"One more?" William asked, his voice laced with a quiet desperation, his eyes burning with an unspoken longing. The question hung in the air, a tender thread that connected them, pulsing with anticipation.
Dahlia felt the reverberations of his words deep within her, the understanding of what he meant igniting a swirl of desires that threatened to consume her. Good Lord, how could she be so turned on by that simple question? She bit her lower lip, stalling on purpose, as if considering what answer to give him. But in reality, she was fighting to maintain a semblance of control, her own desires raging like a tempest within her.
She wanted to punish him, to make him anticipate her response, to leave him dangling in the uncertainty of her answer. But her own longing was killing her, her body aching for his touch, her lips yearning for his kiss. She couldn't keep stalling, couldn't keep pretending that she didn't want what he offered.
