Chapter 8
EIGHT
KOR
There was a door between my new bedroom and Vivienne’s—I noticed it almost as soon as she left. It was cracked open about an inch, letting light from her room stream into mine.
Curious, I went to look at it and saw that it led directly into her bedroom, which was much more feminine than my late uncle’s old room. I caught hints of rose and gold and saw that she had a vast arching window on her far wall, which was almost as big as the one I had on mine.
I was just about to shut the door and lock it—because I’m not a fucking peeping Tom—when Vivienne came into view. She didn’t even look at the door—she just started removing her robe. She pulled it off and I had to bite my tongue to keep from groaning.
She had a full, curvy figure with wide hips and big breasts—in other words, exactly my type. It was clear she wasn’t wearing a bra because the stiff points of her nipples were clearly visible through her cotton nightgown.
The nightgown itself was very modest—it went up almost to her chin and down to mid-calf on her. But it was white, and the material was thin, letting me see her body clearly.
I knew I ought to shut the door—and honestly, I tried. But when I pushed it closed—as quietly as I could—it popped open again with a loud creeeeak that set my teeth on edge.
“Kor?” I heard her call, and then I knew there was no hiding the fact that I’d seen her.
“Er, sorry,” I said, pulling the door open again and doing my best to keep my eyes on her face. “I was trying to close this door, but it doesn’t seem to want to shut.”
“Oh yes—I’m afraid the lock is broken,” she said apologetically. “I tried to lock it early in my marriage and Carder broke it when he wanted to…” She made a face. “Anyway, we just never got it fixed.”
She shrugged, but her words had given me another awful mental image. I could guess why she’d tried to lock the connecting door between their rooms—she’d wanted to keep him out, to keep him off her. But my uncle, that bastard, had broken into her room so he could rape her.
God, the more I knew about him, the more I wished I’d come to meet him when he was still alive. I wanted to beat his ass for what he’d done to Vivienne. Or dig him up and kill him all over again—slowly. I wondered what he had died of—I hoped it was fucking painful.
“Oh, well…I guess I’ll just shut it as much as I can then,” I said lamely, because I didn’t know what else to say.
“That’s fine.” She nodded. “Well, good night.”
“Good night, Vivienne,” I said, successfully keeping my gaze from wandering below her neck.
But since I wasn’t sure how long I could keep my eyes off her beautiful body, I shut the door firmly and watched as it creaked open about an inch. Well, that was as good as it was going to get, I reminded myself.
It occurred to me, as I took my shower in the ensuite bathroom, which was all marble and gold fixtures, that Vivienne must really trust me.
She’d put me in a room right beside her own with a door that wouldn’t lock—wouldn’t even shut properly.
If I had been the kind of male my late uncle was, that might have turned out badly for her.
Thankfully, my father raised me right. Even if the Unbreakable Laws hadn’t been standing between us, I still wouldn’t have taken advantage or tried anything.
I’m not that kind of male.
But then the memory of her soft, curvy body in the loose white nightgown invaded my brain again and my cock—which had only been half hard—suddenly stood at attention again.
Stop it, I told myself as I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair. Stop fucking thinking of her like that—she’s off limits, for God’s sake!
But the image wouldn’t go away. Her full breasts swaying slightly when she moved…the tight points of her nipples that looked so incredibly suckable…the dark triangle between her legs which must be the curls on her pussy mound…
Before I knew it, I had taken myself in hand.
Just once, I told myself. Just to blow off some steam. I won’t even think of her.
But I did. As much as I tried to put her out of my mind, it was Vivenne’s face and figure and gorgeous gold-ringed eyes I saw as I finally came with a groan.
As I pumped my cum in spurt after spurt against the gray marble wall of the shower, I swore to myself I wouldn’t do this again.
It was wrong to think of Vivienne this way—she was off limits.
I couldn’t go on like this. Jerking off to the thought of her wasn’t right—this had to be the first and last time I did it.
I had no idea how hard that promise would be to keep…or how soon I would break it.