Her Dirty Little Games
BAD BOY
Her thighs trembled against my hand, squeezing me there like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to trap me or shove me away.
I didn’t give her the choice.
My fingers slid higher, past the hem, finding the thin lace that barely covered her. The sharp breath she sucked in was all the invitation I needed.
“God…” she gasped.
“Not God,” I murmured, pressing harder. “Me.”
The heat of her pulsed through the fabric, wet already. My grin spread. “So much for being untouched.”