His body melds to mine, the heat sparking into electricity between us, and the moment his hard c**k brushes my aching core, I moan and lift my hips. I need the contact, need his touch. Finally, after what seems like years, his hand slides down the front of my panties.
“Yes,” I beg, arching into his touch. His fingers circle my c**t, sending stars flying through my vision as I cry out at the pleasure. Ethan’s touch is hot and pulls an embarrassing whine from me as I beg him to touch me.
But he pulls back, watching me.
“Do you want this, Fiona? I don’t want you to feel like you have to have s*x with me because of our contract or because I stood up for you,” he says. I barely find my way back through the haze, but his words have a hesitant, almost fearful tone.
Shaking myself out of t
