AllFreeNovel
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I place a hand over his chest. “I’m a virgin.”
“I think it’s time you stopped being one.”
I suck in breath as he lowers his weight onto me.
I’ve never felt as small or cute or as feminine as I do now under this man. His long, elegant fingers part the hair on myforehead, and his eyes lock with mine as he dips his head, tilting it slightly.
I’m sure he’ll kiss me.
Butterflies in my belly unfurl their wings as if hovering over the flower they want to land on, and I close my eyes, waiting, anticipating.
When nothing happens, I open my eyes.
Severio appears serious. Deadly so. Then he sits back, kneeling between my legs. His gaze roams my body, and I become aware of what he might be seeing, namely my thick thighs, since the dress has ridden all the way up to my waist.
Swallowing, I try to push the dress over my thighs.
He taps my wrist, making me stop.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
My face burns. “Nothing.”
“Covering yourself while lying in my bed is not nothing.”
I go on the offensive. “You were supposed to kiss me.”
“I changed my mind.”
Ouch. Wha… Damn, I don’t know what to say to that. “Why?” I wince. I really don’t want to know.
“What’s with all the questions?” Now he’s on the offensive.
“Why the change of mind?” I slide farther down the rabbit hole. “If you didn’t like what you saw, you shouldn’t have brought me here.”
“What?” He narrows his eyes. “You think I don’t like what I see?”
“I don’t look like one of your fuck toys.”
“Correct.”
“Come on, Severio.” I try to sit up, but he won’t let me move. “Fine. You’re a perceptive man. You must know I’m self-conscious about my body. Especially around you. You’re so…so annoyingly well sculpted.”
“You think I’m well sculpted?” he asks.
“No,” I tell him playfully because he’s a flirty jerk who disarms me in seconds, and I’m helpless. Knowing all this, I should leave. Yet I remain because I can’t not want him. And I don’t want to talk about my body or talk about anything at all. I just want him to kiss me. Or tell me to get out. Or something, anything besides stare at me the way he does.
As if he’s debating whether he wants to do this or not. It’s unlike him to look indecisive, which makes me nervous and self-conscious.
I try to fix my dress my again, and now he clasps my wrists and holds them in one hand.
“You try covering up again, and I’ll hog-tie you and make you spend the night with your ass in my face. You understand me?”
I picture that. For an insane moment, I consider not keeping my hands to myself.
“I would never comment on your weight,” he says. “I take offense knowing you think I would. Such petty cruelty is beneath me. If you are in my bed, I want to fuck you. Is that not enough?”
“I was in your bed on my wedding night.”
