Diana's P. O. V
West had me against the wall, his leg blocking me from moving away from him, his hands on both of my hips, pinning me down.
My cheeks burned when his breath fell on my face, we were breathing the same air at that moment and it stirred my insides.
He leaned in, one of his hands snaking up from my hip to the side of my face cupping my cheek, his thumb gently stroking it.
Why did I not get out of here? Why was I enjoying what he was doing to me? Why was his touch kinder, softer than Michael's?. Michael would have pressed his lips to mine by now, and start stroking my thighs. But here we were, was West actually trying to please ME?.
He looked down at me, with gentle eyes, his thumb caressing my cheek, then my nose, fondling with it. Till his thumb got to my lips, he slightly parted my mouth, letting his thumb touch my tongue, wetting his. He used his wet thumb to caress my lower lip, while his other hand slowly caressed my hip, making circles.
