I didn't stop. My other hand roamed higher—groping her breast through her shirt, thumb circling the stiff peak until she moaned low in her throat, body betraying her shyness with a full-body shudder.
"Let them come," I murmured against her lips, kissing her again—slower this time, but no less claiming—my fingers pinching her nipple just hard enough to make her yelp into my mouth.
"Let them see how much I love you… How much you need this… need me. You're not running anymore, Yuko. You're staying right here… in my arms… where you belong."
She whimpered—shy, afraid, but melting further—her resistance fading as emotions overwhelmed her: love blooming like fire in her chest, erasing the guilt piece by piece; desire making her wet and aching between her legs; fear of discovery heightening every touch, every kiss.
