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Chapter Thirteen
Dalma's POV His hands grabbed me by the waist, keeping me steady on my feet by sheer strength…. He spoke to me in a silky voice, phrases flowing into themselves. “May I?” He asked, holding a button of my shirt in between his fingers. My breath came out in fast, harsh exhales. I nodded, unable to form words, agreeing to whatever he was asking. “I need you to use your words, Miss Millie,” he murmured. I grew wetter with every word, I could feel myself dripping. “I'm asking you again, May I?” His eyes locked on mine, waiting. “Yes, yes, please,” I replied with a voice I could have sworn wasn't mine. “Good girl,” he replied, unbuttoning my shirt with deliberate slowness. I was enveloped by his scent, his voice, his essence. He held my chin softly like he was holding delicate fine
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