"You're crazy," Avery hisses.
She turns her head and bites his upper arm, tasting his damp skin. He groans, but he doesn't pull away. She bites harder until he gasps with pain.
"Do you want it rough?" he asks her.
Before she can answer, he kisses her neck. He brushes his lips down to her collarbone and gently nibbles on the skin. He trails kiss up to her jaw, sucking lightly. She moans and squirms against him, feeling desire build between her legs.
"I haven't left any marks yet, but if you don't cooperate, I might," he says. "Do you think Andrew will like seeing hickeys on his fiancé?"
"Wait, no, don't touch me," Avery says. "We can't. Andrew is just outside the door—he'll hear us."
