"You were shot?" she yells, incredulously. "How? Where?"
"With a gun...?"
"Don't be an idiot," she says and kneels on the floor in front of me and starts tugging at my clothes.
"This isn't exactly how I pictured it happening, but I can work with this, too," I say, trying to lighten the mood.
It doesn't work.
"Shut up, Antonio," she says. "Show me. I wantto see."
So I do.
I help her take off my shirt. Her eyes trace the scar, a jagged line that starts just below my right pec and runs down to my hip. She reaches out, her fingers hovering over the scar before she finally touches it. Her touch is gentle, almost reverent. "It must have been bad."
"I was lucky." I don't mention just how lucky I was, how long the surgery took to stabilize me and stop the bleeding, and how long I couldn't do anything but lie in bed.
She looks up at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "What happened?"
"It's a long story," I say, trying to avoid the topic. "And not a very pleasant one."
"I have a feeling you're not always a very pleasant person," she teases, her lips curving into a small smile.
And there it is. That fire in her again. The spark that made me notice her in the ballroom.
"Guilty as charged," I say, smiling back.
"Good," she says. "I don't like pleasant people. They're insufferable."
Her gaze drops back to my scar. She leans forward and presses her lips to it. The touch is so light, so gentle, it sends a shiver down my spine. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. The touch of her lips on my skin is electric.
I have been with a lot of women. But none of them have ever made me feel like this. Seen. Like the scar isn't a mark ofweakness, but just a part of me. A story. And she wants to hear it.
I run my fingers through her hair, the silky strands slipping through them. "You're a very unusual woman, Elsa."
"You're a very unusual man, Antonio," she murmurs, her lips still moving along my skin.
She moves down, her fingers moving to the button on my pants. My cock, rock-hard again, twitches with anticipation. She looks up at me, her eyes dark with desire, her lips slightly parted.
She unzips my pants and reaches in to wrap her fingers around my cock, making me groan. Elsa pulls it out, and a slow smile of satisfaction spreads across her face.
"Well, that's a pleasant surprise," she purrs. She looks up at me. "Is this a little more what you were picturing?"
"Definitely," I say, my voice hoarse.
She leans forward, her tongue darting out to lick the tip. I moan, my hips bucking. She takes me into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head. I groan, my fingers tightening in her hair as she takes me deeper. The warmth of her mouth, the feel of her tongue on my cock, it's intoxicating.
She starts to move, her head bobbing up and down, her lips tight around me. I watch her, mesmerized. Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders, her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are closed in concentration. She's beautiful.
A goddess. And she's going to be the death of me.
The little moans she's making in her throat are so fucking sexy, like she’s enjoying this as much as I am. She takes me deep, her throat constricting around the head of my cock, and I see stars.
For a second, I tighten my hand in her hair, keeping her right there, just there. When she makes a little swallowing motion with her throat, I have to fight the urge to fuck her mouth, to take control.
But I don't.
I let her set the pace. And it's exquisite torture. She's driving me crazy, her mouth working its magic, her hands roaming my body, exploring every inch of me.
