The soft white couch in the center of Charles's living room had become a mess of tangled limbs, scattered clothes, and uneven breaths.
Kaija lay bare against the smooth leather, her sweater and bra abandoned somewhere on the floor beside the coffee table, forgotten the moment Charles had peeled them from her body.
Cool air drifted steadily from the humming air conditioner overhead, brushing across her exposed skin in featherlight waves. Goosebumps rose along her arms, her stomach, the soft curves of her breasts.
But one place remained entirely untouched by the cold.
Charles's mouth.
His warm, wet lips had not left her left breast for what felt like forever now, tongue circling the hardened peak with slow, deliberate devotion. Every flick of heat against the sensitive nub sent another helpless sound tumbling from Kaija's throat.
Her back arched instinctively off the couch.
