The lighting in Leo’s bedroom was dim, the only illumination coming from two bedside lamps that cast amber pools of light across the charcoal-grey linens and the deep mahogany of the furniture. The air was heavy with the scent of expensive sandalwood and the lingering, peaty aroma of the scotch Leo had been sipping.
Sienna stood in the center of the room, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. The black lace teddy was barely more than a suggestion of clothing. The sheer fabric clung to her curves, the intricate floral patterns teasing the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips. Every time she breathed, the lace shifted, scratching lightly against her sensitized n*****s.
Leo didn't move from where he stood, just a few feet away. He had shed his suit jacket and tie;
