When Desire Becomes A Sin
He rose from his chair, slowly, deliberately, closing the space between us, but I didn’t flinch.
I didn’t step back. I had spent a month learning him, discovering the way he reacted, the subtle nuances of his desire. I had learned that teasing him could be just as intoxicating for me as surrendering had been.
He stopped just short of me, the heat radiating off his body. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he murmured, his voice low and measured, but edged with something sharper, hungrier.
“And you love it,” I countered softly, brushing my hand along his chest. “Because you can’t resist me.”
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