I would hold my head down and steal peeks at him from the corner of my eye, his profile sharp, stern and in my imagination, he was the epitome of masc...linity and strength. This Nubian king ruled me with an iron hand in the the proverbial velvet glove and I did not resist. If he wanted me to keep my head down in the car until he gave permission otherwise, fine. If he wanted me to meet at Starbucks at 6am in a halter-top and hip-huggers, so be it. I no longer felt the insecurities about my body. I studied his body like a student would a book. His broad, strong shoulders, and his little patch of fur on his chest, which traveled down his toned stomach and around his cute, belly button. His hands were rough from his working, but his arms, chest, and face were all smooth and soft to the touch. And so very warm. His heat was intense. I watched his eyes as he studied me lying on my side. My dress sculpting my body. I could tell he was undressing me with his eyes and I loved it. I slowly. More

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