A scrap of sinful black against the pale glow, delicate yet damning, clinging to the lush curve of her ass like a confession etched in shadow.
The sight hit me like a physical blow—a sledgehammer strike straight to my solar plexus, detonating southward, hardening me instantly against the pajama's not-so-helpful restraint. It was unintentional, innocent in her quest for warmth, but the effect was devastating, catastrophic.
Smooth, cool skin met the fever-flayed surface of my hip where she pressed—a jolt of pure voltage, undiluted sensation that heated my already overloaded nerve endings. Every synapse fired at once, white-hot and desperate.
A low sound rumbled in my chest—not quite a chuckle, not quite a groan, but something raw and ragged, thick with the sound of shredding restraint. I wrapped my free arm around her, my hand branding itself to the bare skin of her lower back, my fingertips deliberately hovering just above the dangerous dip of her spine.
Millimeters.
