She slips off the last bit of clothing that hides her nubile body from my eyes.

She’s perfect.

I look at her from top to bottom, then back again until I settle on her piercing, icy blue eyes.

She’s slender—but not petite—and given the definition of her legs and ass, she certainly spends a lot of time on the move.

That means that she has stamina.

Good.

Nothing more disappointing than bedding a woman who tires easily.

I already know that Gabrielle has the wit and charm to equal my own—both traits that I will use in my plan to bring Senator Price to my side of the fence—which is almost as sexy and appealing than her body and virginity.

Almost.

But it all boils down to one solid fact.

Gabrielle is the full package.

It’s hard to resist the temptation to take her in that very moment. Especially since I can see her pussy is lustrous with desire.

It’s enough to make my mouth water.

I stand from the chair and unfasten the top button of my jacket.

I walk around her as if to inspect her. We both know that I’m already pleased with what I’ve seen, but a person cannot fully appreciate a sculpture if they only look at it from one view.

My hand reaches out and grips her ass firmly.

I catch the sound of her breath hitch in her throat.

“Enjoying the goods back there?”

Her voice is husky and calls to my lust like a familiar lover. It begs me to take her to bed…to take all of her.

I let myself enjoy the thought of my lips moving between her thighs. I think of my tongue licking up her pussy juices and savoring the taste as if it was a glass of 1941 Inglenook Cabernet Sauvignon.

Gabrielle even smells of the wine—violet and rose petal.

It’s an intoxicating aroma.

I’m tempted once more to give in. To bend her over right now and see if she does taste as good as I imagine.

I don’t.

I can’t.

There’s a bigger picture here. One far more important.

My hands move to her hips, and I turn her to face me.

Her eyes look up into my own, and I can see that she wants me to take her just as badly.

I know I’m not her type of man—not in the personality department anyway—but you don’t need to like someone to fuck them.

Slowly, I move my hand to her throat, and I wrap my fingers around her neck.

Her eyes go wide for a moment, in shock and surprise, but it’s only for a moment. Her gaze narrows, and her slender lips curl into a mischievous smirk.

She’s calling me out.

Her brazen hunger is making my cock swell and throb so much that it fucking hurts.

It’s been a long time since a woman has been able to elicit such a reaction from me. It only makes me want her more.

The internal struggle within is like a war of attrition.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet,” she teases.

She licks her lips as her eyes move down to my cock.

“I’d hate to think I came all the way out here just to be disappointed,” she coos.

“Oh, there will be no disappointment tonight. I assure you.”

I let my other hand slide between her thighs.

My fingers slowly glide against her supple flesh until I reach the wetness of her pussy.

Gabrielle’s breath catches in her throat and I can feel it against the palm of my hand.

I slide a finger in between her silken lips and experience just how wet she truly is. It’s as if I’ve dipped my finger into a pond on a humid summer day.

She’s hot, wet, and welcoming.

The length of my finger delves deeper into her depths.

Gabrielle’s eyes close tightly. A soft moan slips from her pursed lips.

I look down to see her thighs trembling gently.

That’s what I love about virgins, especially ones who get so worked up like Gabrielle. It doesn’t take much to turn them into putty in my hand.

My finger curls inside her, and my thumb presses up against her clit. My thumb and finger move like waves trying to reach each other through her body.

She reaches out and grabs my arm to hold herself steady.

Her breathing is growing faster.

Each caress that comes from my grip pulls her deeper into the abyss.

Gabrielle’s eyes open, and she looks at me as if to demand that I take her right then and there.

It’s a look I’ve never seen in any previous woman I’ve been with.

Usually, they beg and plead for me to take them. They tell me how they need to feel me and my cock.

But not Gabrielle.

She doesn’t beg at all. She’s doesn’t even make a word.

She doesn’t have to. Her eyes speak volumes.

Gabrielle demands it. She looks at me as if she bought me and not the other way around.

She’s a woman who knows what she wants and when she wants it.

And it’s incredibly fucking sexy.

But the problem—for Gabrielle anyway—is that everything works on my schedule and my wants.

Not hers.

Her body begins to stiffen—she’s on the precipice of drowning in her climax—and that is when I remove my hand from her pussy.

She looks at me with surprise and frustration.

I lift my hand to my lips.

I keep my eyes locked on hers as she starts to come down from that near release I provided her.

My finger slides in between my lips, and her taste floods my senses.

I feel as though I’ve bitten into peach—freshly picked from the garden—on a warm July morning.

Never have I tasted anything—or anyone—so decadently succulent before.

The problem is that her taste doesn’t linger as long I hoped.

I did only just clean her from my finger after all.

I lick my lips instinctively as if I was a cat that had just scored a bowl of cream.

I’m about to clean another of my fingers of her when Gabrielle grabs my hand and slips said finger into her mouth.

I feel her tongue swirling around my finger as she cleans away her juices. The way her tongue moves is deft and enticing.

I can’t help wondering just how amazing it’s going to feel on my cock. And I will feel it work its magic.

Just not tonight.

I have to keep reminding myself of the big picture.

She frees my finger from the embrace of her tongue and lips.

“Thank you for the taste,” she says with a playful wink.

I let go.

I feel a lump in my throat that swells and throbs as much as my cock is.

“You’re welcome.”

I pull the handkerchief from the breast pocket of my jacket and use it to dry my hand.

I go back to my chair.

My back is to her, and I take this moment to center myself. I cannot—and will not—let my own desires ruin this opportunity for me.

The top button of my jacket is easily undone, and I sit down.

My hand comes up to my face, and my finger slides back and forth between my closed lips.

I can see, smell, and taste her on me.

She will be my victory reward when all is said and done.

But not before.

Nothing—absolutely fucking nothing—is going to come between me and my rocket launch.

Not Senator Price.

Not Gabrielle.

And certainly not my own desire to have her.

No woman is worth that much.