Munto smacked his lips, tongue lolling in his mouth to try and dispel the sudden parch there. He swallowed hard. Throat seized with an inexpressible need. Gut twitching, almost ready to start somersaulting. The muscles along his fingers burned with the need to move, to clench, to do something.
He didn't move an inch.
His eyes remained steadfast on the gift before him. A gift meant to be hung in his private study. For his eyes and his eyes only. For him to enjoy at his leisure. And he most certainly enjoyed it.
Framed by handpainted golden petals delicately attached to a dark wooden frame, an elegant woman posed. She kept her back to the painter and gazed over her shoulder. Golden hair had been swept out of the way and glinted in the sunlight from an open window. Soft, unblemished skin greeted him. Baby pink wrapped around her frame and hung to the floor.
The fabric hid little as cat eyes drank it all in. He began with her plump ass, clearly visible beneath the fabric. The pink only highlighted the smooth skin. Oh, how he ached to touch. The memory of their softness, how they fit in his palm so well, haunted him now.
Munto's eyes trailed down her thighs until the frame cut him short. His heart hammered against his chest like a fast drum. He tried to steady himself with a breath but his traitorous gaze was already making its way back up. A wicked, unhurried pace. Soaking in every detail of her body.
Sheer pink traced her ribs with a delicate touch before disappearing under her arm. Her visible arm secured the cloth firmly to her side. One neatly manicured hand rested on her bicep. A golden ring shined on her fourth ring.
His tongue flickered out to wet chapped lips. Golden gaze skimmed along a kissable shoulder, and then over an even more kissable neck. Cherry lips caught his attention. A cheeky quirk from the corner of her lips memorized him. Her knowing side glance darkened her bright green eyes to enchanting emeralds. It finalized such a seductive pose to have such a coquettish smile.
And the last of his blood drained from his head and down to his cock. It strained against his pants. Demanded he find the minx responsible for commissioning the piece and demonstrate his appreciation for the rest of the day… and night… and probably the next morning too.
Too bad the damn woman had left that morning to visit her family.
Munto cursed under his breath and practically flew back to his room. He had a meeting in a few short hours and there was no way he'd enter that meeting with a tent in his pants.