Page 80 of Letters From Victor

Her breathing grew heavy, each rise and fall of her chest an invitation. “I’m glad you approve,” she said, voice tinged with breathless excitement.

I moved my hands slowly down the curves of her sides until they rested on her hips, then pulled her closer so she could feel the exact effect she was having on me.

“It would take a very good man to leave such a masterpiece intact,” I said softly as I kissed back up toward one exposed shoulder.

She laughed—a light, musical sound that dissolved into a moan when I took her tender flesh between my teeth. “Are you a good man?”

I rounded behind her and eased down the zipper at her back. “No, I’m not.”

The dress loosened and slid down her body, like honey trickling over porcelain. Her back was a long, supple line of muscle and bone. I kissed along her spine as it curved like a swan’s neck, each vertebra a delicate pearl in an unbroken string.

She turned to face me, wearing nothing but her heels and a dress pooled at her feet.

“You didn’t tell me you weren’t wearing any silks.”

“They mess up the lines.” She stepped out of the pool of fabric. “You’re certainly taking your time,” she said with a teasing lilt. “I thought you were starving.”

“Oh, I am,” I replied, urgently shrugging off my jacket and unbuttoning my shirt collar. “Show me your new bedroom, and I promise you, darling, I’ll devour you whole.”

Barbara extended her hand, and I took it, the delicate bones of her fingers intertwining with mine. She led me down the narrow hallway, each glance over her shoulder a spark to tinder.

We reached the bedroom door, and she paused, turning to face me. Her eyes were a stormy blue, churning with emotion and desire. Without a word, she pulled me into a kiss, fierce and demanding. Her naked body pressed against my semi-clothed form, creating a delicious contradiction of textures andtemperatures. I kissed her back with equal fervor, hands roving over the curves I had spent the last several weeks craving.

She broke the kiss abruptly and pushed the door open. The room was modest but cozy, with a large bed dominating the center. Soft moonlight filtered through sheer curtains, casting a silvery glow over the white linens and creating deep shadows in the corners.

Barbara walked to the edge of the bed and turned to face me. Her silhouette was art in motion, every curve etched in half-light. I stood in the doorway, momentarily transfixed.

Finally, I stalked over to her, pulling her close and reveling in the sensation of her hardened nipples pressing against my chest through the thin fabric of my shirt. She slid her hands around my back, then up to my shoulders, urgently gripping. I kissed her again, more hungrily this time, our lips and tongues clashing like a sudden summer storm.

Barbara broke the kiss and pushed me down onto the bed with unexpected force. I landed on my back, propping myself on my elbows to watch her. She stood over me, a goddess in nothing but heels, breathing heavily.

“I think you’re the one who’s starving, darling,” I teased.

She put one knee on the bed, then the other, crawling towards me with the predatory grace of a panther. Her hands found my belt buckle and worked it free, then tugged at the waistband of my trousers. I lifted my hips to help her, and she slid them down, along with my shorts, in one swift pull.

She paused for a moment, taking in the sight of me, her eyes alight with lust and affection. Then she lowered herself, kissing a trail up my thigh, her breath hot against my skin.

“Freedom suits you, my dear,” I mused.

She looked up at me through her thick lashes and licked her lips. “It would take a very good woman to resist you right now,” she said, echoing my statement from earlier.

I smirked. “Are you a good woman?”

Her eyes glinted. “No, I’m not.”

I grabbed her by the hips and swiftly rolled us over so that she lay beneath me. “You’re wrong.” I trailed my hand down her side, over the smoothness of her skin and the sharp jut of her hip bone. She arched her back, pressing herself closer to me. “You’re an amazing woman, and you make me want to be a better man.” Bending down, I took one of her nipples into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it before biting gently.

She gasped and tangled her fingers in my hair, pulling me tighter against her.

“You’re perfection, and you give me something to strive for. That’s why I call you ‘angel.’ But…” I slid my hand between her legs and parted her with a single finger. She was already soaked. “Even angels fall. And even good girls can be so very naughty.”

Barbara’s breath caught in her throat as I slid a finger inside her—hot and tight, like a velvet glove. I pumped in and out of her, slowly, deliberately. Her back arched, and she let out a soft, helpless moan that sent a surge of heat through my entire body. Her face contorted with pleasure, every muscle tensing and releasing like waves crashing against the shore.

“Fall for me, my angel,” I whispered into her ear as I added a second finger. She gripped me like a vise. “Fall to earth just for tonight.”

Her eyes fluttered open, dazed with lust and need.

I kissed down the length of her body with measured slowness—grazing my lips over sternum, then ribcage, tracing circles with my tongue around the taut skin of her abdomen.

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