49.

I'll never forget how nervous yet excited I had felt that night. He was able to turn my mind off completely, and it really was just us, through to the morning.

And nothing else mattered.

"Dove, what -"

"Why haven't you touched me since I got here? Why have you been so distant?"

"I -"

But a groan escapes my lips when my thumb brushes over the sensitive bud, and he's silenced immediately.

He walks over to the bed, dropping the jacket he had held in his hands to the floor. His frame looked exquisite in the dimly lit room, underneath his white see-through shirt.

Which I needed off.

"Does it matter?" He crawls over to me, his knee spreading my legs even further, so that he could place himself between my thighs, and hover above me.

"No," I breathe out, and arch my back off the bed slightly, "I suppose it doesn't."

"But -"

"Theo," I pout, and lean up to kiss him on the lips. He doesn't pull away, but he doesn't necessarily go in for it either.