hips.
It wasnât until he began peeling the skin-like pants off her that she remembered she had nothing on beneath. He didnât seem to mind. Neither did she, as it turned out.
She went to step out of her heels, but he said, âLeave them on.â
She darted a look to his eyes, but complied. As it was, he was about four inches taller. Without the heels, it would be about half a foot difference. She figured it wouldnât hurt to minimize the difference, at least while they were standing.
Then he said, âWalk over to that chair.â It wasnât a command, more a request.
Still, she was surprised by it. âWhy?â
He smiled. âBecause I asked nicely?â
Her thighs trembled a bit. Hadnât she fantasized about him calling the shots? The very idea made her even wetter. If possible. She felt her inner muscles clench hard as she turned and walked away from him across the room to a high-backed, Victorian-looking chair.
âTurn around.â
She did. Very slowly. She didnât smile, nor did she look cool. She simply did as he asked until she faced him again. Then she waited.
âYou are stunning.â
Now she smiled. Felt her skin heat.
âDonât believe me? Turn to your right.â
She did, and gasped. There was a full-length oval mirror tucked in the corner between the dresser and the chair.
âLook at yourself, Natalie.â
She couldnât not. She lookedâ¦ripe. And those black, razor-sharp heels were downright sex on stilts. Sheâd always thought herself passably attractive, basic beauty but no frills. Only, right nowâ¦dear God.
âKnow what I see?â He moved behind her, so she could see him in the mirror. His body was wider than hers, taller than hers. He framed her entirely. His skin was darker, his look wilder, rougher. He made her look all the more refined, yet she didnât feel fragile.
He reached through her arms and gently cupped her breasts. She exhaled on a sharp gasp of pleasure, her knees giving slightly at the hot rush his touch set off.
âI see nipples that stand out for my attention.â He slowly rubbed his thumbs over them, eliciting a moan from her she couldnât contain. She whimpered when his hands slid away, but moaned again as his flat palms smoothed over her abdomen, then spread downward.
She trembled hard as his fingertips brushed at the dark, downy curls at the apex of her thighs.
âI want to see what you have waiting for me here, Natalie,â he said, his lips against the side of her neck.
It was impossibly arousing. She wanted to move his fingers lower, push them inside her. She stepped back,needing to feel his body touching hers, needing more than just his palms on her stomach, his fingers brushing her.
But he stepped back, then moved in front of her. He turned to face the mirror, almost entirely blocking her from view. âTurnabout is fair play, right?â
The muscles between her legs were tied in a knot of pleasure so tight she wanted to scream with the need to untie it. But she looked at him in the mirror and knew she wanted this even more.
She stood just to the side of him and pressed her hands to his hips, then slid his briefs all the way down his legs to the floor. She was almost kneeling. She placed her hands just above his knees, then slowly dragged them upward as she stood again. He gasped this time as she slid her fingers around his pelvis, almost brushing against his jutting erectionâ¦but not quite.
âDo you know what I see?â
âWhat?â The word sounded as if it had been ripped from him.
She looked to his face, which stood in chiseled relief as he clenched his jaw, straining for control.
âI see a man who can fill me like Iâve never been filled before.â
He groaned but kept his hands at his side.
She remembered that moment in the elevator, when sheâd fantasized about him stroking himself. She wanted to ask him to do it, even