Chapter 95 – Self-control

• I’m panting, gasping really as Jackson presses me flat against the wall of rock, both of his hands under my shirt now, his palms a damn song against my skin as they press up over my ribs, as they move slow over my flesh like they’re trying to ensure that I’m here, that I’m real.
• And suddenly, quite suddenly, I realize that I do not at all want to be wearing this shirt anymore. That I don’t want to be wearing anything – that all I want in the entire world –
• No, not want – need –