Page 95 of King of Obsession

That’s when he turned to me, eyes locking on mine.

Strangely enough, there was no shame.

Not with him.

How?I’d no idea, but Alessio Calibrese was the one man who made me feel so fuckin’ beautiful in so long.

With him, I always felt so needed, so seen, not owned nor controlled, but adored.

His gaze flicked to where my hand lay on the apex of my thighs. He trailed his eyes over my back, ass, my tits, and back to my face.

‘You yearning?’ he growled, so raw, it sent shivers all over my skin and pebbled tits.

I nodded, mouth parted, not trusting my voice.

‘You want me to make you cum?’ he rasped.

I took a shaky breath and jerked my head once more.

He bit his lip, and for a moment, I thought he’d walk away to my everlasting mortification.

Instead, his eyes smoked out, and he stepped into the small space.

He still had no shirt on, and his chest gleamed with sweat and dirt from our day spent in the garden and working the land.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his defined abs and how his muscles rippled with every movement. He was like an opus of masculine beauty, each sculpted line perfect and captivating.

The scent of his sweat mixed with the musky cologne he wore was intoxicating, filling my senses and heightening my desire.

My eyes drank him in like a thirsty traveler at an oasis, savoring the sight of his chiseled physique that spoke of strength and passion. Every hard edge and dip was a masterpiece, a work of art I longed to explore with my fingertips.

He strode to me, kicking off his boots and socks and throwing them outside.

In seconds, he loomed over me from the rear, his golden mane falling over his eyes, chest heaving.

Muscled and sinewed arms around me.

My breath hitched, my knees weakened, and my mouth went dry in anticipation.

First, he used the shower jets to wash his hands.

All the while, his torso hit my spine, his skin sliding over me, sending waves of need all over me.

With a grunt, he lowered his head to me from behind.

Pressing those sensual lips on my nape.

It galvanized me, and I turned, my grasp sinking into his mane.

His mouth met mine for a lush, scorching kiss.

Lips firm, sucking, biting, pulling.

When his veined, sinewed, heated hand cupped my tit, I lost purchase of his mouth as pure desire arced through me.

My head rested on his shoulder, panting, arms around his corded neck, holding on for dear life.

When he flicked my nipple and pinched it, making me moan.

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