Abigail came to a standstill, staring at him.
Christopher also didn't say a thing, nor did he loosen his grip. His gaze swept across her face before resting on her lips. Her proximity, enchanting eyes, and pretty face sparked his desire. When she came to him willingly, he would not leave her.
"You were looking for me," he mumbled.
"Yes," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "You didn't return to the bedroom last night."
"You were upset with me," Christopher said after a few moments. "I assumed you preferred to be alone."
"You don't know what I want. You never tried to learn about it." She pouted.
"What do you want?" he asked hoarsely.
Her soft body was on his. On top of that, she was speaking in a low tone that sounded seductive.
He was losing control over himself. Lust had clouded his eyes, muddled his brain, and asked him to do the things he had never done with her.
