Meera~

He gently rolled my hard nipple under his thumb, and a soft, low moan escaped from my throat. He was still on my chest, trailing his fingers over my arm, planting feathery kisses on my chest.

My hand itched to run my fingers through his mass of brown wavy curls, but I restrained myself from doing it because that would mean I had lost control when I had not.

Control is the only power I have right now, in me. Even though the thread of control is wearing out with each passing day.

I don't want to control myself; I want to lose myself in his touch, but I...