chapter 80

Anna The kiss stops being gentle when his hand touches my bare skin. It's like whatever has held him in place snaps, and he backs me into the dressing table. A soft grunt leaves his mouth as he hoists me against the surface and my back hits the mirror as the creams and oils scatter across the floors. "Sorry," he murmurs against my mouth. "I can't..." He breathes hard and cusses, yanking my gown down my torso. His lips slant over my neck and need streaks down my spine. My fingers twist in his shirt, the buttons popping as I try to get it off him. His hands are under my breasts cupping them, and a sound so deep and thick reverberates in his throat. Christ, that is hotter than it should be, and I'm making a fool of myself, struggling with his clothes. He pulls his hands off me for long enough to shrug off his shirt with ease, and I moan when my hands splay over his abs, tracing up to his chest and hard nipples. I pinch them and he bites my neck. My core heats, and I pinch them again