Sinful Desires: Spicy Short Stories
All I can think about is how easy it would be for him to reach down, tilt my chin up, and claim my mouth.
He watches me read—or pretend to—in silence for a moment, his breathing steady and controlled.
Then, as I flip to the second page, his fingers "accidentally" graze my forearm.
It’s a light, lingering skim that sends a bolt of electricity shooting straight to my core.
I jolt, a small gasp escaping my lips, and he doesn't pull away. Instead, his thumb traces a lazy, possessive circle on my skin before retreating.
Heat floods my cheeks, and I feel my nipples tighten painfully against the lace of my bra.
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