Michael's POV
I forced myself to forget about Reagan completely. This was my moment, and nothing would steal it from me.
I pressed heated kisses along her chest, my lips tracing the gentle curve of her cleavage. When her breathing stuttered, I knew I had her attention. Her skin burned beneath my mouth, flushed with desire that matched my own.
Looking up at her, lightning struck through me when I realized the truth. No bra. Her peaks pressed against the thin black material, revealing exactly how much she craved this.
Raw hunger tore through my body.
I couldn't wait another second.
I captured one nipple through the fabric, letting my teeth scrape against it before biting down enough to draw a whimper from her lips. The sound mixed pain with pleasure perfectly. My tongue followed, soothing the tender spot with slow, worshipful strokes.
Her fingers twisted into my hair, torn between dragging me closer and pushing me away.
"Stop this," she whispered, her voice trembling.
