“No,” I hiss, slipping down in my seat and parting my legs as wide as they will go. “No, I’m not good at all.” “What’s the matter, princess?” He asks the question so innocently, like he doesn’t know that his teasing touch is threatening to destroy me, and I gasp when his hand slips up even further, so now he really is touching me. Idle fingers resting against the lips of my pulsing sex.
