Chapter 49

The night air was cool against our skin as we left the patio behind, the remnants of wine and laughter lingering between us. The soft glow of the house lights illuminated Monique’s face, her eyes dark with anticipation as she took my hand and pulled me toward the bedroom.

She walked ahead of me, but only just, letting her hips sway more than necessary, fully aware that I was watching.

I tightened my grip on her fingers. “You enjoy torturing me, don’t you?”

She turned her head slightly, flashing a wicked grin. “A little.”

With deliberate slowness, she reached for the hem of her sweater and pulled it up over her head, letting it drop to the floor behind her. The creamy skin of her bare back was revealed first, then the soft curve of her breasts as she turned just enough to tease me with the view.

I inhaled sharply, my body already responding, my good hand twitching with the need to touch her.

“You are a work of art,” I murmured, stepping closer, but before I could claim her, she took another step back, leading me further toward the bed.

She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her leggings and shimmied them down, leaving herself completely bare in the dim glow of the bedroom.

“Come here,” I said, my voice rougher than I expected.

She obeyed, closing the space between us, her hands moving to my shirt, undoing each button with agonizing slowness. She peeled the fabric away, pressing warm kisses to my chest, her lips trailing lower as she undid my belt.

I groaned when she freed me, but before she could take things further, I caught her chin, tilting her head back up to meet my gaze.

“Not yet,” I whispered. “Tonight is about you first.”

She shivered at my words, letting me guide her back onto the bed, her body yielding beneath mine as I pressed my lips to every inch of her skin.

With my good hand, I explored her, learning what made her breath hitch, what made her whimper, what made her lose herself completely. My lips followed, tracing soft paths down her stomach, over the delicate curve of her hips, and lower still.

She arched against me, her hands twisting in the sheets, her breathless moans filling the room as I brought her to the edge, then over it—once, twice, then again, until she was trembling, her skin damp with sweat, her voice hoarse from calling my name.

Only when she was completely undone, when she was still catching her breath, did I move to join her fully.

She pulled me close, her fingers tangling in my hair, her lips seeking mine with a desperate hunger.

“Now,” she whispered against my mouth. “I need you.”

Monique lay beneath me, her skin flushed, her breath coming in uneven gasps, her body still trembling from the waves of pleasure I had just given her. The sight of her—hair tousled across the pillows, lips swollen from our kisses, her chest rising and falling in the dim glow of the bedside lamp—was enough to make my own control waver.