My voice gets lost somewhere between us as his control fractures and he drops to his elbows, so our noses are touching. “How bold of you to assume I feel anything,” he whispers against my lips. His alder wood scent slips into me like an intoxicating drug. I shudder at the touch but hold his gaze steadily. “One has little to assume when your weary eyes give you away.” His eyes rake over me, filled with desire and hunger.
