"What if �.?"
I told you I love you, he wanted to say, his breath hitching when he was being positioned. Skilled hands on his legs, lifting them unhurriedly. Fingers running along the inside of his thighs, lightest of touches.
"What if � what?" Viggo asked, eyes half-lidded, smiling indolently. "Tell me, Orlando."
So intense that aquamarine gaze, hypnotizing him, pinning him down on the bed, helpless, gasping.
And one by one the words trailed off into nothingness. Stupid, he was so stupid. But clever enough to realize that Viggo wouldn't want to hear these words from him.
Never.
Ever.
