She tries to persuade him

Nicole felt a traitorous heat blooming between her thighs, the dampness clinging to her skin. She shifted her weight, the red lace of her dress rubbing against her sensitive clitoris.

"I can't do this here," Nicole whispered, her voice trembling. "Your wife... Martha... she's just down the hall."

Jefferson stepped closer, the scent of expensive tobacco and aged scotch swirling around him. He let out a low, rumbling chuckle that vibrated in the small space between them.

"Martha is a modern woman, Nicole. Since the baby arrived, we’ve found a new rhythm. An open arrangement."

Nicole blinked, her chest heaving. "You're telling me she knows?"

"She knows I have tastes. She doesn't mind a little extracurricular activity, provided the house remains peaceful and the bills are paid."

He circled her like a predator, his eyes tracing the curve of her hip. He stopped inches away, his presence overwhelming the room.

"Strip."

Nicole stiffened. "What?"

"Everything. I want to see exactly what I'm paying for with those photographs. Slowly."

Nicole’s fingers shook as she reached for the zipper. The metallic click sounded like a gunshot in the silence. She eased the fabric down, the red lace sliding over her shoulders and pooling around her ankles in a crimson heap. The cool air of the guest wing hit her bare skin, making her nipples harden into tight peaks.

Jefferson didn't touch her. He simply watched, his gaze heavy and possessive, roaming over her slender waist and the soft swell of her breasts.

"The bed," he commanded.

Nicole obeyed, stepping out of the lace and walking toward the expansive mattress. The fresh linens felt crisp and cold against her thighs as she sat on the edge. She kept her back straight, her hands resting on the duvet, while her heart hammered against her ribs.

She looked at him, her eyes wide and searching. He remained standing, his hands in his pockets, letting the silence stretch until the tension became an almost physical weight in the room. He didn't move to touch her, prolonging the agony of anticipation.

Jefferson’s fingers gripped the leather of his belt, the buckle clicking with a sharp, metallic finality that echoed in the silent guest room. He stepped out of his trousers, his pale, thick cock springing free, already glistening with a bead of pre-cum.