Ryan didn't give her a second to register the shift in gravity.
He gripped the slick, wet mess on her hand and used it, spreading the heat between his own palms before sliding his hands directly up the smooth, bare stretch of her thighs.
The midnight blue silk of her dress bunched at her waist.
Zara gasped, her hands flying up to brace against his shoulders as he pulled her forward, dragging her off the cushion until she was kneeling on the floor between his spread legs.
"Ryan," she breathed, her eyes widening as the cold air hit the damp, burning heat between her legs.
He didn't answer. He parted her thighs, slipping his slick fingers directly against her core. She was soaking. The slickness of his own fluid mixed with her heavy, pooling arousal, creating a frictionless, electric heat.
He pressed a single finger inside her tight, untouched entrance.
Zara's head snapped back.
