Evelyn POV
"Look at me," she says.
And I do.
I can barely breathe, barely think. My eyes lock with hers, and I feel like I'm standing on the edge of something I can't name. My cheeks are flushed, skin overheated. It's daylight. We're in a moving carriage. Every part of this is reckless—and I've never felt more alive.
The carriage jolts over uneven road and I nearly fall forward, but her arm holds me steady, pressing me flush against her body.
Her hand trails slowly down my waist, grazing the curve of my stomach, lower, until—
She drags her fingers through slick heat and lifts them up.
"Look at this," she murmurs, lifting her hand so I can see it glisten in the dim carriage light.
"Aren't you excited? Being so wet… in broad daylight?"
I cover my face, mortified.
She chuckles low in her throat.
"So shy now, Duchess?" she teases, pressing her body closer, knee braced between my legs as she leans in to kiss the corner of my mouth.
"But you weren't shy a moment ago."
