He pulls his hand away and sits on his heels, kneeling as he slides my panties off. With his hands on my inner thighs, he presses my legs open. My pulse jumps with the vulnerability, spread wide under him, unable to hide. But our eyes meet and he mutters a curse under his breath. He’s so gorgeous, I don’t know where to look—his handsome face, his fucked-up and messy hair, the carved chest, shoulders, and abdomen dusted with hair, or the strong thighs braced on the bed.
