When Rose felt Christopher's hands fist in her hair and slightly tug her head back, she followed where he was leading. The sensation made her weak and breathless. This heart-achingly beautiful man gazing back at her was sending Rose to the heights of delirium. His hand tightened in her hair, and it raised tiny bumps on her skin, making her body quiver.
"Chris," she whispered his name against his heated skin, once he stopped kissing her so fervently.
"Yes. my love?" his voice was dark and seductive as he unwillingly released her.
"I'm tired, and my chest still hurts." She whimpered.
Her body could no longer handle his onslaught of affection. Rose needed to rest, and she knew The Lord did too.
