I whimper because it feels so sensual. So delicious.
His hand slips lower, slowly, as if he’s waiting to see how I’ll react. I should push him away. I consider it–I do. But everything in my body seems to want this. I’m melting back into him, drugged by his delicious scent, the sexy rumble of his voice, his intense focus all on me.
He cups my s*x over the thin fabric of my peasant skirt. It’s a light touch, undemanding. More of an offer than a violation.
My n*****s pebble up. My body relaxes more against his, my tension swirling into an agonized coil in my s*x.
I should have stopped to put on a suit of armor if I didn't want him touching me like this. It's dangerous not because he's big and can overpower me with one hand but because his touch feels good, and I like it.
He lightly trace
