Elias's lips traced a slow path from her jaw to the curve of her neck. She tilted her head slightly, her breath catching as warmth followed every point his mouth touched.
The baggy shirt she wore, soft, worn, too large for her frame—slipped slightly off one shoulder, exposing skin he hadn't planned to see. His fingers brushed the edge of the fabric, not to remove it, but to feel the contrast between cloth and skin. Loose fabric, tight space.
It made everything more sensitive.
His hand slid beneath the hem, fingers brushing the bare skin of her waist. She gasped, a quiet hitch of breath that was too real to fake. But even as her body leaned in, her eyes betrayed her. Wide, anxious… and full of something he hadn't expected.
Hope.
She wasn't just reacting to him. She was waiting… for someone else.
His lips paused against her neck, his breath hot against her skin. "You're hoping he'll feel this, aren't you?" he murmured, low and flat. "That he'll come back because of this."
