The interior of the sedan was a sanctuary of leather and dim ambient lighting. Outside, the city blurred into a smear of gold and white lights as the driver navigated the winding streets of the financial district.
Elias didn't waste time. He reached over, his fingers finding the hem of the emerald dress once more. He didn't bunch it up this time; he slid the fabric up slowly, inch by inch, his eyes locked on Clara’s.
"You're still shaking," he noted.
"I'm not shaking," she lied, though her thighs were trembling uncontrollably. "I'm... vibrating."
"Is that so?" Elias murmured. He reached the lace of her stockings and paused, his fingers tracing the intricate pattern. "You look so proper in these. So sophisticated."
"Stop talking and do something," Clara whispered, her voice thick with
