The air in the bedroom was heavy, thick with the scent of expensive linen and the unspoken, electric tension of a betrayal occurring mere feet away from a sleeping man. The only light came from the soft, amber glow of a single lamp, casting long, dancing shadows against the walls.
Rex didn't waste time with gentleness. He had Elizabeth pressed against the edge of the large mahogany bed, his hands moving with a predatory ownership.
He reached down, his large, calloused hands sinking deep into the soft, rounded flesh of her ass, squeezing with a bruising intensity that would have made a lesser woman wince. But Elizabeth didn't wince; she arched into him, a low, hungry moan vibrating in her throat.
Her fingers were already working, sliding down to the massive, pulsing bulge in his trousers, stroking the thick, heavy length of him with a rhythmic, desperate urgency that mirrored her own rising heat.
