His Weight Presses Her Down On The Bed

He walks in like he owns the place. Which, of course, he does.

I am again struck by his masculine beauty. He could've been a model or a movie star, with a face like his. If there was any fairness in the world, he would've been short or had some other imperfection to offset that face.

His body is tall and muscular, perfectly proportioned. I remember what it feels like to have him inside me, and I feel an unwelcome jolt of arousal.

He's again wearing trousers and a T-shirt. A grey one this time. He seems to favour simple clothing, and he's smart to do so. His looks don't need any enhancement.

He smiles at me. It's his fallen angel smile—dark and seductive at the same time."Emmy."

Her heart is pounding in her chest as he stops next to her and lifts his hand to stroke her hair.

The way he's touching her hair is oddly relaxing.