back into you. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head from the new position.
“Ah…Y/N…” he panted, rapidly picking up speed again. “God you’re so tight, so perfect…” he moaned leaning down to sprinkle your chest and face with light kisses. You reached up to grab him, bringing him closer down to you by the shoulders, your nails lightly digging into his muscled frame.
He hit a particular spot that made your toes curl, and you felt a familiar heat rising in your core. “Oh, Jean, that’s it…” you cried, egging him on. The way he was hitting you right now was what was going to push you over the edge, “Yes, right there. Bebe, s’il te pla ît!” you were shouting now, moving your hips as much as possible to meet his grinding motions.
“Mm, Y/N...Y/N let me hear those noises, mon ange!” he cried out. You could see it in his face that he was also very close to climax.
His thrusts became harder and faster, until suddenly, all you could see were stars. “P-Polnareff-” Your body lurched, back arching you flush against his chest as you rode out your high, inconceivable praises falling from your lips.
“Y/N…” He finally pushed into you once, twice more before removing himself and cumming all over both of your stomachs. He towered over you for a moment, panting heavily before he rolled to the side, laying on his back next to you. As the two of you recovered your breath, and you felt your heartbeat slow, you felt his hand reach over and grasp yours tightly for a moment before he got up and headed to the bathroom.
He returned with a cloth to help you clean up, only to find you drifting off to sleep, seemingly worn out from all the day’s activities. He smiled sweetly at you before placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
You awoke the next morning, finding yourself tucked in. You rolled over slightly, hoping to find Polnareff in your large bed, but only finding empty space. Sitting upright, you sighed. It probably was too good to be true. A one-night-stand and nothing else. You had only known the man for one day after all, so there was no way he could feel anything for you.
Still, it would have been nice to have someone handsome to wake up to of course. You leaned against the headboard and thought back on your night. The memories of your love-making filled your mind, and had you not felt your stomach rumble, you could have spent the whole morning just reliving the way he pounded you into the mattress the night before.
You grabbed a silk robe you left laying on your dresser and put it on, trying to decide what you’d be having for breakfast today. Bare feet padded out of the bedroom and down the hallway, where your ears suddenly pricked up at the sound of someone singing in the kitchen.
Hope filled your senses, and you made your way to the kitchen, finding none other than Jean-Pierre Polnareff there, in his underwear, singing along to a song on the radio and cooking eggs in a skillet on the stove. The fresh aroma of coffee filled your senses, and you leaned against the doorframe, holding back a giggle, watching the performance he was unknowingly putting on for you.
His hair was wet - he must have just got out of the shower - and fell around his shoulders in dripping wet waves. Whatever pop song was playing controlled the man’s hips like a marionette, swaying one direction and then the other rapidly.
He spun around, singing along and suddenly spotted you. “Ah, Y/N! Mon petit chou! You’re finally awake!” Smiling brightly, he sat the plate down on the counter. He quickly pulled the remaining eggs from the pan onto a plate and turned the burner off. “ I hope you don’t mind, I’m making us breakfast!” His face suddenly dropped and he made his way to you. “What’s wrong, Y/N? You’re crying.” he took you in his arms, and gingerly grabbed your face, wiping away a tear with his thumb.
You hadn’t even realized you were crying. You shook your head and smiled up at him. “Nothing at all, Jean.” and with that, you stood on tiptoe and pressed your lips against his.