KISAREL.
He leaned further and pressed his lips into the curve of my neck with a deliberateness that made my knees immediately unreliable.
"Ocean..."
"Don't." His mouth moved to just below my ear. "Don't think. It's still strictly professional. I won't hold it against you." He murmured like he knew that was the exact protest I had at the tip of my tongue.
He walked me back against the wall slowly, until the cold tile met my back and his body met my front and there was nowhere left to go, and nowhere I wanted to go anyway. His hands pulled at the towel I wrapped around my chest, and it gave way without resistance.
His mouth traced down my throat to my collarbone, and I stopped being capable of independent thought.
His fingers found my center, and I gasped so hard I choked on it.
I wa
