Henry's gaze turned quickly from appreciative and admiring to downright wolfish as more and more of Jane's body was exposed to his view. From head to toe, she was a vision, and the rose-colored bit of nothing that held so tightly at the apex of her legs somehow served to emphasize and draw his attention to her center, and not cover or obscure it at all. How he did love modern design.
"I knew you would be beautiful," he told her, feeling his control slipping quickly. He closed the gap between them and guided Jane to the bed. Henry's hands were suddenly all over her body, caressing thighs and cupping her breasts and stroking her hair. His kisses began to trail quickly down her chin and neck before he covered her breasts with them.
One hand paused and reached down to let him struggle briefly with his trousers until he was naked, mouth still moving ever downward along Jane's stomach.