"I should go," Will mumbled against my lips, though his hand still moved up under my shirt, still caressed my bare back with slow, lazy strokes that made it clear he didn’t actually want to leave.
I just hummed in response, moving my tongue against his, not really caring about anything he had to say at that moment. All I cared about was the feel of him — the warmth of his body pressed to mine, the way he tasted like sleep and mint, the way he had woken me up so tenderly, fingers threading through my hair like he had all the time in the world.
He had told me it was five in the morning, had whispered that he should probably sneak back to his own room before anyone else in the house stirred awake. And then he had kissed me, and everything else had fallen away.
When I felt his lips against
