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I tug his pants and boxers lower, freeing his cock—hard, thick, perfect—and my mouth goes dry at the sight.

How can a man look like this?

There is nothing—absolutely nothing—about him that isn’t meant to be admired.

He is precision, control, temptation built into this spectacular specimen.

“See something you like?” he mocks.

“Yeah,” I reply honestly. “You.”

“Good,” he murmurs, lowering his lips to my throat, his touch deliberate, unhurried, making me even more needy. “Because I see something that’s driving me insane.”

FORTY

Ethan

“Ethan,” she whispers an hour later, staring wide-eyed around the luxury boutique. She looks scared. Shaken. Completely overwhelmed. But she also looks recently fucked, thoroughly satisfied. And that alone puts a feral satisfaction in my chest.

Her hair is more tousled than it was before I dragged my hands through it in the elevator. Her lips are swollen from my kisses, my bites. And her eyes—fuck—she has that spark that drives me insane every damn time.

She’s absolutely breathtaking.

“Every dress here costs at least my entire monthly salary.”

She’s surrounded by a small mountain of options, all brought out at my request. Silk, sequin, satin, velvet—rich colors and dramatic cuts, each more stunning than the last.

“How do you know?” I tease. “They don’t even display prices.”

“Exactly,” she says, glaring at me. “If I think about it more, I’m pretty sure one dress costs six months of my salary. Minimum.”

I lean fully back on the velvet sofa and smile.

“Stop thinking about the price, Thalia. Choose what you like. You can have all of them.”

She stands in front of me, two hangers in her hands, a pile of dresses and shoes beside her. She looks radiant and nervous at the same time.

“If you’d like to try them on, the changing room is right there,” one of the employees says kindly.

“Okay, thank you,” Thalia responds politely.

I pull out my phone, answering a few emails, but every twenty seconds I glance up to check on her.

She’s so absorbed in choosing that she doesn’t notice how closely I’m watching her, how much I enjoy it.

“I like this one,” she says at last, lifting a hanger with a red dress.

“Excellent choice,” the same employee says enthusiastically. “You can try it on.”

Thalia doesn’t answer. She just turns her head to look at me.

“You can leave us alone,” I say to the woman without taking my eyes off Thalia.

She leaves immediately, and I slip my phone into my pocket, rising to my feet.

I step closer, take the hanger from her hand, and set it on the pile.

“I want you to tell me again,” I murmur, brushing my fingers gently over her hands, “just how good are you at sex in public places.”