If Simon hits that spot inside of me one more time, I’ll scream loud enough for pedestrians to hear on the street. No matter that my own mother and brother are somewhere in this building, maybe wandering into earshot; no matter that sounds carry in old, empty buildings like this, and every gasp, every moan is potentially the one that will get us caught.
Don’t care. Can’t think. Can’t do anything except roll my hips and tug on his thick hair and pant blindly at the ceiling.
Oh. My. God.
Okay, now I get it. I understand why everyone’s so happy to slink away on masquerade night, shedding their clothes with strangers in the gardens. Because this is the best damn thing I’ve ever felt, and I never want it to end. Even if we get caught, even if this sets Simon back to square one, I can’t make
