Nia’s Pov
The words hung between us, thick with promise, my body thrumming with need as his fingers lingered so close to my entrance. I could feel the damp lace of my panties clinging to my swollen lips, every breath making them shift against my clit. Just as I parted my lips to whisper something reckless. maybe a dare to touch me, footsteps approached our table.
The waiter materialized from the shadows of the restaurant, notepad in hand, his face a mask of polite efficiency. “Ready to order?” he asked, eyes flicking between us.
Rowan didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull away. Instead, his hand stayed firm on my thigh, and I felt the subtle slide of his fingers hooking the edge of my panties, tugging them aside with deliberate slowness. The cool air hit my exposed p***y, slick and aching, and
