I grabbed a few pencils, selected one with a soft lead, and stood by the bed, sketching Drake as he lay sleeping. I had to work fast. I didn't want him to know I was drawing him, so I used broad strokes, capturing his body on the bed, adding in the shadows and highlights in a very rough form. Later, I'd flesh it out, add fine detail. Maybe, once we got to Nairobi, I'd make a canvas and do a painting with acrylics. I hadn't painted for months and it would be a pleasure to have nothing to do – no work, no classes – so that I could indulge myself and paint.
The painting I planned would be more appropriate for a bedroom than any other room, but still. I needed to paint him. He was inspiration for my artistic muse.
When I'd finished the sketch, which took about fifteen minutes, I put my sketchbook and pencils away and crept back onto the bed. I pulled the sheet over me and moved closer to Drake, wondering if he'd want to do anything about that delicious looking erection. Drake inhaled deeply and moved beside me, leaning up on his elbow to check the clock radio on the nightstand. Then, he slipped quickly out of the covers and sat on the side of the bed.
"Good morning," I said. I crawled up behind him and kissed his shoulder and then his neck. "I love waking up with you beside me. What are your plans for the morning?" I slipped my hands around his waist and felt his erection. He groaned when I took him in my hand, but then, to my surprise, he took my hand away.
"I have a meeting," he said. "I'm late. Didn't the damn clock radio go off?" He glanced at the settings on the clock radio beside the bed. "Crap. I have to run. My appointment's in half an hour."
I lay back down, watching him as he left the bed.
He started the shower. I followed him and pulled back the shower door a crack to watch him, water from the showerhead cascading over his gorgeous body, his black hair wet, his eyelashes clumping together. He lathered up and began washing his body, his hands sliding over his chest and abs, and then washing his groin and thighs.
"Can I join you?"
"I'm in a hurry, so we can't do anything this morning."
"That's OK," I said, and stepped back and started to close the curtain. "I'll wait until you're done."
He took hold of the door and stopped me, his eyes on mine.
"I'd love to fuck you, but I'm really in a rush," he said, shaking his head. "But later, I want to watch you make yourself come for me."
"What?" A flush went through me.
"Katherine," he said, furrowing his brows in mock anger, fighting a grin. "I enjoyed watching you fuck me so much, I want to see you get yourself off. No objections. Masturbation was part of the agreement, in case you forgot."
I exhaled and considered. "I've never done it in front of anyone. I don't know if I can, you know," I said, raising a shoulder, embarrassed. "Relax enough."
"I want to see you use Big, but for today, I'll let you use your own fingers," he said as if that was an end to it. He finished rinsing off and then stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and drying himself off. I leaned against the doorjamb and watched, in a little bit of awe at his male beauty. His body was so perfect, his cock, even semi-flaccid, was large and thick. When he was dry enough, he wrapped the towel around his waist and went to the vanity, applying deodorant and then brushing his teeth. He had quite the growth of whiskers and his hair was longer, a bit wild. He looked devastatingly gorgeous.
I felt a surge of desire at the sight of him standing there at the mirror, knowing he was all mine.
He brushed his hair and watched me in the mirror. I was still naked, my arms crossed around my waist.
"You look entirely edible, Ms. Bennet. I don't know how I'll make it through the day, thinking of what I'll get when I return tonight."
"You're going to be gone all day?"
"Meetings and more meetings," he said. "But when I get back, I want you freshly showered and waiting for me, naked, on the bed, your legs spread. I want you already wet, thinking of me."
I smiled despite my disappointment that he'd be gone all day, a thrill speeding through me at the thought of him watching me. "If you really want to watch..."
"I really want to watch," he said. "I want you looking in my eyes as you make yourself come, thinking of me watching you."
"I'll feel like a wanton woman," I said, biting my lip to hold back a grin.
"That's exactly how I want you to feel, because there is one inside of you if you'll let her out." He went to the bedroom closet and pulled out his clothes for the day – a dark suit, white shirt and dark tie. He dressed so conservatively, but it suited him. He looked elegant, wealthy, sleek but his longish hair and whiskered jaw made him look sexy. He pulled on socks and then stood before me.