He pushed my dress up around my waist and hooked his fingers into the elastic band of my underwear. The air condensed into something thin and infinitely flammable. “What are you doing?” “Eating dessert.” Christian eased my hips up so he could pull my underwear down before he returned to his seat. “You don’t like dessert.” My voice had gone to smoke, as insubstantial as the remnants of my resistance. Christian’s slow, answering smile throbbed in my blood. “I changed my mind.”
