“I don’t like seeing you like this,” he said, his voice husky and teasingly gruff.
“Like what?” I asked, feigning innocence.
“Clothed,” he replied with a wicked grin, grabbing my arm and pulling me back onto the bed. I landed exactly where he wanted me—on his lap. If his idea of "clothed" meant wearing only one of his oversized t-shirts, I wasn’t sure how he expected me to walk around.
His hand slipped under the fabric, cupping my breast with a bold possessiveness that sent a shiver down my spine. I laughed, trying to push him away half-heartedly.
“Silas... I’m serious. I’m starving. It’s nearly evening,” I protested, though my body betrayed me, leaning into his every touch as if I couldn’t resist him. My mind screamed to stop, but my treacherous body had already surrendered.
Images f
