Chapter 3 - Friends’ Banter
’!’
"Who—!"
Arvia jerked forward instinctively, startled by the sudden voice that crashed into her like a hammer breaking through hazy memories. She lost her balance, stumbling toward the bed—almost crashing onto it—if not for the firm arm that wrapped around her waist and yanked her upward in time.
Her breath caught.
And then—
Grope.
A hand clutched at her right breast—not subtly, not softly, but boldly, pressing through the fabric of her nightgown and molding to her peak. Her eyes widened in electric shock. Her body tensed as heat rushed through her face.
"Haah... Wh-Who?!"
She blurted the word out purely out of reflex, overwhelmed by panic—but before she could even finish the breath, her voice was muffled. Her face was pulled forward—suddenly, rudely—into a solid, muscular chest. Her lips and nose pressed flat against firm pecs.
Warm. Familiar. Strangely scented.
Her voice died there.