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Who knew when she might be able to have this? She had almost died earlier this week. She had struggled for so long up to this moment. Why not finally live in all the ways she hadn’t been able to?
Enjoy the gowns, the excess and this man. This desire. Take it all, experience it all, while she could.
She lifted to her toes, pressed her mouth to his. His hands, which had remained frustratingly at his sides, now moved up to cup her face, angle her head differently. He took the kiss deeper, wilder, like he had in the car. She wanted everything she’d felt then, but more.
She wanted her hands onhisbody. She wanted to feel what she could do tohim.
He pulled her down the hall, and she was so unused to the heels that she nearly tripped. But he held her upright, leading her into his bedroom with a single-minded purpose. She stepped inside, taking it all in. The wealth, the beauty, this shocking and wondrous feeling inside of her. The way the sound of the door closing behind her filled her with anticipation and want.
The room she’d stayed in was beautiful, more luxurious than anything she’d ever seen, but his was remarkable. Not just the space but how comfortable everything looked. How warm and soft.
But when he pressed his mouth to the back of her neck, she could not have cared less about the big windows with their view of the night sky or the soft give of the plush carpet underneath her heels.
She only cared about the sensations his mouth, his hands could create in her. No wonder people did stupid things for this.Thiswas a drug worth risking for. She wanted to turn, but his fingers brushed the top of her dress, and she heard and felt him pull the zipper down. Until the dress slithered down and pooled at her feet.
The dress had not allowed her to wear anything underneath it up top, and though her breasts were small, it was strange not to have them bound. She brought her arms up to cover herself reflexively, even as she stepped out of the dress, back still toward him.
“Face me, Alexandra.”
Yes, she was Alexandra now. A woman. A powerful woman. With money and position and whatever she wanted. Including a lover.Thislover. So she turned, though an old ingrained habit or shame orsomethinghad her keeping her arms over her bare chest.
He shook his head and reached forward, taking her by the wrists, but the touch was so gentle it was like he barely held her at all. And when he pulled her hands away from her breasts, she didn’t even think to fight him. Not with the way his gaze raked over her. Hungry.
“How you have hidden such beauty is beyond me,” he murmured. His thumb brushed over one darkened peak, and pleasure shot through her from that point to the aching center of her.
“Lysias.” She didn’t know what to say. What to ask for. She understood sex as a kind of impartial bystander—she had lived on the streets too long not to hear how people spoke of it, witness what people would do for it. She understood, too, that there were many different uses. That it could be unwanted, transactional, but also she knew that some people sought it out. The pleasure, the release. The wild rush of it all.
She wanted that. With him. Here and now and for as long as they could, because it would not last, this wild, desperate feeling. Nothing this wonderful ever did.
“What is it you want from me,asteri mou? Do you wish me to touch you again, to watch you fall apart here in the light?”
“Yes. No. I...” She wanted everything and had no vocabulary for all her wants.
“Or perhaps I should taste you,” he continued, maneuvering her deeper into the room until the back of her knees hit the bed, and she found herself seated.
Lysias kneeling before her, as he spread her legs apart.
She opened her mouth with a thought to say something. Anything. But she could only stare, magnetized as he pulled her panties from her, leaned forward and, with no preamble, licked deep within her.
She might have bolted off the bed, if he’d not hooked his arms around her legs. Holding her in place. His strength felt like a safe haven, even as new needs clawed at her, and pleasure climbed and climbed into its explosive peak.
When she managed to open her eyes, she was sprawled out on his bed, completely naked. And he stood at the foot of the bed, completely clothed. The only sign he’d done anything untoward was his slightly disheveled hair and the smudge of lipstick—herlipstick—on his jaw.
She had the strangest desire to put her mark all over him.
She pointed at him. “Now you. Take off your clothes.” Because this wasn’t fair, and she wanted to see him. Needed to see under all that polish.
He raised a dark brow. “I thought we had established that I do not like to be demanded about.” But he loosened his tie, his golden gaze holding hers as he slowly pulled it from his shirt.
Her heart thundered in her chest, and everywhere he’d touched—with his hands, with his mouth—throbbed with the desire to feel him. Naked against her.
So she moved to the end of the bed and onto her knees on the mattress. She did not ask or plead. She reached out and began to unbutton his shirt. She pressed a kiss on his chest for each undone button, the faint smudges of whatever lipstick she had left giving her a darkly sensual satisfaction.
When she reached the end, the buckle of his belt, she looked up at him through her eyelashes and slowly unhooked then pulled it out of the belt loops. And though she fumbled as she undid his button of his pants, faltered for a moment with the zipper, she could not seem to tear her gaze from him.
Until she spread apart the fabric of his pants and was met with the large evidence of his arousal. She sucked in a breath, feelings and sensations such a powerful cyclone in her mind she had no fully formed thoughts at all.
Only need. She tugged his boxers down so that he was free. She smoothed her hand down the silky, hard length of him. Need and satisfaction shot through her at the noise he made, a harsh sucked-in breath.
