crisp white dress shirt. He’d jerked up his pants as he stood, but his cock still protruded from the opening of his fly. The condom clung to his relaxed, but still-formidable sex. Her muzzy, sexually satiated state partially evaporated when she recalled how he hadn’t removed all of his clothing with that woman—Astrid—either.
He turned, and she saw him in profile, and the intrusive thought scattered. He was so beautiful. It didn’t matter what she knew about his lack of interest in intimacy with women or his challenging sexual practices. It didn’t matter that he would get his fill of her soon, she realized as she watched him walk to the adjoining bathroom and open the door.
Her hunger for him wasn’t something to be picked apart and tested rationally. It just
was
, and all she could do was pray she’d survive relatively unscarred after he’d gone.
When he opened the bathroom door a minute or two later, her eyelids were drifting closed. She immediately perked up upon seeing Vanni walking toward her wearing a pair of low-hanging black pajamas that left very little to the imagination. Once again, she was struck by the golden-brown smoothness of his skin. His naked torso was a living sculpture of lean, well-developed muscles, his abdomen so taut she could have easily bounced a quarter off his flat stomach. Ridged, oblique muscles slanted like an arrow to his crotch, seeming to defy her not to look in the downward direction. He stalked toward her and the bed. Despite her acute awareness of his gaze on her, Emma couldn’t tear her gaze off the image of his cock pressing lightly against soft cotton and hanging between his strong thighs: the very picture of temptation.
“Emma.”
He stopped next to the bed. She looked up at his face sluggishly. His aquamarine eyes were narrowed and his angular jaw was hard.
“Yes?” she rasped.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
She had a vivid memory of him saying something similar when he’d bidden her to him that first time in the Breakers’ dining room, and how intimidated she’d been.
Why are you looking at me like that?
he’d demanded.
For the first time, she realized he’d seen naked desire in her eyes even back then, and had recognized it when she hadn’t. Understanding that, her former confusion melted away. She continued to stare up at him, sliding her gaze over his torso and lingering on the small, brown disks of his nipples. Her lips parted in wonderment when she saw them roughen and tighten. Slowly, she met his gaze.
“I can’t help it,” she said softly.
His eyes seemed to spark. Her heart jumped with excitement but she forced herself to remain still when he abruptly reached for the corner of the bedding and flipped it back, exposing her naked body. His gaze traveled over her, hot and possessive.
“Why shouldn’t I look at you, when you look at me like that?” she whispered, her skin prickling and her nipples tightening under his stare.
“Because your eyes make me want to do things I shouldn’t,” he said, his gaze fixed between her thighs, his stare hungry. Her clit pinched tight. She had an almost overwhelming urge to touch herself to ease the friction. He came onto the bed next to her, and her excitement only amplified. He took her into his arms and drew her against him. A small shudder went through her at the delight of pressing to his hard male length, the tips of her breasts crushing against warm, smooth skin. Their close contact was momentarily broken when he twisted, turning out the bedside lamp.
Then he was gathering her into his arms in the darkness. Emma exhaled shakily, her cheek pressed against a dense pectoral muscle. Her thigh was wedged beneath his legs. She could feel the outline of his cock. He was growing erect again. He felt sublime. Her curiosity goaded her.
“Why shouldn’t you do those things to me?” she whispered. His cock swelled against her thigh. For a moment, he didn’t speak, and her entire awareness
He turned, and she saw him in profile, and the intrusive thought scattered. He was so beautiful. It didn’t matter what she knew about his lack of interest in intimacy with women or his challenging sexual practices. It didn’t matter that he would get his fill of her soon, she realized as she watched him walk to the adjoining bathroom and open the door.
Her hunger for him wasn’t something to be picked apart and tested rationally. It just
was
, and all she could do was pray she’d survive relatively unscarred after he’d gone.
When he opened the bathroom door a minute or two later, her eyelids were drifting closed. She immediately perked up upon seeing Vanni walking toward her wearing a pair of low-hanging black pajamas that left very little to the imagination. Once again, she was struck by the golden-brown smoothness of his skin. His naked torso was a living sculpture of lean, well-developed muscles, his abdomen so taut she could have easily bounced a quarter off his flat stomach. Ridged, oblique muscles slanted like an arrow to his crotch, seeming to defy her not to look in the downward direction. He stalked toward her and the bed. Despite her acute awareness of his gaze on her, Emma couldn’t tear her gaze off the image of his cock pressing lightly against soft cotton and hanging between his strong thighs: the very picture of temptation.
“Emma.”
He stopped next to the bed. She looked up at his face sluggishly. His aquamarine eyes were narrowed and his angular jaw was hard.
“Yes?” she rasped.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
She had a vivid memory of him saying something similar when he’d bidden her to him that first time in the Breakers’ dining room, and how intimidated she’d been.
Why are you looking at me like that?
he’d demanded.
For the first time, she realized he’d seen naked desire in her eyes even back then, and had recognized it when she hadn’t. Understanding that, her former confusion melted away. She continued to stare up at him, sliding her gaze over his torso and lingering on the small, brown disks of his nipples. Her lips parted in wonderment when she saw them roughen and tighten. Slowly, she met his gaze.
“I can’t help it,” she said softly.
His eyes seemed to spark. Her heart jumped with excitement but she forced herself to remain still when he abruptly reached for the corner of the bedding and flipped it back, exposing her naked body. His gaze traveled over her, hot and possessive.
“Why shouldn’t I look at you, when you look at me like that?” she whispered, her skin prickling and her nipples tightening under his stare.
“Because your eyes make me want to do things I shouldn’t,” he said, his gaze fixed between her thighs, his stare hungry. Her clit pinched tight. She had an almost overwhelming urge to touch herself to ease the friction. He came onto the bed next to her, and her excitement only amplified. He took her into his arms and drew her against him. A small shudder went through her at the delight of pressing to his hard male length, the tips of her breasts crushing against warm, smooth skin. Their close contact was momentarily broken when he twisted, turning out the bedside lamp.
Then he was gathering her into his arms in the darkness. Emma exhaled shakily, her cheek pressed against a dense pectoral muscle. Her thigh was wedged beneath his legs. She could feel the outline of his cock. He was growing erect again. He felt sublime. Her curiosity goaded her.
“Why shouldn’t you do those things to me?” she whispered. His cock swelled against her thigh. For a moment, he didn’t speak, and her entire awareness
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