He pushes me gently onto the bed, face down. The dress rides up immediately, cool air brushing over my bare pussy. I can feel how exposed I am. How ready my body already is. Kane’s hand slides up the back of my thigh, slow and possessive, until his fingers brush against my soaked folds.

“Already dripping,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? All these years pretending you didn’t notice the way I looked at you.”

I don’t answer. I can’t. His fingers tease my entrance, spreading my wetness, then he pulls them away. I hear the sound of his belt, his zipper. The bed...