My heart is in my throat. “I claim to hate you, Mercy.” My sigh is heavy with memories of our last few weeks spent together. I take a step toward her, my fingers grazing the hem of her short black skirt. Her gaze is just as intense as mine. I lean close to her ear. “And yet,” I whisper before biting her earlobe. Her breath hitches as her body relaxes against me, shoulders falling. “The sound of your throaty moans haunts my every waking moment.”
