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“This is our life. Your life.”
“I can’t accept that answer yet. And you know why.”
Cullen touches my chin.
I turn my head.
I look out the window again.
“You’re looking for him, love,” Cullen whispers. “You’re like a dog waiting for their master to come home.”
“I’m not the dog here,” I whisper.
“Then who is the master?” Cullen asks.
By the time I try to look at him again - meaning I look up to find his comforting eyes - he’s no longer there.
Cullen moves fast.
Way too fast.
I have to look down.
Cullen is on one knee in front of me.
It’s not what you’re thinking.
There’s no proposal of marriage.
Fuck no.
But he is proposing something else.
His hands lift my shirt just enough to expose a sliver of skin.
The tip of his tongue slides along my belly, just above the top of my jeans.
It’s like he can sense Archer pleasured me.
Now he wants his turn.
And by all means, I am not going to stop him.
The only time I feel whole is when I feel pleasure.
The only time I can forget about this Seth situation is when I feel pleasure.
Cullen opens my jeans.
His fingers curl around my panties. My jeans.
He pulls.
I quickly slide my hands against my hips, pushing my jeans and panties down.
Helping him.
Wanting to feel him.
