"Sorry, okay?"
Lira's lips pouted, but it only made her look more beautiful. Her cheeks were a fierce red, her dark eyes half-lidded, the fierce, sharp woman replaced by someone vulnerable, needy. Her fingers stroked him through the fabric, feeling his heat, his throbbing pulse. Her pout deepened. "Sorry isn't enough…"
Mikhailis couldn't help but stare, his heart racing. Her elegant beauty, her flawless composure cracked, her long black ponytail swaying with her every shuddering breath, her dark maid uniform still pristine, the silver trim catching the faint light of the lantern. Yet beneath that prim, perfect appearance, she was trembling, burning, desperate.
He leaned in, capturing her lips again. "Then I'll make it up to you." His tongue slipped between her lips, and this time she didn't hesitate. Her tongue danced with his, their breaths mingling, their moans swallowed by each other's mouths.
