"Rose?" He put down his baggage, she could hear it clatter and thud on the floor. She knew he was probably carrying the portable massage table he had brought the other night and a bag she knew was full of scented oils. She felt more than heard him approach, and she knew exactly how she looked, because there was a mirror on the ceiling and she had seen herself, long blonde hair spread out like a golden field of wheat beneath her shoulders, lips red and swollen and aching to be kissed, the pink nubs of her nipples hard with excitement.
"Oh god," he whispered and she felt his weight shifting the bed, his knee pushing down on the mattress. "You're so fucking beautiful."
She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. His hand moved through her hair, his fingers trailing over her cheek. She felt the heat of his breath on her shoulder, felt the press of his lips against her collarbone, her throat. A soft moan caught in her throat, her eyelids fluttering, her stomach tight with anticipation. Please, oh Matt, please, please...
And then he was kissing her, his mouth soft and open, exploring hers. This time she did moan, meeting his growing urgency, her limbs tingling with feeling as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him fully onto the bed. She gasped when he pressed the full weight of his clothed body against hers, feeling the bite of his belt buckle against her navel. Thank god, Matt had given up his white coats for these meetings, coming in jeans and a button-down shirt.
"Oh Matt, please," she whispered, giving voice to her pleas. "I want you so much. I can't stand it. Please, please, please..." She punctuated each please with a kiss along his throat, her hands already working the buttons of his shirt.
"How did you get in here?" he asked again as she peeled off his shirt, delighting in the sight and feel of his bare skin.
"Magic," she whispered, giggling, working on his belt--and he let her. He let her!