“This is all your fault, Tinkerbell. You and your text messages. Sharon didn’t see anything. I was sitting down the whole time,” I explained, sounding amused but firm. Then I pushed myself off the desk and stalked toward her like a big cat who had just laid eyes on a lovely gazelle.
She froze in the middle of my office, her breathing becoming erratic. I could see her arousal in the way her breasts heaved and pressed against the demure shirt. The way her knees trembled and how she rubbed her sweaty palms on her skirt.
I sniffed the air like an animal might, and she gulped.
“Where’s our Little Pearl?” I asked her with a lascivious edge as I circled her. I stopped right behind her and slowly leaned against her back. Her wavy auburn hair tickled my face, and the scent of coconut surrounded me. There was nothing better than the scent of the woman who had pulled my soul out of my body.
“My mother is with her; she’s staying over tonight. Tomorrow we’re having the barbecue with everyone, remember? I told her I was just going to come over here and see how things were going…” She stopped talking when I gave her hips a possessive squeeze. I pressed my hips against her ass and dragged the tip of my nose along the curve of her neck.
“I can’t wait to get home to her.” I missed my daughter. I missed holding her when I had to spend so many hours in the office. I’d often have Selene send me pictures or videos of her doing weird stuff like chomping on her little feet. “Just don’t say anything more about your mother or it’ll all go to shit down there.”
“Oh, I think everything’s going really well down there. The corporal is saluting. He’s so polite, you know…” Selene had given my cock a nickname after Nicole was born. She was trying to eliminate any sort of vulgar language from her vocabulary because she didn’t want Nicole to pick it up.
“This weird kink you have of addressing my cock by his rank is disturbing,” I murmured into her ear. She giggled and ground her ass against me. I let out a rough moan and licked her neck until her head fell back against my chest. Right where it belonged.
Where it would always be.
“Take your clothes off, Babygirl,” I said in a low voice before retreating to the desk and leaning comfortably against it as I waited for her to do as I said. A flare of desire lit up her blue eyes, and I grinned smugly at the effect I still had on her.
Her hands moved up to the collar of her shirt, and she began to gently undo each of the buttons.
“Ready to play, Mr. Keller?” Her sweet, sensual voice was sufficient to shake my self-control. I drummed my fingers on the wooden surface of the desk as I tracked her every movement. Every curve, every line.
Selene let her shirt fall to the floor before moving on to her skirt.
She slid the side zipper down, and I watched as the black fabric skimmed her long legs on its way down.
Now, she wore just her lingerie and a pair of high heels, and I couldn’t catch my breath.
A matching set in white lace with a pair of thigh-highs in the same color. That was all that stood between her flesh and my hungry desires.
Her bra barely contained her flourishing curves, and only a microscopic triangle of fabric concealed her smooth pussy from me.
Every part of me longed to touch, lick, and suck every inch of her body.
How many times had I fucked her?
How often had I seen that body naked?
I knew her by heart, every inch, and yet I stared at her nipples beneath the snow-white fabric like I’d never encountered tits before.
She was perfect.
A priceless pearl, luminous and lovingly shaped as any sculpture.
“You’re a work of art,” I blurted out. It wasn’t the first time I’d thought something like that, but it was the first time I’d said it aloud to her. My compliments to her were usually confined to the occasional “you’re so pretty” or “beautiful.” Nothing more.
But there was no adjective that was truly worthy of her and her perfection.
“Not true,” she said, taking on an embarrassed stance. Her cheeks were as red as two cherries, and she pressed her legs together shyly.
I loved this about her, when she would get all awkward and shy. I loved everything about her.
“It’s the truest thing I’ve ever thought or said, Tinkerbell,” I whispered, getting lost again in the warm, depthless ocean of her eyes. I felt cradled there, like a child. Like I could peel away all of my weapons, all my defenses, and simply allow myself to be what I was.
A man who had been thoroughly contaminated by a woman.
I never told her that I loved her, and she had quit expecting it from me. She knew how those cursed words hurt me and how I refused to soil our pure, singular, honest relationship with them.
