Page 55 of Restoration
It’s the first time I can sense he might be growing aroused.
I’m smiling as I flip over, completely naked as his eyes rake up and down my body. I’ve never thought lying on my back is my most attractive position. My breasts are soft and heavy and fall to the sides in a weird way. But there’s nothing in Edmund’s face that’s remotely disappointed or critical.
It’s more like he’s devouring me with his eyes. Like he wants to swallow me whole.
When a full minute passes and he doesn’t restart the massage, I frown. “I’m not lying here for you to stare at, you know.”
“Why not? I’ve never seen anyone so gorgeous in my life.”
“You’ve dated literal supermodels.”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is you can’t actually believe what you’re saying. And you know perfectly well I’m into you already. You don’t have to butter me up with ridiculous, over-the-top compliments.”
“They’re not ridiculous.” He leans down to press a soft kiss against my mouth. “They’re true.”
“Edmund.”
“You don’t have to believe me. But you should. You should know by now that you don’t have to look like a supermodel to be gorgeous.” He moves down my body so he can start massaging my feet again, rubbing the coconut oil into them so his hands move smoothly over my skin. “People like different things. And...” He’s silent for several seconds, and I think he’s not going to finish his thought. But then, “And sometimes our eyes are opened.”
My lips part as I process the words. Then I’m flooded with a wave of deep pleasure and appreciation.
I wasn’t wrong all those years that I knew for sure Edmund didn’t see me as anything but his assistant. He hasn’t been lusting after me secretly all this time.
But his eyes have been opened. And now he does.
It’s real, and he means it.
“Well, I always thought you were hot,” I mumble.
“Sure you did.” He’s slowly rubbing my ankles.
“I did.”
“But you weren’t interested.”
I’m not sure how to respond to that. Part of me was always interested in him romantically, but I never let those fluttery thoughts take root. Not only because I knew he would never want me that way but also because a significant part of me wouldn’t want him.
I might aesthetically appreciate a man who’s never applied himself to anything worthwhile, but that’s not the kind of man I actually want.
But the Edmund he is now, who’s shown himself to be so much more...
That’s an entirely different matter.
I smile at him, just a little wobbly because admitting the truth to myself is such a risk. “I’m interested now.”
His face softens palpably. “Good.”
He focuses once more on his massage, and I focus once more on relaxing. It’s not long before the intensifying relaxation triggers arousal again. By the time he’s reached my hips, I can’t keep them still. I’m squirming and moaning and evidently incapable of maintaining any modicum of composure.
“Edmund!” His name comes out as a hoarse gasp. I lift my arms, folding them above my head and clutching at the blanket beneath me.
“Yes?” He slides his hands to my belly, rubbing it thoroughly before cupping both my breasts at once.
My back arches up as desire throbs between my legs, radiating out to fill the rest of my body. “Edmund!”
“Now you’re letting go,” he murmurs. “You’re feeling so good. Don’t try to fight it.”