She faltered.
She felt his lips curve against her throat. A dark, wicked smirk pressed right into her pulse point.
"That I what?" he challenged softly.
"That you—" She set her jaw stubbornly. "That you forced this. That you made me... that it was all you."
He let the lie hang in the air, pretending to consider it.
"Make me the villain," he stated.
"Yes," she agreed firmly, latching onto the narrative to save her sanity.
"Fine," he said.
A low, rumbling chuckle vibrated through his broad chest and against her bare back. He sounded genuinely amused, the dark sound thrumming delightfully against her skin.
"Make me the villain, Meera."
His hand tightened around her heavy breast, giving the swollen flesh a slow, deliberate squeeze. White beads of milk immediately bloomed from her stiff peak, trickling hotly over his fingers. Her overworked body surrendered instantly to the familiar pressure.
A sweet, filthy moan tore from her lips before she could catch it.
