The heavy oak doors of the estate library groaned as Liza pushed them open. The room was bathed in the amber glow of a dying fire and smelled of old leather and Julian's cologne. She was dressed in a silk slip dress that felt like water against her skin. Every step she took made the fabric rub against her sensitive peaks, a constant, teasing reminder of why she was there.
She heard the click of his boots on the hardwood before she saw him. Julian emerged from the shadows, discarding his jacket. He unbuttoned his cuffs, his gaze locked on her with a terrifying intensity. "Down", he commanded. The word was a physical weight. Liza sank to the Persian rug, the rough wool contrasting with the smoothness of her skin.
She looked up at him, her lips parted, her breath coming in shallow, jagged hitches. He stood over her, a mountain of a man, his presence radiating a heat that made her feel faint. He reached down, his large hand cupping her cheek, his thumb dragging slowly across her lower lip until she whimpered and tried to catch his finger in her mouth. "Not yet", he growled, his voice a low vibration that thrummed through her entire body.