Romance Catherine Breillat Novels & Stories

“That’s not good enough, soon for fifteen years, would this happen when I am old and weak.” Catherine finally looked at him, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Do you really think you can rush me?” A tense silence fell between them. “Raymond has taken the first fall,” she continued, the children are our means. Her lover arched a brow. “And what is that?” Catherine’s smile was slow, deliberate. “Power.” Her lover scoffed. “And if Rico finds out?” She took a sip of her wine, her gaze unreadable. “He won’t for the twelfth thousand time.”

But Catherine was already up on her feet as she sauntered towards Luca who smirked at the very vivid-looking Rasmus. Catherine took her time as she passed Luca and paused behind Hunter who grinned at her. She leaned down towards Hunter as she felt Rasmus drilling holes in her head. She winked at Hunter who laughed and pretended to feel hurt when she crouched near Rasmus and gave a quick peck on his cheek. Catherine sat down on her spot as she poked her tongue at Luca. Whereas Rasmus gazed at her vehemently. They again spun the bottle and it paused at Catherine yet again.

“All that matters is that we didn’t let last night's incident define us and break us apart. We are back bigger, better and stronger in love. And that is all that matters, honey.” I nodded and forced back a smile. Catherine stood, leaned over and kissed me passionately on the lips, catching me unawares. Sitting back down, she gladly tossed the paper aside at the further end of the dining table. As I nibbled on my croissant, I felt a bit guilty and unsure. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. Maybe it was the kiss with Brianna last night, or perhaps it was because I didn’t fully trust Catherine with her last words after everything that had happened. She had a knack for surprises, and I had t

Every arrow pointed inward toward one central mark. “You’re too calm.” Catherine’s voice broke the silence. She stood near the tall window, her slim figure reflected in the black glass. She had shed the composure she carried in public now she looked restless, arms folded tight across her chest. Her eyes were sharp, though, always sharp. Vivienne allowed herself the smallest smile. “Panic is for people who don’t know the ending of their own story.” “And you do?” Catherine turned, a flicker of challenge beneath the question.

Catherine panted, whimpering as she bucked her hips up to try to gain more friction "P-please Steph , a little a faster" And faster I went. A little bit harder than she had anticipated even. After I had assaulted her enough with my fingers, I flipped her off onto her stomach and her body quickly moving into a doggy position. I hurriedly pulled my pants and briefs down before slamming myself hard right into her warmness. My palm collided hard with the soft flesh of her butt and Catherine moaned loudly, her body slamming back just as hard against my shaft. We went at it hard until the both of us reached our climax. It was fucking electrifying

“Catherine is a wonderful conversationalist.” “To you,” Trevor stressed with annoyance as he poured champagne in their glasses. “Just once I’d like to see that woman let her hair down. And breast implants and ass injections wouldn’t hurt her one bit.” Christopher chuckled as Selena shook her head. Trevor filled his glass to the hilt. “Now, which one was she?” Selena asked. “We didn’t get to speak with her tonight,” Christopher said. “You didn’t meet her.” “But for future reference, Catherine is a lawyer who has short blonde hair, a flat ass, and no chest to speak of, not even small lumps. She has thin lips, but pretty blue eyes.”

I didn’t know if it was rage or the frustration of the past days, or guilt, some twisted ache in my chest…but I was breaking apart by her charms. A tight knot coiled at the pit of my stomach. Ignoring the protest of dax in my head. I grabbed her wrist, stopping her from going further. My eyes met her lust filled eyes and without giving her time to react. I spun her around, slamming her back against the opposite wall hard enough to shake the whole room. Her eyes widened, lips parting, of course not with fear, but with pleasure… sometimes I forgot that Catherine was more than a decorated princess who can't lift up a sword. She is a born fighter and a leader of a troupe in her fathers legion.

Katrina hurriedly stepped in front of Jonathan and blocked his path as he tried to flee out of the window. "Katrina, let me go,” Jonathan shouted and attempted to push her away. I felt a little relieved when Jonathan tried to flee instead of attacking me because he didn't want to injure me. Finally, he was thinking about me. She grinned devilishly and shook her head. "No, Jonathan. I won't let you go. Don't you want her blood? Aren't you yearning for it? Go to her, am I stopping you? Or is Mia stopping you? Nobody's stopping you; go drink her blood." She was persuading Jonathan to drink my blood, and I was just gazing at him intensely, my eyes filled with affection.

I was left with my bra on and a clenching and hot center. “I hate what you're doing to me,” Anthony said with bared teeth. “I love it,” I said and parted my legs for him. Anthony cursed under his breath and leaned forward. He captured my lips with his and moved his hand to the buckle of my bra. He undid it and slipped the bra off me, freeing my breasts. My nipples tightened at the cold air, turning me on even more. He pulled away from my lips and cupped my breast. As he played with one breast, his other hand went to my short skirt. He pulled down my skirt, until it was at my knees. He moved backward and took it off completely, then tossed it over his shoulder.

Not yet. “I can’t do that,” I say, keeping my voice steady even though every nerve in my body feels lit up and raw. “Of course you can,” she purrs, stepping closer, lifting her gun. Christ. She’s bold. Not the soft, sweet woman I dreamed of in the pairing. That Catherine was gentle. Shy. A flickering candle. This Catherine? She’s a wildfire wrapped in skin and steel. She’s thunder in the shape of a woman—made of rage, precision, and a kind of beauty that could stop time.