Vivienne leaned back on the chaise, trying to catch her breath. Her chest heaved, her skin still buzzing from everything he had just done. She was only in her petticoats and underwear now. Her hair stuck to her damp face, her lips swollen, her legs still trembling. Her brain wasn't working. Every single thought had left the building hours ago. She wasn't thinking, wasn't planning, wasn't scheming. Wasn't even wishing him death as usual. Or planning to rob him. She was just… alive. Or as alive as she would ever be with this lunatic.
André stood there for a moment, watching her like he was seeing her for the first time and the last time at the same time. She blinked at him. God, his eyes. They weren't hungry. They weren't cruel. They weren't… anything she could pin a word on. He was just there. And his presence alone made her stomach twist and her thighs ache.
