"M-Mikhailis…" she whispered, barely a breath.
He swallowed. "It's a… natural reaction."
But he couldn't tear his gaze away, his pulse racing, his breath growing faint and shallow. And in the close, heated darkness of the locker, he saw her lips part slightly, a faint, tremulous quiver.
Rhea's heart pounded in her chest like a war drum, each beat echoing in her ears, drowning out the muffled sounds of the noblewomen outside the locker. Her breaths came fast and shallow, her silver-blue eyes locked on the dark shadow between them, where the thick, heated length of Mikhailis pressed insistently against her thigh.
It was too close—too thick, too hot, and every tiny shift sent a faint, electric thrill up her spine. Calm down. You can't… not here. Not now. But her own body betrayed her, warmth blooming low in her belly, a slick heat pooling between her thighs. Her breaths grew ragged, and she struggled to control herself.
