Portia
"Do you ever just shut up?" he growls the question into my mouth before he kisses me so hard, all I can do is suck in his whiskey breath and feel his soft lips. “You shouldn't have come down here," he says, kissing me harder, pushing my pants down just far enough that they slip off my hips and pool around my ankles. “You're going to make me do things you don't want me to do."
My eyelids fly open to find his eyes on me as he slips his hand between my legs and cups the crotch of my panties.
I gasp.
We stand there like that for a long minute just staring at each other. My hands rest on his chest but don't push him away. He's about an inch from my face, barely, and he looks f****d up. Not angry.
Something else. Just messed up.
“You shouldn't have come down here," he growls again.
