I see through his eyes as he watches me, focusing on the way my arm moves, his gaze shifting upwards to admire, of all things, my fingers.
I drag them slowly along the row of books, using the tips to caress the spines. Stopping at one, I stroke the claret leather, then pull it a little way out of the case. I wrap my hand around it and move my palm slowly up and down the length.
He ponders his arousal, and I hear him chuckle aloud. I turn, a smirk on my lips.
“Edward,” he says. “You’re teasing me.”