Feeling restless inside, images from that unhealthy night spontaneously surfaced in his mind.
In the bathtub, the woman’s body was fair and voluptuous, much fuller than three years ago. The feeling under his palms was fleshy and bouncy.
Especially those two parts, they seemed to have grown much larger than they were three years ago.
Suppressing the throbbing in his heart, he wrapped the woman in a bath towel and carried her back to his large bed.
She had drunk too much alcohol, fiercely intoxicated, unaware even as he stripped her clothes to bathe her.
Although she had left, her clothes were still kept in the room on the fourth floor, a room that exclusively belonged to her.
Occasionally, he would sleep in the bed in that room.
He took the bathrobe she had once worn, unwrapped the bath towel, and when the woman’s flawless body appeared before his eyes, he couldn’t help but raise his hand, his distinct knuckles touching her plump lips.
Gently caressing, and then, his own lips pressed down too.
The soft feeling, smooth like velvet.
He intended to only kiss her lips, but this woman, clearly unconscious from drunkenness, was still murmuring, Nathan Moore... don’t take advantage of me...
Alright, since she defined him like that in her dreams, he would be remiss not to do something worthy of her dreamscape.
So, his tongue slipped into her mouth, stirring her up, dancing together.
Her lips were as pleasant as he remembered, though he had only kissed them once before.
That feeling was wonderful, so wonderful it haunted his days and nights.
His thin lips traced along her earlobe, down her neck, stopping finally at his favorite spot.
Suck. Lick. Envelop. He reserved his greatest tenderness for that place.
The drunken woman, although asleep, was restless, occasionally mumbling in her sleep. Each sound was torture for him, each time a test...
Because she kept calling his name, Nathan Moore...
The last line of defense in his heart completely collapsed, his handsome face buried in his favorite place, gently, reluctantly rubbing back and forth. His distinct fingers unconsciously fell on himself, fantasizing it was her warmth...
For thirty-one years, he first did things he once despised, but after doing so, a feeling called satisfaction burgeoned within him.
With his face buried in her shoulder, he gasped, his lips curling into a satisfied grin.
His passionate desolation was too overflowing, staining the sheets and his fingers. At the light scar on her forehead, already faded, he gently pressed a kiss before heading to the bathroom for a shower.
A simple shower, he stood under the spray for a full half hour, because... he was reminded again of her beauty.
Regretting, his fingers hesitated at that spot, wondering if it was still as tight and lovely as it was three years ago...
As if thirty-some years of accumulated passion burst forth at that moment, so he again...
He stumbled as Titus Zane retracted his leg, thankfully Nathan Moore’s long legs and feet kept him from appearing abnormal.
Just as he was withdrawing his long leg and putting on his leather shoes, that long leg stretched out again from under the table.
Looking up at the woman across, Titus Zane was still helping Jon with the food, but the slightly raised eyebrows and lifted lips did not seem angered by his inappropriate behavior, rather they seemed much more pleased.
The toe that slipped into the leather shoe was withdrawn and stretched forward again carefully, like an explorer.
When he touched that enticing long leg, Nathan Moore silently sighed in his heart, his lips forming a faint smile, although outwardly everything seemed normal.
Suddenly, his handsome brow furrowed, the sensation under his foot changed?