Constantine’s hands began to roam down my back and rested on my ass. He squeezed. “I do hate you.” I repeated. “You let me think you were dead.” “I had to.” His hands traveled to the front of my hips and began pulling my dress slowly up. He leaned down, and I felt his warm breath on my neck. “I needed to see how long you’d wait for me.” His hand dipped between my thighs, cupping my sex. “Did you, wife?”
