Morgana kept her hips pressed against Damon's hand, guiding his fingers deeper into the damp cleft of her panties, where the sticky heat of her arousal engulfed them like a hungry vortex.
Her full lips parted in a low, lingering moan, the sound echoing in the confined space of the fitting room like a siren of lust.
She felt each callus of his calloused fingers brushing against her inner walls, stretching her, filling her with a delicious pressure that made her tremble.
But then, she stopped suddenly, pulling her hips away with a fluid, provocative movement, leaving his fingers slippery and lonely in the air.
Her golden eyes, still ablaze with desire, locked onto his with a mixture of amusement and feline cunning.
She licked her lips slowly, savoring the moment, while her hand—now free—slid down, tracing the rigid, throbbing line of his erection through his tight pants.
