“How can anyone, especially you, find all this” — you wave your hand around, gesturing to your naked body lying before Tom on his bed — “attractive?”

“You see fault where I find beauty,” he says gently, running the backs of his fingers down your cheek.

The corner of his mouth turns up. “By the end of this night, you will feel as if you could tempt a saint.”

“Why would I want to do that?” you ask. “I’ve already got you… Haven’t I?”

Tom bends down and places his lips on your collarbone while briefly touching your waist with his hand, brushing the underside of your breast. “Yes, you do.”

“Now,” he says, straightening, and you can tell he’s gone into his dominating self. “Sit up and watch me. I want to look your face as you watch me undress.”

You do as told and sit up, your hands resting on your thighs. When your eyes meet his, it is thoroughly impossible to look away. You find yourself lost in his intense blue stare. Sometimes, when he looks at you like this, you almost believe that he is as enamored by you as you are with him.

Standing right in front of you, he starts to disrobe, his long fingers deftly undoing the buttons on his shirt, and slides it off his shoulders, dropping it to the floor, unwanted.

Breaking away from his eyes, you drag yours to his chest dusted with dark hair, then travel further to his stomach. And while his muscles there aren’t pronounced, your mouth still watered. Shit, he wasn’t even naked yet and you were already wet.

“Take them off,” he says, and you realize he’s referring to his pants.