Forty-three
"I don’t like it when you disobey me or you are being disrespectful," he murmurs against my ear with a squeeze of my butt. I lift my head from the crook of his neck to stare at him. "It drives me crazy with the need to punish you and I can’t help it sometimes."
"We won’t always agree on everything," I say while caressing the scar at the nape of his neck and he goes rigid for a second. I litter kisses all over his jaw until he relaxes, then reciprocate the smile on his face. He urges me to continue, I nod and pucker my lips.
I have a strong suspicion his statement has something to do with my reaction to our last argument in France, I am not the best version of myself when I’m upset. He slides his index finger down my lower lip, I smile and give him a peck which earns me a chuckle.