My hand was trapped between his palm and the scorching heat of his skin. I could feel the blood jumping in his veins. It was thick, hard, and so heavy. My knees felt like they were made of jelly at that point. I tried to pull back, but he just tightened his grip, forcing me to stroke him.
"I... I have to go back, Mr. Miller," I whispered, my voice almost a pleading mess.
"Go back to what?" he rumbled. He turned me around in his arms but didn't let go of my hand. He kept it right there on him. "To a boy who doesn't know what to do with a woman like you? I heard you moan, but it wasn't as loud as you did this afternoon."
I swallowed hard. Was he eavesdropping on me and his son?
“You’re getting wet for me, Chloe. I can smell it."
"Stop," I gasped, but I didn't move.
He didn't listen. He
