“Is this okay,” he whispered.
“Shhh,” I said back to him, keeping my eyes closed. “Don´t talk.”
His mouth returned to mine, our tongues seeking the other, like children playing a familiar game. His hand moved from my thigh to my waist, gliding underneath my shirt and towards my breasts. My nipples were erect already, and his touch was soft and gentle, like he always was. Lawrence was never rough with me in bed, not like Erik and Beate. Sometimes I criticized him for this lack of aggression in the past, my sexual apetite always seeming to be greater than his, more insatiable. Perhaps this was why we were splitting up, ultimately; maybe we were just never going to be a good match i