"We're not going anywhere."
Camilla swallowed hard, her gaze flicking toward the student sitting nearby in the waiting area.
He was oblivious.
Completely unaware of the sinful game unfolding just a few feet away.
But Arthur?
Arthur knew exactly what he was doing.
His touch was light, deliberate—fingertips teasing the edge of her panties.
Camilla's grip tightened on the counter.
She squeezed her thighs together, desperately clinging to the last shred of control she had left.
But Arthur's touch—so casual, so maddeningly confident—was driving her wild.
Arthur's fingers dipped lower.
Just enough to slip under the waistband.
The first brush of skin against skin sent a shiver through her, her breath hitching.
She bit her lip harder, trying so desperately to suppress the heat flooding her body.
His touch explored, featherlight but unrelenting, teasing the sensitive spot just above her folds.