I pressed my palms against the brick, my breath coming in short gasps. The rough texture bit into my skin, grounding me, making this real.
Behind me, I heard the rustle of fabric, the slide of a zipper. Then Blake's hands were on me, hiking my dress up around my waist, bunching the silk at my hips.
His fingers hooked into the thin fabric of my underwear, and with one sharp pull, it snapped against my skin before tearing free from my body. I gasped at the sting, the sound cracking through the night. I was exposed.
His hand smoothed over my skin, then lower, his fingers sliding through my folds, gathering the slick evidence of my need.
"Jesus Christ," he breathed, his voice strained. "You're f*****g soaked. Did making me hard on that dance floor turn you on this much?"
It had been a tur
