“You think of me all the time, Kitten,” he claims, his teeth grazing over a sensitive part of my neck. “You think of me every time you decide not to attend an event at the very last second, because you’d just found out I’d be there.” His hand wraps into my hair, and he kisses my neck, his touch featherlight. “You think of me each time you pull out of a property auction or retract a development proposal.”
