In the dimly lit room, a woman with long, black hair and olive skin stood facing away from the door. Her back was to the entrance, and she was completely nude, her silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the lone table lamp. She was an Indian beauty, her curves full and voluptuous, her thick hair cascading down her back in a waterfall of darkness.
He watched her from the doorway, his eyes taking in the sight of her bare skin, the curve of her hips, the slope of her back. He had wanted her from the moment they met, and now, here she was, offering herself to him.
Slowly, he approached her, his footsteps silent on the plush carpet. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he touched her shoulder, tracing the line of her collarbone with his fingertips.
She shivered at his touch, her breath hitching in her throat. She turned to face him, her eyes dark with desire.
