One of his hands leaves my thigh and slides across my cheek, where it pauses briefly before tucking my hair behind my ear. “I like when you do that.” My voice is thick and extra raspy. “I know.” He smiles softly up at me. “How do you know?” “Because, you hold your breath every time I do.” My chest cramps. “Is that why you do it? Because I like it?” Say no... “No.” He grins. “I started to because it was the only gentle thing you’d allow. Then,” his eyes roam around my face, “I had to keep doing it because I needed to feel your skin against mine. And now...” He runs his fingers down the length
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