He leans close to me. His breath caresses me, just like in my dream, but it’s hotter now. It shudders out from his rumbling chest. I can see right into the depths of his eyes, like lakes with deep green islands in the middle.
“Nobody, and I mean nobody, gets away with talking to me how you are now.”
I grab his collar, standing on my tiptoes. Our noses touch. My n*****s are frustratingly hard. My thighs ache: from the run, I tell myself. “Do something about it then,” I sneer. “Or shut the hell up. But if you think I’m going to be afraid of you, you’ve got another thing coming.”
His hand darts up to my hair, grabbing a bunch. The tug on my scalp doesn’t hurt as much as it should. It’s almost gentle. I let out a sighing moan before I think to hide it from him. He notices it, though. He not
