Jonathan slid his palm upward, the rough calluses of a killer contrasting sharply with the softness of her skin. He felt her tremble a violent shudder that rippled through her entire body but he didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned down his lips grazing the shell of her ear.
"I can feel you shaking, Beryl," he whispered his voice a low, vibrating rumble. "Is it fear... or is it because you've never been touched like this?"
Beryl couldn't answer because her mind was a storm of contradictions. Every instinct told her to run from the man who killed for a living, but her body was betraying her with a traitorous, aching hunger. The heat between her legs had become a pulsing void, a desperate need that only he could fill. When his fingers finally found the damp heat of her p***y, she let out a
