“You have no idea what the image of you wearing my clothes does to me,” Oliver murmured between kisses, his breath hot against her skin. “Show me,” Harper muttered between sweet moans. Oliver’s control shattered at the sound of her breathless encouragement. With a guttural groan, he pushed her back against the pillows, his larger frame caging hers beneath him. The lamplight caught the sharp planes of his muscles as he settled between her legs, his hardness pressing insistently against the thin silk separating them. “I will show you,” he promised roughly, his voice thick with need. “I will show you exactly how much I want you when you talk about wearing my clothes and smelling like me.” His tore through the delicate silk fabric of her light blue nigh gown, like it was tissue paper. The silk
