"Are you just gonna leave like this?" His velvety voice startled her as she dressed quietly. She swallowed hard, knowing that to look up and see the exquisitely nude physique that now lay atop the bed they had set on fire just a few short hours ago, would be the first step to undoing her. "I do have to work," she laughed gently as her fingers fumbled with the straps on her Prada sandals. "Here, let me," Sonny offered, holding out his hand. Dara paused uncertainly for a moment, this could be dangerous. Stretching out the smooth, tawny leg, she held her breath as his fingers danced lightly over her calf before easily doing the task Dara had suddenly found enormously difficult and she continued to avert her gaze.
"Call in sick," Sonny's voice rumbled, his fingers now playing a much more seductive tune along her smooth skin. Knowing it would be a mistake, Dara's gaze rose to meet Sonny's. The hunger in his eyes entranced Dara and heat instantly coursed through her veins. "I'm always getting sick whenever I stay over," she commented lightly, a smile playing about her lips. Seconds later, she was once again in his embrace against the rumpled sheets of the mammoth sized bed. "Michael," she whimpered as she felt his hardened member brush her inner thigh. He moaned slightly at her calling, he loved the way she said his name. Hearing her say it again, he knew it was sacred. Dara was sacred. How could he even consider letting her leave his life now?
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