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Authors: Elizabeth Finn
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his hand started stroking, he gasped silently, and his stomach muscles clenched hard against the need to release himself. He wanted to close his eyes and imagine he was inside her body as his hand moved over his length, but he couldn’t pull his gaze from her face. She was so incredibly stunning, and in a matter of seconds, his fangs were completely protracted, his mouth open, and the muscles of his face were strained and twitching.
Controlling the sound coming from his mouth was nearly impossible, and he moaned quietly as his palm passed over the head of his penis. She shifted beside him, closing the space between their bodies, and the moment her lips brushed his shoulder as she snuggled into him, a deep groan emanated from his chest as the muscles of his neck strained. There was little restraint after she touched him, and he came, pulsing streams of semen on his stomach as he stroked the length of his erection and massaged the silky liquid from his cock. His spasming stomach muscles didn’t go unnoticed by her subconscious, and she quietly whimpered beside him at the movements he was making. He stared at the ceiling, silently waiting for the ecstasy to pass, and when it finally faded, he pulled away from her, zipping and buttoning his pants as he went and retreated to the bathroom.
His reflection in the mirror looked damn near devastated. He wasn’t above masturbating, and while he didn’t indulge often, because he found it was more a cruel taunt than anything, he had no real commitment to keeping his hands off his dick. What was devastating was his utter loss of control. He controlled everything in his world, including what he was and was not willing to do with his body. But he couldn’t control this—not his desire for her. There was no wrangling the need at all. The muscles of his stomach were glistening, and as he wiped himself clean with a washcloth, he was startled when she suddenly walked in.
She rubbed her eyes as she walked, and as he quickly finished with the washrag, he watched her reflection in the mirror in front of him. Her nipples were taut under the fabric of the gown, and as her arms dropped back down to her side, she met his eyes. Her gaze drifted down to his wet stomach, and her head cocked to the side. “What are you doing?” Her voice was whisper quiet.
“Nothing.” But he couldn’t hold her eyes as he said the word. She studied him for a moment, but eventually let it go and approached the counter next to him. “Are you feeling okay?” She nodded, still looking at his stomach in the mirror. When he turned to her and lifted the back of his hand to her forehead, she reached her fingers to his stomach, and his muscles rippled at her touch. “Please stop.” His voice sounded demanding, even though it was the last thing he wanted her to do.
Her eyes shifted to his, and he held hers coolly. Inside his heart sped. He could see himself lunging for her lips, clasping his hand to her hip and pulling her to him. And as he watched her, it was there again. The subtle incredible scent of her own desire. It shouldn’t be there. She shouldn’t want him … but he’d be damned if she didn’t. It sure as hell didn’t help the situation.
When they returned to his bed, she didn’t take long to move close to him and curl into his arms. And she was awake when she did. He slept for the first time in more months than he could recall. He had research data he’d intended to review, but with her in his arms, there was no place he’d rather be.
Chapter 8
“So, this is charge number four in the past year. Seems you’re on a roll, Ms. Danner.” His sarcasm left Abigail wanting to slap the man. What right did he have to judge her?
“Listen, I don’t need a new lawyer…” She snapped in her best bitch voice. It was a couple days later, and she’d regained her strength … and apparently her voice. She’d spent the last year perfecting this particular voice, and it
Controlling the sound coming from his mouth was nearly impossible, and he moaned quietly as his palm passed over the head of his penis. She shifted beside him, closing the space between their bodies, and the moment her lips brushed his shoulder as she snuggled into him, a deep groan emanated from his chest as the muscles of his neck strained. There was little restraint after she touched him, and he came, pulsing streams of semen on his stomach as he stroked the length of his erection and massaged the silky liquid from his cock. His spasming stomach muscles didn’t go unnoticed by her subconscious, and she quietly whimpered beside him at the movements he was making. He stared at the ceiling, silently waiting for the ecstasy to pass, and when it finally faded, he pulled away from her, zipping and buttoning his pants as he went and retreated to the bathroom.
His reflection in the mirror looked damn near devastated. He wasn’t above masturbating, and while he didn’t indulge often, because he found it was more a cruel taunt than anything, he had no real commitment to keeping his hands off his dick. What was devastating was his utter loss of control. He controlled everything in his world, including what he was and was not willing to do with his body. But he couldn’t control this—not his desire for her. There was no wrangling the need at all. The muscles of his stomach were glistening, and as he wiped himself clean with a washcloth, he was startled when she suddenly walked in.
She rubbed her eyes as she walked, and as he quickly finished with the washrag, he watched her reflection in the mirror in front of him. Her nipples were taut under the fabric of the gown, and as her arms dropped back down to her side, she met his eyes. Her gaze drifted down to his wet stomach, and her head cocked to the side. “What are you doing?” Her voice was whisper quiet.
“Nothing.” But he couldn’t hold her eyes as he said the word. She studied him for a moment, but eventually let it go and approached the counter next to him. “Are you feeling okay?” She nodded, still looking at his stomach in the mirror. When he turned to her and lifted the back of his hand to her forehead, she reached her fingers to his stomach, and his muscles rippled at her touch. “Please stop.” His voice sounded demanding, even though it was the last thing he wanted her to do.
Her eyes shifted to his, and he held hers coolly. Inside his heart sped. He could see himself lunging for her lips, clasping his hand to her hip and pulling her to him. And as he watched her, it was there again. The subtle incredible scent of her own desire. It shouldn’t be there. She shouldn’t want him … but he’d be damned if she didn’t. It sure as hell didn’t help the situation.
When they returned to his bed, she didn’t take long to move close to him and curl into his arms. And she was awake when she did. He slept for the first time in more months than he could recall. He had research data he’d intended to review, but with her in his arms, there was no place he’d rather be.
Chapter 8
“So, this is charge number four in the past year. Seems you’re on a roll, Ms. Danner.” His sarcasm left Abigail wanting to slap the man. What right did he have to judge her?
“Listen, I don’t need a new lawyer…” She snapped in her best bitch voice. It was a couple days later, and she’d regained her strength … and apparently her voice. She’d spent the last year perfecting this particular voice, and it
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