Yet even while awe coursed through him, a small part of him bristled in annoyance. The top of her sweater was dragged down—yes, but the bottom edge still clung stubbornly beneath her breasts, bunching under the curves like a barrier mocking him.
He lifted his gaze to her face, his expression a mix of admiration and irritation.
"Why stop there?" He asked, voice hoarse but playful, eyes flicking from her exposed cleavage to the knitted fabric clinging beneath. "Why not just take it all off? Why slip it down like this when I want to see you properly, without anything in the way?"
At that, her blush deepened, and she shook her head quickly. "I...I can't do that." She muttered, her tone small but stubborn. "The sweater doesn't just cover the top half. It covers...all of me."
"All of you?" Cassius frowned.
"Yes." She huffed, her embarrassment spiking as she fumbled for words. "It covers my...my secret places too."
