Page 100 - Anonymous
P. 100
through me. His grip on my waist
tightens as my body molds against his
taut frame. His kiss is gentle but
possessive. He pulls away, his tongue
swiping over my lower lip. His hand
slips between the folds of my gown, and
he palms my breast, going in for another
kiss. The events of the morning bring me
back to the present.
"You're going to be late." I say
breathlessly, pushing against his chest.
