He sat back on his heels and let his eyes take in the eerily strange yet wholly satisfying image of Ainsley in his bed, restrained by handcuffs. He’d dreamed it so many times he almost pinched himself to be assured of his wakefulness. He breathed deep and a citrus scent filled his nostrils. Ainsley had smelled like oranges and limes for as long as he could remember. Now his nose picked out another scent. The scent of her arousal. His cock twitched painfully as he glanced down at her legs. Her thighs were parted slightly, enough that he wanted to burrow between them and push them farther apart so he could bury his face in her pussy. Lust spiked hard within him and, unable to control himself any longer, he cupped one breast in his palm. She sucked in a breath, the sharp sound breaking him free of his reverie. He tested the weight of the firm flesh, raking his thumb over the stiff nipple. Her skin felt like the softest velvet. Her body rippled, the undulating movement letting him know she’d pressed her thighs together.
