Ross's hands slid over Ella's body with a slow, deliberate hunger, mapping every curve as though he were memorizing her shape.
His palms lingered on her hips, glided over her waist, then traveled up the sides of her body in a way that made her breath hitch.
Every brush of his fingertips sent a trail of goosebumps racing across her skin, the sensation so sharp and electric it felt like her body was reacting faster than her mind could keep up.
She let out a shaky breath, trying to hide just how much his touch was affecting her, but it was useless.
The crowd, the music, the lights—all of it blurred until there was only Ross, his heat, his scent, and the way his hands owned her.
He pulled her closer, closing the gap between them until there was no space left at all.
That was when she felt it—thick, long, and hard—pressing firmly against her lower belly through the layers of fabric between them.
Her body reacted instantly, a rush of heat pooling deep inside her.
