As I leaned back on his chest, Luther’s arms wrapped tightly around me like he wasn’t planning to ever let go. He kept kissing me...my cheeks, my lips, even my forehead. His mouth roamed my skin like he was claiming it, marking every inch with his need.
“Oh my God, Luther, that’s enough,” I groaned, half-laughing, half-annoyed. “Your mouth reeks of cigarettes. Damn it.”
I pinched his chest playfully, still straddling him, my legs locked on both sides of his torso.
“Really?” he muttered.
“Okay, sorry...” I rolled my eyes. “You can continue. Since you’re already getting moody, go on. Let those kisses scar my face, I don’t care.”
He chuckled. “Funny.”
But then I noticed him stretching to the drawer beside the bed. He pulled it open and took out a pack of cigarettes.
“Are you seriously
