I'm not sure when we reached his room or how I ended up against the door while his hands worked up the back of my dress.
But I'm not complaining.
His fingertips trail against my skin when he finally reaches the zipper, he pulls it down agonizingly slow. The tips of his fingers trailing behind along the now exposed skin.
My breath comes out in pants as his lips find the skin of my shoulders, moving up the length of my neck, slowly, reverently, like a man savoring a meal. It's delicious t*****e but only serves to fan the flames that have already ignited within me. Impatience gnaws at me and I grab his face, pressing my lips to his, pushing him back further into the room.
My dress is loose and I'm very nearly exposed to him, but aside from his shirt that my fingers had been working to
