Page 77 of Not Another Love Song

It was all of those things.

His gaze dripped across her skin, resting on her face, dancing across her stomach, focusing on her breasts and her taut nipples.

A long held note that could have been the ending, and he lifted the bow and said, “Open your legs.” And an afterthought: “Please.”

Gwen heard a thrumming in the silence. His eyes on her, begging.

She smirked. “Take off your underwear.”

Something flashed in his eyes, and then he was pushing down his boxer briefs with one hand. His cock was half-hard, growing thick.

“Now, you,” he hummed.

And slowly she unfolded herself, dropping her toes to the floor, and pulling her knees apart.

She could do this. It was just like sitting in a chair watching him play.

He placed the bow back on the violin strings. “More.”

And just as she was about to shake her head and giggle, he started playing again.

And her thighs parted.

She thought it was maybe a second movement of the first song. And maybe it started that way, but as the bow pulled across the strings she knew in her blood that he was writing this, that very moment, staring at her.

To his credit, his eyes weren’t glued to her core. He swept over her, dragging arpeggios across her breasts, tumbling triplets down her sides, and lingering legatos into her eyes.

She was flushed, and her breathing couldn’t even out. Every time she thought she had her pulse under control, her eyes would dip down his body, landing on his now fully erect cock.

He pulled the final notes, and his eyes burned into hers.

She thought maybe she should say something like “beautiful song” or “can I close my legs now?”

He placed her violin in its case, stood from his chair, and crossed to her—a slow prowl ending with him standing between her open knees, looking down, his cock straining toward her.

She kept her eyes on his, a smile breaking out across her face as she chuckled anxiously. “Good morning,” she chirped.

He lowered himself to kneel in front of her, hands sliding up her knees. His lips smiled up at her as she dipped her head to kiss him, hands settling on his shoulders.

His thumbs brushed the insides of her thighs when his tongue slipped inside of her mouth. He whispered against her lips, “Did you like your latte?”

She smiled and nodded as he kissed his way down her body, threading her fingers through his hair when he bent her knees up to her chest and began licking at her.

They showered after that.

Well, more like he offered her the shower, and never ended up leaving the bathroom.

He had one of those obnoxiously expensive showers, with the overhead rain shower nozzle and the compartments and the money just oozing out of it.

“I don’t have anything…female. I’m sorry,” he said while searching under the sink for something other than Head and Shoulders. And Gwen smiled at the back of his head, realizing that that meant he didn’t have a lot of females using his shower.

“It’s okay. Can I use your stuff?”

He sighed, hesitating. “Yeah…” Gwen’s chest clenched at his tone, like he didn’t really want her in his things. “But then you won’t smell like you,” he muttered, still searching the depths of his cabinets.

She beamed at him even though he couldn’t see. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and she looked…ridiculous, really.

“But I’ll smell like you,” she offered.

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