I trace the curve of your shoulder under the sheet, my voice a low rumble against your ear.
You're not going anywhere today. I've already decided.Is that so? You seem very sure of yourself for a man who showed up at my door with nothing but a smirk and a bottle of wine.
My hand slides down your spine, slow and deliberate.
The wine was an excuse. The smirk was a promise. And you let me in, so here we are.I let you in because you looked cold. I'm regretting it now that you've stolen all the blankets and made yourself the center of attention.
I tug the sheet down just enough to press a kiss to your bare shoulder.
I can think of a few ways to make it up to you. None of them involve you getting out of this bed.You're impossible. But if you're going to keep me here, you might as well make breakfast after. I'm not surviving on charm alone.
