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our youthful indiscretions behind us.”  He had to move to try and ease the almost painful pressure of the erection the look of her and the familiar scent had given him.  He stood and pretended to survey the artwork on her walls and made the mistake of noticing what the vanity mirror reflected as she stood at the wash basin.
    She knew he could see her.  She reached up to loosely catch her hair on top of her head, the thin material of the chemise tightly molding against her breasts.  Bent over the basin to wash away the cosmetics, a fine view of her rounded bottom was outlined through the delicate muslin.  Dipping a cloth in the water she stood up and languorously drew the damp cloth down her neck and across the tops of her breasts into the shadowed valley.  The water dripped down, dampening the material.  Reaching up to remove the heavy necklace from the play, it was easy to pretend she couldn’t manage to release the clasp.
    The devil must have truly been in her then.  She walked over to her dressing table and sat back down, trying again to release the clasp of the necklace and gave a little sigh of exasperation.
    “My lord it would be kind of you to assist me with this.  I just can’t seem to get this undone!”  She met his eyes in the mirror and found herself drowning in amber as he slowly walked up behind her.  She could not have looked away if she wanted to and in her role; the temptress never gives up the power.  She would play it out come hell or high water.  She’d make him want her so she could do the rejecting this time.  He spoke of parting as if he had not slunk away in the dark of night without a word!
    Warm fingers were at the nape of her neck and one finger trailed across her spine raising the fine hairs.  The clasp came loose but Sebastian did not bother to catch the necklace.  It slipped between her breasts. Their eyes met in the mirror and she knew she was in trouble the second those warm fingers slid down to retrieve the necklace.   Caressing and doing far more than pulling the necklace out of her cleavage, his fingers caused her breasts to swell and heat against his hands.  Her head fell back and she found herself looking into his eyes and not their reflection.
    Her lips appeared to part without her volition, and a pink, moist tongue swept her lush bottom lip.  He lost all control.  That cascade of rose gold hair, full lips only inches from his own and the feel of her in his hands was more than a man should be required to resist.  Her eyes and lips smiled at him and there was no protest as he continued to tease the nipple that had tightened enticingly between his fingers.  She still wanted him it was clear and he would take.  Why shouldn’t he?  And that was his last coherent thought as he bent down, drawn irresistibly to taste that luscious mouth.  She still tasted of summer cherries, pungent and so heady.  Soft, warm and firm all at once.  He filled his hands with her breasts, pushing down the chemise and tugging harder at her nipples as his tongue slid into her hot, silky mouth.  He heard a groan and realized it was him.  She was more abundant, soft in the fullness of her womanhood and he relished the change.
    Their bodies remembered each other, ignited for each other and a chaise was so close.  He lifted her and turned, guiding her to the couch.  She fell back with abandon, her hair a waterfall raining down over naked breasts, her legs invitingly spread.  She would make a spectacular mistress he decided.  Childhood and childhood dreams were behind them.  They were who they were now.  He would offer her carte blanche.  He could still have her. There was no reason to deny himself.  She was an actress, a widow and he was rich.  It was a good plan for both of them.  They weren’t starry eyed children; they could still have a relationship, just not the one they had hoped for all those years ago. 
    What happened next was not in the plan.
    One elegant foot