“I want your unyielding defiance, your mischievous curiosity, your ceaseless muttering in your sleep.” His eyes opened. “Your buttery hair in my hands.” I wasn’t sure I breathed. Wasn’t sure that if I looked away from him, I would believe this wasn’t a game. The conviction roughening and firming his voice held me utterly still. “I want you, Mildred. Always and incessantly, I’ve fucking wanted you.”
