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Her hands fly to the sash of her robe and she tugs at the unraveling thread of my restraint as she works to untie the bow.
I lock eyes with her, my jaw aching under my relentless clenching. Don’t look down.
She slows her movements, and my peripheral vision taunts me with the sight of her bare shoulders and the start of her cleavage as she slips the top of the robe off.
In a particularly devious move, she hands me the robe instead of letting it fall to the floor.
My fingers grip the material like a lifeline as I will my eyes to remain on her face.
The air crackles between us, my blood rushing in my ears.
She hasn’t moved. The seconds turn into minutes, and I quickly realize she’s content to wait as long as it takes for me to break. And after months of berating myself over fantasies of the innocent flower in front of me, my mind is rebelling. In the wake of my self-imposed Kyra diet, I’m helpless against my craving for her.
The rising and falling of her chest draws my gaze lower and lower, and before I know it, my eyes are devouring her form.
A delicate black satin negligee covers her heavenly curves and I would be embarrassed about the choked groan that escapes me, but I’m too stuck on the sight of her pebbled nipples.
“Do it,” she says breathily, tearing my gaze from her full breasts. When my brow furrows, she smiles like the cat that got the cream. “Ruin me.”
All reason falls away when she practically offers her body to me.
If she’d been naked, I would have come in my pants like a horny teenager. As it is, my cock is straining against my slacks, desperate to be inside her warmth. Dying to claim her.
“Fuck.” It’s the only word I have.
My knuckles turn white as I twist the robe in my hands to stop myself from ripping the material from her body. She takes a step toward me and my mouth waters as one of the delicate straps falls part of the way down her arm.
I retreat and throw up a palm as a dangerous thought comes to mind. “You better be wearing panties.”
“And if I’m not?” she asks, her tongue darting out to wet the lip I so want to ravage.
“Are you trying to kill me?”
She reaches out, tentatively this time, and I toss the robe, welcoming her grasp.
I yank her forward, catching her around the waist when she stumbles in her high shoes. I don’t waste the opportunity, pulling her chest flush with mine. The only thing that would make this better is if we were both naked, so I could indulge in her soft skin and the brush of her hard nipples against my chest.
“Will you come out there with me?” She smirks, and I close my eyes and breathe through her double entendre.
I don’t have the strength to hold back anymore. One fucking nightie and I’m weak at the knees. This woman could end me.
“How the fuck do you expect me not to remove the eyes of every person out there?” Even as I say it, I can’t deny the thrill I get from the idea of displaying her perfect body. Making clear to them what’s mine, and every devastating part of her that’s not theirs.
Something in my mind snaps into place and I’m helpless to walk it back. “If we’re doing this,” I say, grabbing the tablet off the dresser, “we’re doing it my way.”
When she doesn’t answer, I peer over at her and there’s a fire burning in her eyes.
“However you want me,” she agrees. My cock twitches at the thought.
“And no one sees your cunt but me,” I say simply.
She swallows loudly. “No one but you,” she confirms.
I find her profile on the tablet, bringing up her limits and kink list, pretending to read through it like I don’t already know it off by heart by now. I opened it a few days after she started at Verus, assuming Sutton had granted me access, but I’m forced to reconsider when I meet Kyra’s heated stare.
“What do you want me to call you?” she asks, surprising me.
“I don’t expect you to use honorifics with me, dolcezza. My name from your lips is better than any sir you could deliver.”
