I even bought a pair of crotchless panties to go with the nightie. The spaghetti straps are tied so all Edgar has to do is tug and the luxurious material will slide down my body…caressing my bare skin…
I start feeling hot and flushed just thinking about it.
When I come out of the bathroom, Edgar’s on the bed, topless like he too is aware we could be doing more than just sleeping tonight. I smile with anticipation until I notice he’s frowning at the tablet in his large hand. Business?
He said I wasn’t relocating, but how would that work for him? I can’t imagine having him only on weekends because he has to be in Louisiana all the time. But his job is obviously important as well.
We should probably talk about it in detail soon. Our situation isn’t something that’s going to be resolved with one person carrying all the burden. But not tonight. Not when I’m in the sexiest nightie I own.
“Hey,” I say as I climb on the bed next to him. “Anything wrong?”
“Nothing. Just a minor report. I’m done.”
He puts the tablet away on the stand on his side, his gaze roaming over me, head to toe and back. His eyes are moving slower with each passing moment, then finally stop at the knots on my shoulder straps.
I wait, my heart hammering. It’s critically important that he likes what he sees. Now I wish I’d spent more time looking over what was available at the lingerie boutique. I might’ve found something better. This need for approval from a specific person is unfamiliar and slightly uncomfortable. I pride myself on being able to pull off any look I want, and I didn’t care too much as long as I could project the image and mood I wanted.
Edgar finally places a finger under one of the knots. “Do these come undone?”
My mouth is too dry. So I nod instead.
A smile slowly spreads over his gorgeous face. It isn’t one of his somber smiles. It’s light and brilliant, full of wickedness and heat.
The impact hits me like half a bottle of tequila. I feel nearly dizzy—drunk. How can he do this to me, so easily, so effortlessly?
My heart knocks against my ribs harder. I lick my lips…
…and his mouth takes mine, his hot hand cradling the back of my head. He’s kissing me like he can’t wait—that he’s been waiting for too long.
I kiss him back, our tongues sliding against each other. My God, the man tastes delicious—dark and decadent, with a hint of honey and something that’s uniquely Edgar.
My eager lips locked on to his, I run my hands along his bare torso. There’s such corded strength in his lean, muscled body, such need in the rapid thudding of his heart against my palm.
Heat prickles along my nerve endings, goosebumps breaking out. The flesh between my legs, already slick, throbs, like it remembers what Edgar can do to me—and how much I crave that experience again.
His mouth leaves mine. I whimper at the loss. I need more. So much more.
I reach out, trying to bring his head down again. But he moves, turning me around and positioning me in front of him, his knees spreading my thighs wide. The air on my pussy feels cool, reminding me I’m in crotchless panties. With my back against his chest, I can feel his thick, steely erection pressing against my ass.
“Open your eyes,” he says, his breath hot against the side of my neck.
I do. And see our reflection in the smoked mirror on the wall opposite us.
My lips are swollen and red, mouth parted. The thin material of my nightie can’t hide the outline of my pointed nipples. I look scandalously indecent with my legs apart, the pink folds glistening.
I raise my gaze and seek Edgar’s face in the mirror. Every plane is hard and stretched tight, his dark eyes even darker and hotter.
Air catches in my throat. Helplessly, I watch his lips on my neck, his large, searing hand on my breast.
“When I saw the mirrors, I thought they’d be perfect for you—to make sure you look the way you want the world to see you. But I also realized they’d be perfect for this, too.”
“Did you give it a lot of thought?” I say, trying to tease, but failing. I sound too breathless with anticipation.
“Way too much, although I tried not to, not until the doctor checked you out first.”
With his teeth, he tugs at the strap on my shoulder. It comes apart, and the triangular fabric covering one of my breasts falls forward, exposing the beaded tip to his hungry gaze. He pinches the nipple between his thumb and index finger, then rolls it gently.
Pleasure streaks all over, until my clit starts tingling. It’s one thing to feel what he’s doing to me, but something else to watch it. It seems filthier, somehow more wicked.