"Fuck, Paolo." His heated fingers caressed my sensitive flesh, dragging out a moan. York's touches stopped for a second, and I met his gaze. "Don't stop." His pink tongue flicked out, dragging across his bottom lip and leaving a sheen of wetness behind. I wanted to lean forward and kiss him. Really kiss him, no more of these small pecks. I wanted to map out every inch of his mouth and own him completely. York broke off our stare and went back to poking and prodding the bruises on my flesh until he was satisfied.
