And that’s when I catch my reflection. I had lipstick smeared right across my face like a prostitute at the end of her shift. Of course, I had to go fix this straight away, but as soon as I walk into my room, Anthony’s there, scattering rose petals on our bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Being romantic.” He said, as he wrapped his arms around my waist. “Happy birthday, Ella.” Before I could impassion my thoughts, I was locked into a kiss, pushing against his warmth. Each kiss brought about new struggles for balance until eventually, we settled on the edge of the bed. Eager, he began tracing my body gently with the tip of his index finger, lining my jaw, my neck, my collarbones, my breast, until it caught on the loose draping of my dress. “Let’s get this off you.” His voice gravelled through the depths of his throat, bringing forth a rich, seductive whisper as he lifted himself, allowing me to sit up and undress.