He takes the rock of her body as an invitation, his hands starting to move upwards along her sides as the fabric of her shirt gathers against his wrists.
"It's allowed," he says. It's not giving in, or permission; just simple, plain desire. "Wanted. God, Alex, so much."
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"It's allowed," he says. It's not giving in, or permission; just simple, plain desire. "Wanted. God, Alex, so much."