Page 117 of Mario
And the most dangerous.
Because the urge to do it again is a physical ache.
I shift slightly, just enough to see her face in the dim light filtering through the window.
She is different when she sleeps.
The sharp edges are gone. The guarded, wary expression she wears like armor has softened, leaving behind a face that is surprisingly vulnerable.
Beautiful.
I have always known she was beautiful. It is an objective fact, like the sky being blue, the grass being green. She is all high cheekbones, full lips, and intelligent, arresting eyes that see far too much.
But now, she is more than that.
She is exquisite.
My gaze drifts down to her body, currently sprawled half on top of me, a tangle of long limbs and soft curves.
I let my hand drift over her shoulder, down the smooth, elegant line of her back. Her skin is like silk. Warm. Alive. My touch leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake, and she shivers in her sleep, snuggling into my body more. A soft sigh escapes her lips, her body unconsciously seeking more of my touch, more of my warmth.
My cock, which should be sated, spent, and thoroughly tamed, begins to stir against her thigh.
Insatiable.
That’s what she is.
She has turned me into a teenager again. A single touch, a single sigh, and I am ready for another round.
I could wake her.
I could slide into her again, slow and deep, and feel her wake up around me.
The thought is tempting.
So very tempting.
But I don’t.
She needs sleep, and though many would call me a careless man, I am not completely without a conscience. I have worn her out. I can feel the faint tremors still running through her body from the lack of sleep and proper rest.
And selfishly, I want to savor this moment.
She is so rarely like this. Unguarded.
In the office, she is my equal. A formidable opponent. A brilliant strategist who gives as good as she gets. Our battles are fought with words and data, with clever maneuvering and strategic plays. I respect her immensely. That is part of the problem. It is impossible not to.
But here…
Here, she is not my colleague or my rival.
She is just Victoria.
A very naked and very satisfied woman who is currently sleeping in my arms.
A woman who looked me in the eye and told me she was mine.
My chest tightens at the memory.
