Page 50 of Sinful Escape

His sexy briefs were gunmetal gray, finished with a thick white elastic band. The bulge threatening to burst the constraint was enormous. The man who’d taken my breath away with just his shirt off now had me fighting to breathe. He hooked his thumbs into the elastic, and with his eyes on me, lowered them inch by inch.

The defined V muscle at his groin caught my attention first, like the lead act in what promised to be an incredible show. Luca pulled the elastic forward. His giant rod bounced out and pointed right at me. He lowered his underwear slowly, drawing out the grand reveal like an expert. My heart thundered and my knees weakened. If he kept this up, I’d pass out any second.

He dropped his briefs to his ankles and kicked them aside.

Holy fuck. Luca, my sexy French horse master, was totally naked.

My heart slammed into my chest.

My eyes hit party mode, jiving from one incredible facet of his body to another. His mesmerizing blue eyes, his suggestive smile, his steely abs, his rock-hard cock. Every inch commanded attention. I didn’t know where to look.

Maybe those mahogany stairs had taken me to heaven.

His gaze was trained on me. It was my turn to disrobe.

A wave of uselessness gripped me. I had no idea how to undress in a sexy way. Certainly not like him. I was still wearing my socks and sneakers, for God’s sake.

Luca must’ve sensed my indecision. He strode forward, placed his hands on my hips, and kissed me. As our mouths locked together, he guided me backward.

I allowed him to take control. Anything that required no decision from me was perfect.

He lowered me to the blanket like a gentle lover would, and I tried to focus on every inch of his flesh rather than my enormous tits flopping to my sides. When he eased back, I received the most magnificent vista of my life—a close-up view of his crown jewels.

Holy smokes. Luca was well-endowed.

Not that I’d had many men to compare him with.

Actually, only one. And he no longer counted.

Luca’s cock was big. At a guess, about eight inches of solid muscle.

I’d never had the pleasure of studying a real cock, not to this extent anyway. The marble ones at the Louvre did not do it justice. This was glorious. Smooth. Silky. And sexy as hell.

As if he didn’t already have my attention, he glided his hand over his masterpiece. Right before my eyes, it grew bigger. He did it once more, then knelt on one knee at my feet. My breath caught. His swollen pink crown pointed right at me, bobbing up and down, nodding.

He swept up my left ankle, and nipping at my khaki-clad calf muscle, he curled off my shoe and tossed it aside.

Luca was quite the show pony. Everything he did commanded attention. I’d be happy to watch all day. Hell, I’d stay there ’til winter if he kept this up.

With my shoes and socks gone, he turned his attention to my cargo pants. I propped up on my elbows and watched, mesmerized as he undid my button and zipper.

I was front and center of the best show on earth. It was truly extraordinary watching Luca’s eyes, watching his hands. He was enjoying this as much as I was. He wriggled my pants down, and aiding their release, I raised my ass off the tartan.

Holy hell! I was naked. I couldn’t breathe.

For the first time in history, a smoking-hot man slowly ran his eyes over my raw flesh.

Not once had William done this. Not one fucking time.

Sure, he’d seen me dash from the shower to my towel on the odd occasion. But never with any measured attention. Never with greedy lust like Luca was demonstrating.

How did I miss the signs?

Shoving the ill-timed agony aside, I absorbed the rapture on Luca’s face. The bulge and flex of his muscles. The patch of red hair above his cock. The size of his manhood.

I was young again. Alive.

Oh, so alive.

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