But rather than indulge himself, he went to her opposite strap and began the process all over again. By the time her curves were fully exposed, gooseflesh had pebbled all over her chest, drawing her pretty peaks to tight little points.
“Stunning,” he marveled, taking another sip of his wine.
He didn’t indulge in her breasts, instead focusing on the scrap of lace between her thighs.
That would be harder to remove.
However, he wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge.
He kissed a path down her flat abdomen to the edge of the panties covering her shaved mound. Then he dipped his head between her legs to taste her sweetness through the fabric, the scent drawing out the predator within him.
“Mmm.” She tasted absolutely divine. He paired it with another sip of wine and groaned. “Yes. That’s what the wine needs.” More than her blood.
Or maybe… a mix of both.
His mouth left her sweet heat, traveling down her thigh to his favorite artery. Her legs tensed as he kissed her throbbing pulse.
She knew what he desired.
And the flush painting her face and breasts told him she more than approved.
But before he could bite, he needed that lace removed.
His gaze slid up to hers as he slowly straightened, still holding the wine in one hand. He’d been standing the whole time, leaning over her alluring form on the bed and using his free hand for balance against the mattress.
He set the glass down to focus on those panties again, his patience slowly slipping away.
It’d been a long fucking day.
And he wanted to drink his fill. To hear her scream. To fuck her into oblivion and forget all their worries for just one beautiful moment.
Decided, he grabbed her panties by their thin straps along her hips and ripped them from her skin.
She gasped in shock, her brow immediately furrowing.You owe me a new pair of underwear, Mister Wakefield.
I’ll buy you a fucking lingerie line,he replied as he tore his shirt over his head.
Her eyes immediately went to his physique, as they always did. He hadn’t been as regularly active lately, his swimming routine utterly fucked from current events. But the way she looked at him said it hadn’t made much difference.
The perks of immortality, he supposed.
Which meant she was forever frozen in her current form—a fact he would thank destiny for every damn day.
Because she redefined the meaning of beauty with her gorgeous blonde hair, glittering green eyes, elven chin, perfect tits, slender waist, and long fuck-me legs.
Every part of her was perfect, as though destiny had made her just for him.
And the way Aya looked at him said she felt the exact same way about him.
He popped the button on his jeans, sighing in relief as he drew the zipper down. His cock was so damn hard for her—always so damn hard for her—that it hurt to breathe.
Delayed gratification had its perks.
But sometimes, he just wanted to be inside his female and never let the pleasure end instead.
“Still planning to sweeten your wine?” Aya taunted, her gaze knowing.
“Maybe after I fuck you,” he said, kicking off his jeans and boxer shorts along the way.
