During the drive, Damian kept his hold on mine except when we needed to stop because of traffic lights or jams. He would try to make my cleavage less pronounced, moving the neckline closer or pushing my breasts to the sides.
“Stop it, Damian. You are going to ruin my dress and my breasts,” I told him as I swatted his hands away.
“God saves my soul and every other bastard’s soul who’s going to ogle you,” he muttered under his breath as he stopped trying to fix my cleavage. I smiled at his words. They reminded me of the time when we went to the masquerade party six years ago.
“What are you smiling at, Baby girl? Do you like putting me in this position?” he snapped as he saw me smiling.
Instead of getting annoyed or angry with him, my smile widened into an ear-to-ear grin. I did love seeing him being this possessive. He suddenly pulled my hand and placed it on his crotch. Guess what? Oh yeah, he was hard!
