Page 41 of Savage Betrayal

My cock twitches at the salacious thought, and I turn my eyes purposefully to the mirror above my sink. Lathering my neck, I shave a precise line, leaving the shadow of a beard on my jaw and chin but shaving my throat clean.

As I rinse my razor, the shower water stops, drawing my eyes to the scene behind me. I watch the reflection as Tia rings out her long hair, then steps around the glass barrier of the shower to collect her towel from its rack.

She tips her head to the side, letting her hair fall over her shoulder so she can towel it dry, leaving her creamy skin wet and glistening. Straightening, she then wraps the towel around her waist, tucking the corner between her breasts in a makeshift dress.

Then, as if sensing my gaze, her eyes shift to meet mine in the mirror. A soft rose colors her cheeks, and she smiles at me. I return the gesture, caught in the act of admiring her body. Returning my focus to the task at hand, I only see her padding from the bathroom out of the corner of my eye.

I take a quick shower, during which time Tia comes back in to dry and style her hair. Still wearing her towel, she offers up the perfect view of her long legs beneath the hem. Her makeup seems to take hardly any time at all as I towel off and finger-comb some styling gel into my hair.

Returning to the bedroom, I pull out a fresh suit and shirt. Tia follows a moment later, stepping into our expansive shared closet to search through the dresses. “How fancy should I be?” she asks. “Is this a formal dinner party? Or just… dinner?”

“Just dinner, I believe.” Mayor Romney didn’t say anything about how many guests would be coming tonight, but the invitation seemed rather impromptu.

Tia comes into the bedroom a moment later carrying a black dress still on its hanger. Laying it out on the bed and setting a pair of heels beneath it, she then goes to her drawers. I’m shrugging into my shirt when her towel comes off.

And I can’t help myself.

I look.

With her hair done up in a loose braid and her makeup soft and natural, Tia’s at her most stunning, her perfect figure making me ache to be close to her. And as she bends to step into her black lace panties, I almost groan with appreciation.

Tearing my eyes from her as she straightens, I focus intently on buttoning my shirt. Then I grab the crimson paisley tie I laid out and turn to the mirror to tie it. Tia’s temporary dressing station at the bed happens to be right in line with the floor-length mirror I’m using. Once again, my attention strays as she unhooks the dress from its hanger and steps into the soft, stretchy fabric.

She pulls it slowly up her body, slipping one arm into its capped sleeve, then the other. Her eyes flick up to meet mine in the mirror, once more catching my wandering gaze. And this time, a coy smile stretches across her lips.

“Like anything you see?” she teases.

I turn to face her with a smile, and she allows me a full view of the black tea-length dress’s modest front. Then she turns to reveal its low-scooping back with several strings of gems hanging in soft arcs from one side of the open back to the other.

I release a low, appreciative whistle. “I do,” I confess, my smile broadening. “And I might just want to take you home with me later.”

“We’re home now,” she points out playfully, slowly lifting the skirt of her dress to give me another peek of her sexy black lingerie.

Christ, woman. Suddenly, my collar feels too tight—as do my slacks—and I close the distance between us in three long strides, unable to resist any longer. Wrapping one arm around the small of her back, I cradle her head as I bring our lips together in a passionate kiss.

Tia gasps, her lips parting from my unexpected assault, and my tongue strokes between her teeth, tasting her warm honey lips. After a momentary pause, Tia returns the kiss with equal verve, her fingers wrapping around the collar of my shirt as he keeps our lips firmly joined.

Holding her against my body, I relish the feel of her soft breasts pressed against my chest. She’s not wearing a bra because of the dress’s low back, and I can feel it. The way her nipples tighten, pressing adamantly into my shirt and skin.

Consumed by her beauty, I spin Tia, turning her to face away from me and pulling her against my chest as I shift until we’re both facing the floor-length mirror. Her eyes shine with lust, their dark depths captivating me.

I brush her thick braid over one shoulder, and Tia tips her head as I brush the lobe of her ear with my lips.

“Watch,” I command softly, holding her gaze as I work my way down the curve of her neck and across her shoulder.

And with one arm encircling her waist, I let my other hand travel down her body and along her thigh. Tia’s breaths quicken as my fingers find the hem of her dress, and I slowly start to make my way back up the inside of her thigh.

One delicate hand reaches up to tangle into my curls. The other rests on top of my hand at her waist, and when I reach the peak of her thighs, her fingers tighten instinctually. She gasps, her body melting against mine as I run my fingers over the soft lace of her panties.

Heat radiates from her, and as I push the fabric aside, my cock throbs to find her already wet and needy. Never breaking eye contact, I stroke my fingers between her folds. Excitement colors her cheeks as Tia starts to pant, her lips parting slightly in the sexiest look of lusty pleasure.

And as I press two fingers inside her slick entrance, she starts to tremble.

“You like that, bella mia?” I breathe against her skin, raising goosebumps beneath my lips.

“Yes,” she gasps, her gaze smoldering.

She moans, her eyelids sinking and her head falling back against my shoulder as I finger her more adamantly, brushing her clit with my palm at the same time.

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