He bites his lower lip and brings his hands forward, skating his palms over the fabric straining against his frame. When he brushes his fingertips over his nipples and shivers, I know he’s doing it on purpose. It brings me up to my feet so I can crowd against him, and my hands follow the path he just trailed—the warmth of his skin in contrast to the smooth silk is intoxicating. I want to mouth over his cock, I want to pull the thin string away from his ass and absolutely devour him. I want hours of him dressed just like this until I turn him just as red as the fabric he’s wearing.
