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It was a voice straight out of her fantasies. Felix held his candle up, illuminating his sharp cheekbones and his red eyes glowing in the dark.
Oh god.
Embarrassment washed over her in waves. “Felix?”
He took a step forward and she smelled him—pine, ink, and man. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect to find you—The door was unlocked and I thought—“ He turned his glowing eyes away, willing them to change color. She struggled to button her nightgown. Of all the mortifying things to happen.
Buttoning up her nightgown, she turned to him. His silver eyes gazed at her, daring not to slip below her neck. They both knew what she had been doing seconds ago. Her boss had seen her bring herself pleasure, crying out his name when she climaxed at the thought of his fingers inside her cunt, his low voice whispering praises in her ear. Why had she been stupid enough to leave the door unlocked?
“About that…” she pointed to the bed. “I was…I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were coming.”
That even sounded wrong.
He touched his temple nervously. “What you do in your private time is none of my business.” His voice came out breathier than usual. “I apologize for not knocking. I didn’t know which room you were in.”
She nodded, not knowing how to reply to his comment.
“We have captured Sazan. He tried to leave the house earlier that night. We arrested him before he escaped. I came to tell you that you can return to the inn.”
“I…see…” There was no stopping the splotches of red that erupted on her face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t awake for the grand finale. You should’ve woken me up.”
“It all happened very fast. I was worried Sazan would escape after reading your missive. That’s why I moved in early. Your message was quite useful,” he said, clearing his throat. “Good job.”
She groaned. Did he have to say that right now in that low, smoldering voice of his? It sounded serious and sensual at the same time.
“Is something the matter?” he asked, noticing her violent reaction.
“No! Nothing at all.” She stepped away from him. “Give me a moment to get dressed. I’ll be out in five minutes.”
“Take your time. I’m sorry for intruding.” He stepped out and closed the door faster than she could blink.
Amara sunk to the floor. He had seen everything. Mortification flooded her face.
How was she ever going to live this down?
Five
Felix
Felix wanted to forget what he’d seen last night.
Standing outside his old house, he recalled lascivious images of Amara lying in bed, her legs wide open. He was supposed to get to work and write up a report. Instead, he found himself rooted to the familiar gravel path that led to the place where his fondest memories had been made. He hoped coming here would remind him of his late wife, but nothing could stop the barrage of images from last night. It was his fault for forgetting to knock. Still, he hadn’t expected to see her bringing herself pleasure.
Heat gathered under his collar at the thought of her glistening, swollen pussy. She had been so wet, legs shaking, seconds away from an orgasm. He didn’t want her to stop. He had wanted to lick her dripping slit, eat her ripe clit and push her over the edge of ecstasy. He wanted to feel her legs shaking when he made her come. When he closed her eyes, he could almost hear her cry out in pleasure. The sound of her wild cries made his dick harden. He had gone far too long without a woman, which is why he’d reacted so violently to her solo session. He was a demon, after all. Passion was part of his blood. Felix shifted from leg to leg, trying to adjust his bulging erection. Thank god he was alone.
If it had been anyone else, he’d have forgotten it already. But it was Amara. Mrs. Dane. The woman he’d once thought himself almost in love with. He’d often wondered about how she spent her lonely nights. The answer was far more tantalizing than he’d expected.
“Are you going to go in?” A shadow met the base of his foot. Goosebumps pricked his back at the sound of her familiar voice. Amara stood a few feet away, eyes trained on the cottage. She took a step forward when he remained silent. “You’ve been standing here for twenty minutes.”
“You were watching me.” He must’ve been deep in his thoughts if he hadn’t noticed her.
“Is this your house? The one you wrote to me about in the letters?” she asked, her small button-like nose pointing up. The streetlight painted her rich skin orange. She looked oddly enchanting.
“I haven’t been here in years.” She craned her neck, trying to look inside the dirty windows. “This house holds too many memories.”
“Of your wife.” She knew because she’d read his letters for three years. Her eyes, the color of warm honey, were on him. “Do you want to move back in here?”
“I don’t think that’s likely to happen. My son wants me to sell the house.”
