“I shouldn’t accept your love,” he said between soft, drugging kisses, his fingers working at the sash of her dressing gown, his lips on the soft skin of her neck. “I’ll never be good enough for it.” He paused, lifting his head, meeting her eyes. “But Christ, I want it.” “It’s yours,” she said, leaning up and catching his bottom lip in her teeth, sucking at it until he groaned his pleasure and gave her the kiss she desired. “As am I.” He cursed, the word a benediction in this, and released the belt of her dressing gown. “I’ve never seen you naked,” he said, working at the pearls of the
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