Elias Kane lay on his side on the carpet, waiting for what felt like forever without detecting any movement from Giselle Frost. After a moment of hesitation, he pretended to be too nervous and flustered, twisting his body around until he was lying flat on his back.
His fair abdomen was exposed to the air like that, without a trace of extra fat, soft and tender as a block of tofu, even his navel clean and slightly indented. The tension had brought out a fine layer of sweat across his whole body, which gathered into a single drop that rolled right into that small navel.
The scene was seductive enough on its own, especially the pose—like a puppy acting spoiled in front of its owner, baring its soft belly and waiting for a touch.
