Eliza leaned down and kissed her more tenderly than before. Rowyn let her weight fall back more heavily against Eliza, trusting that she would be held safely.
“Is the chair some sort of family heirloom passed down through generations?”
Rowyn gestured toward the armchair and Eliza looked taken aback by the question.
“No. My family aren’t the generational heirloom type. Why?”
“I want to make sure I’m not sullying any fond memories before I make you strip and sit in it for me.”
Eliza’s eyes widened comically, and Rowyn wanted to savethe mental picture forever.
“I have a perfectly good bed right here,” Eliza replied.
“You do. And that’s where we will end up, eventually. But right now, I want you to take off your clothes and sit in that beautiful chair for me. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Does it matter if I do?” Eliza asked.
The question was more of a challenge than anything else.
“We both know it would. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. But the red creeping up your cheeks tells me the idea isn’t as unwelcome as you’d like to make me think,” Rowyn replied.
Eliza lifted a hand and began to unbutton the silk blouse that accentuated her curves.
“You want me to take everything off?” Eliza asked.
She shrugged off the blouse to reveal a red lace bra that clung to her skin like it belonged there.
“Do you wear sexy bras to work all the time, or is this my lucky day?”
Eliza dropped her still-unbuttoned pants to reveal the matching underwear to the bra, and Rowyn gulped at the picture of perfection before her.
“I wear them when I want to feel good about myself. That’s been a lot more often than not, recently.”
You wear them for me.
Rowyn wouldn’t let the words leave her lips, but she understood without a doubt that that was what Eliza was saying.
“Keep them on. For now. It would be a shame not to let them make us both feel good,” Rowyn said as she pointed to the chair.
Eliza walked backward and sat into the seat. Rowyn didn’t, couldn’t, move right away. The sight of Eliza in nothing but a set of deep red underwear, bright against the dark black leather chair, was one to behold.
“Turn on the lamp,” Rowyn said.
Eliza’s immediate compliance without question made Rowyn smile. Rowyn pressed the switches by the door until the lights were all off, bar the soft glow of the reading lamp. The angle of the light was perfectly positioned to highlight Eliza’s body.
“Fuck. You’re a goddess,” Rowyn said as she approached the chair.
“Does that mean I get worshiped?” Eliza asked with a smirk.
Rowyn stopped right before she got to the chair and reached out. She spread Eliza’s legs open wide and then sat back to take in the view.
“In every possible way, Elle. But you’ll have to beg for it.”
Eliza’s bravado slipped as she opened her legs wider in what looked like an involuntary response to Rowyn’s words. Rowyn ran a finger slowly up Eliza’s thigh.
“You said you don’t like nicknames,” Rowyn said.
Eliza glanced up from where her eyes had been tracking the path of Rowyn’s finger and looked at her in confusion.
