137. When he touches you...

Vrinda Simard held her soft palm tighter.

"Your Grace."

"He was holding this palm."

"Please…"

"Shh…"

He leaned and breathed in her neck deeply. Jane Dover closed her eyes and tried to inhale as she was losing control of her senses. His masculine fragrance was mixed with the smell of alcohol.

"Jane… I don't like when he touches you."

"Your Grace…" She tried to push him but he pressed her onto the bed and kissed her passionately. 

She resisted. He did not let her go. Soon, she lost her senses and followed him. Her palms reached around his long neck and his palms reached her thighs. As soon as he slid her gown upwards, she gripped his wrist.

He looked at her deeply, "Jane…"

His hoarse voice was enough to drag her out of reality. But she maintained her courage.

"Don't do that." 

Vrinda Simard held her pretty small face in his palms.

"Get out."