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She knew bodies; it was her job to after all.
His was seriously beautiful—his abdomen, which she had already gauged as flat was toned and taut, his chest was so powerful and defined she was reminded of a huge butterfly spreading its wings. His arms were muscled, though long and slim, but she frowned at the dark bruise on his rib cage. She was about to ask what had happened but then saved herself from another rebuff and delivered an instruction instead.
‘Turn around,’ she said, and blinked at herself, finding it a little odd that she’d dared to ask, but there was a thrill when he obliged.
His back was like art; she could see the muscles beneath the white skin, and her colleagues would have fainted in pleasure just to see this.
She watched as he removed the rest of his clothing and then when he turned and she saw him naked she didn’t pretend not to look, she just stared at his growing erection, as dangerous and as beautiful as him, rising from straight black pubic hair, and for tonight this pleasure was hers.
‘Get undressed,’ he said, and he took her hand and pulled her to a stand, but instead of leaving her there he held her and her exposed skin was on fire against him. She pressed her cheek against his chest and, as direct as he was, she inhaled him, feeling him under her hands. She ran her hands over his hips and to his buttocks and she wanted her fingers on his spine.
Later.
Her eyes still glittered, but now it was with the pleasure to come, and when he released her she started to undo her ivory wrap.
‘Wait.’
He went and lay on the bed and stretched out that long body and then nodded for her to continue.
She had a little trouble with the knot, only because she was watching him and feeling his eyes carefully take in any flesh she exposed. She was too small to worry with a bra but her breasts felt heavy and her nipples were swollen and jutting out of her pale leotard.
She went to take down her skirt.
‘Slowly,’ Daniil said, and then he gave the same instruction she had. ‘Turn around.’
Libby obliged.
First she kicked off her shoes and then rolled the skirt down over her hips, bent and took off her skirt, and heard his low moan of approval and knew he was stroking himself.
She stood and lowered one strap of her leotard and fought not to turn around.
She lowered the other one and slid it down past her shaking thighs and then bent to take the leotard over her feet. Without instruction, she held that position a little longer than necessary before coming back to a stand.
‘Turn around.’
Naked, she stood and she loved the examination of his eyes, over her tiny bust, down her stomach and to her small blond mound.
Yes, she hadn’t waxed in a while but, thank God, she’d shaved her legs that morning. Then she stood, legs a little crossed and one ugly foot on top of the other as his eyes went there.
‘I love your feet,’ he said. ‘You know pain.’
‘Is that what you’re into?’ Libby swallowed.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m just saying I like it that you persisted. Don’t be embarrassed by them.’
‘Phew.’
‘Worried I was going to spank you?’
‘No.’
Technically, Libby Tennent lied.
In truth, he could put her over his knee this minute and she’d be delighted, and that worried her because she’d never thought like that in her life.
Yes, she was most unlike herself tonight.
And yet, when he called her over, when he said, ‘Come here,’ she was more herself than she had ever allowed herself to be, for she did as she wanted and went easily to him.
She climbed onto the bed but now she did not await instruction or summons. She knelt over him and kissed him, and he went to move his head but, no, she persisted, for it was her turn to kiss him now.
His lips were relaxed and accepting and she caressed them with hers, slipping in her tongue between them to get the lovely soft taste as his fingers took care of the ache in her breasts.
Usually Daniil did not care to linger, but tonight he dared to.
It was a night of firsts for both of them—for Libby it was a night of pure self-indulgence, for Daniil a brief break from resistance. Tonight he let himself feel—the softness of her lips and the breath that was sweet, the moans of her pleasure just from his taste and the soft shape of her breast that warmed and swelled to his palm.
Yes, it was a night of indulgence. Her lips never left his as she moved over him, sat naked on his stomach and kissed him more deeply. His hands left her breasts and slid down her waist but their ache was soon sated as he moved her higher and, pulling her down, took one breast in his mouth.
