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“Only if you get disobedient.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

He smiles in that knowing way and releases my hands.

I sit up enough to do away with my jacket. Silk camisole. Bra.

He helps me out of my skirt. Panties. Shoes.

He looks down at me like it’s the first time.

I guess, in a way, it is.

This is the first time we’re honest about who we are.

What’s more intimate than that?

He does away with his tie and tosses it on the bed. Then a condom packet from his pocket.

Then it’s the jacket, shirt, belt, shoes, socks, slacks.

Boxers.

I study the lines of his body the way he studies mine. The short, dark hair. The intense eyes. The soft pink lips. The strong jaw.

Those shoulders, the perfect width for his frame. The chiseled chest and waist.

Those narrow hips.

The happy trail leading my gaze all the way to his hard cock.

And then lower. The strong thighs and calves. The steady feet.

God, he’s so fucking beautiful.

I want all of him.

Every inch of him against every inch of me.

I want to look at him and touch him and taste him and tease him for the rest of my life.

Or the rest of his, anyway.

He stays strong and still and patient, waiting for me to ask for more.

I soak up every delicious second. Linger in that in-between space. Where we’re all anticipation and need.

Finally, I relent. “Please.”

His fingers go to my feet. Then it’s his hands around my ankles.

He pulls me to the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees between my legs.

My thighs shake with anticipation. He’s good at this. And even though I had him last week, I need him again.

I need him more, now that I remember how fucking good he feels.

His lips find the inside of my ankle. A soft kiss. Then a little harder. A little higher.