He must have felt the change in my attitude, he must have read my thoughts on my face, because a split second after I freeze, he is standing up and pulling me with him, then kissing me again, with the same urgency as before, despite my dulled response.
“I want you to turn around,” He whispers against my lips. “And bend over.”
He takes my pause as a chance to run his hand down my chest, my stomach, my body betraying my brain and shuddering under his touch, his palm leaving a hot trail in its wake. Once he reaches my hips, he spins me around, and in my shock, I don’t have the brainpower to retaliate.
His hands slide up my back, to my shoulders, where he moves my hair out of his way, and kisses my skin. Small, delicate kisses, trailing over my shoulder, up to my neck, and once he sees my h
