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Watching him shrug off his jacket and lay it over the chair in front of my vanity table, I stayed silent as he went to drag off his tee shirt.
His arms bulged, his pecs did too, and his abs—sweet, merciful, beautiful, kind Mother Mary—they were just… I couldn’t begin to describe them without getting overheated.
"Leave the jeans on," I requested, aware my voice had turned guttural.
His lips quirked up at the corners. "Like them, do you?"
My man lived in suits. Something else I wasn’t going to complain about. But jeans?
"You have the ass for them," was all I said.
Understatement.
He moved over to the bed after he bent down and unknotted the ties on his shitkickers. Toeing out of them as well as his socks and, walking over to me barefoot, I tried not to melt into the mattress but it wasn’t easy.
"I’m an intelligent woman."
He paused on his walk toward me. "I know you are."
"How can your feet be sexy? Why do you do this to me? It isn’t fair."
I had to credit him with being smart because he didn’t smirk at my whining, just reached down and unzipped his fly.
Was it getting hot in here?
He pulled his cock out and I watched him roll his hand along his shaft, murmuring, "Is this fair? Me driving around Manhattan with a boner because I know you’re here, waiting for me, when I have business to attend to?"
A deep sigh drifted from my lips. "I need you," I whispered, unable to say anything other than the truth.
"I know, little one."
"I hate your lessons," I sniped, squirming against the restraints.
"The state of your pussy tells me differently. I should probably punish you for lying to me all the time."
I hissed. "I don’t lie."
"You manufacture the truth?"
Despite my agitation, I had to smile. "Something like that."
He stepped over to the bed. "When were you going to tell me about us having brunch with Jen and Valentini this weekend?"
I blinked. "Huh?"
"Brunch. With your best friend. My cousin."
"Umm." Was it just me or had his hand sped up as he jacked off?
He clicked the fingers of his other hand together, and when that didn’t stop me from drooling over his dick, I saw him grab something from his pocket.
A second later, the vibrations started.
"You bastard," I roared but it tapered off into a whimper.
"Concentrate, Savannah," Aidan intoned.
My pussy clamped down around the vibrating dildo and I writhed against the bed, trying to offset the arrhythmic tempo he’d picked. I liked strong and steady. One consistent pulse. This was all over the place.
