The words weren't loud but my knees forgot how to work. Heat shot through me, sharp, dizzying, like my body forgot how to be upright. The hallway spun just a fraction from the awareness of him being so close, his hands firm on my waist, his breath brushing my skin. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady, trying to keep the tremble out of it. "What?" I managed, then had to try again because my throat went dry, "You don't like being praised?" His grip tightened just slightly, enough to remind me he was there, enough to make my stomach do gymnastics again. "I do..." he said, still close, still rough, "But I might like it too much when it comes from you..." That sentence, Gods that sentence! It sent another pulse of heat that pooled low in my stomach. Because it implied that he wanted to do something else. Something worse. Something that would make my bratty little jokes turn into real consequences. My palms pressed more firmly against his chest without me meaning to,
最後更新 : 2026-04-04
