He wrapped his hands firmly around her waist, pressing her against the cool surface of a cobblestone path. Then, his body melded against hers almost seamlessly. For a moment, Chloe was utterly bewildered.
In her eyes, Connor had always been frail, a delicate Trophy Boy with seemingly no strength at all. When did he become capable of effortlessly neutralizing her resistance and pinning her down to the point where she couldn't move?
Chloe tried to resist, reaching out. But her hands were trapped by his, pressed against her own waist and the cobblestone, utterly immovable. It was evident how much force he was exerting over her. But of course, Chloe wouldn't just give up. She struggled desperately, trying to free her hands.
"Stop moving, or I won't be responsible for what happens next," Connor's voice was deep and hoarse, brimming with a desire that Chloe found all too familiar. Suddenly, Chloe regained her composure, realizing the predicament she was in.
Both she and Connor were scantily clad, half their bodies exposed to the air, the other half obscured by the shadows of the night. And at this moment, Connor's body was pressed tightly against hers. Their skin touched, sending temperatures soaring uncontrollably. It was an almost instinctive physical reaction. Chloe could feel Connor's body burning against hers like a red-hot iron. His breathing became more and more labored.
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