Heady from the wine and a little from the warmth enveloping me, I wiggle a little more into Theo, who hisses in my ear. I stop and look behind me. "I'm sorry, I was getting comfortable. Did it hurt?"
Theo clears his throat lightly. "Not in the way you think," he chuckles, and I feel him move a little behind me. With his arm draped over my waist and his leg resting over my hip, I wonder if he is comfortable.
"Why did you say to get in this position?" I question him as his hand plays with my nightdress by my stomach. I know it is habitual, and he doesn't realise what he is doing. But the light touches, the movement of the fabric warms me. I'm so sensitive again, but it's not that all-consuming, overwhelming need that pulsed through me under Eryx's touch.
