“Perhaps if my lord were to be descriptive?” She brushed a fingertip over his mouth. “Of course, what you were doing is fine too.”
”Oh? Descriptive?” he asks, kissing across her jaw. “Maybe some more prompting might work.”
She groaned and rolled over on top of him, cupping his face in both hands and locking her mouth to his. There was that spark again, of their magic coming together. It was no wonder no one else had ever captured her heart. She bit his lip, then breathed, “Tell me what you see when you look at me, as if you were telling someone else.”