“Yes,” he growled with a nod. “Touch me.”
I gazed into his eyes. He stared back at me, his gaze slightly glassy but hungry and desperate. I couldn’t remember a man ever looking at me the way that Cyrus did. As if he would simply die if he couldn’t have me, especially at that moment, when he was drunk and not fully in control of himself. His armor was down, and he wasn’t trying to hide just how much he wanted me.
It was intoxicating, and my head began to swim with a combination of lust and giddiness. Holding his gaze, I slowly undid his pants and slid my hand inside past his underwear. I wrapped my fingers around him and watched his jaw clench as a groan slipped past his lips. His hand remained between my legs, his fingers rubbing my sensitive flesh as I stroked his hard length.
Our brea
