EMBER’S POV

Not when I press closer and roll my hips against him in a slow, filthy grind, rubbing the bare heat of my pussy against the thick, hard line of his cock through his trousers.

Not when his hands slide down to grip my waist tighter. Not when I take one of his wrists and guide his palm under the hem of the slip, higher and higher, until his fingers brush bare skin.

He goes still for half a second.

Then his fingers slide between my legs and find nothing but slick, bare heat.

A low, rough groan rips out of his chest and straight into my mouth when...