Chapter Twenty-Seven: Assumptions

Noah's hand reached down to grasp the bottom of my dress that stopped just above my knees and slowly began to pull it up to my thighs. His hand brushed over my skin so softly and gently that it spread goosebumps in its wake. Firmly, he pressed his hands between my legs, pushing them apart gently until he had the room he needed to touch the aching area. The thin panties I wore were no barrier against the heat of his skin as he began to tease and torment me.

My hips urgently thrust forward against his hand, desperate for more. It wasn't enough; it was no way near enough.

"Oh please... please, Sir. Will you please touch my... my... touch me?" I tried.

"Touch your what, precious? I am touching you," Noah said softly.

He moved his hand a bit as if to remind me where his hand was.

"My... my... you know what I'm asking, Sir," I whined in frustration.

"Yes... I do know what you are asking. But I want to hear you say the words, Rebecca," he told me.