But just as Carmela finally let herself sink into that warmth, just as her muscles loosened and her breathing evened out—she felt his hands change.
They didn't stop.
They traveled.
Slowly, Cassius's palms slid lower along the curve of her back, fingers drifting down her spine, thumbs tracing the slope of her sides.
At first she didn't react, too wrapped up in the comfort of it, the way his touch grounded her, until suddenly she realized where those hands were heading.
Too low.
Far too low.
His fingers brushed the top of her hips.
Then dipped.
His fingertips brushed the waistband of her skirt, slipped beneath it, and went just inside her underwear, sinking into the soft, firm flesh of her ass.
Carmela jolted like she'd been shocked.
"Stop—stop, stop, stop!" She gasped, pulling away sharply, eyes wide with alarm. "What are you doing?! Why are you going down there?!"
Cassius blinked at her, genuinely confused.
