Raelynn
Neither of us moves. Even when the doorbell rings again, we just stand there—his hand still on my n****e, his nails teasing it, the other hand gripping my waist.
His gaze darkens with every reaction I give him.
This is wrong on so many levels, I know that. But I don't want him to pull away.
God help me, I want him to keep touching me.
He's so close to me, our breath mingling with each other, yet he doesn't let me kiss him. It both frustrates and relieves me.
I swallow thickly. My tongue darts out and runs along my bottom lip—
His groan cuts through the silence like a snapped thread.
I freeze.
So does he.
But his hand? It moves lower.
I gasp.
His fingers slide under the hem of my skirt, rough and warm, dragging against my bare skin like he's branding me.
"Raelynn?!"
I
