CHAPTER 9
ISLA
“You—ah—stop—”
Say you like it.
“I—” My voice shook. “I like it.”
Louder.
“I like it,” I whispered, shame and heat colliding in my chest.
His hands moved again, one snaking back up to squeeze my breast, the other slipping lower — under my coat, over my skirt.
“He’s—”
Touching you.
His palm cupped me from behind,...