CARTER
“Rory…” Her name is a hoarse sound on my lips, my vision so clouded with lust and hazy around the edges that I can barely make out anything save for her face.
“Yeah?”
She seems just as distracted as I am. I don’t even think it’s possible she heard what I said with the way her eyes stay glued to my lips. Her lashes are wet and spiky, a droplet of water running down the side of her face and stopping at her upper lip. All I can think about is closing the distance between our faces and licking it off.
Her skin has never looked better than it does at the moment.
“What are you doing?”
Actually, the question I should be asking is ‘what the f**k is wrong with me?’ because how on earth do I have a naked Rory pressed up to me and the only thing I can think to do is ask her what she i
