Finally, he rose back to his feet, stumbling slightly, unable to take his horrified eyes off of her. ‘You’re her… Sasha Hrelle!’ He glanced in...angry disbelief at the others, as if in disbelief that they could be so calm about it. ‘The daughter of that traitor!’ She knew he was going to say it – other cadets had said as much, or similar, and lived to regret it – and she was already leaping to her feet and kicking aside her chair with a loud crash. Her fists balled at her sides, and her teeth. She knew the exact moment he discovered how wet she’d become because he growled deep in his throat. He teased her slick folds while his lips played over hers. Gemma sank her hand into his hair and reached out for her husband with her other hand. She heard him slide closer on the seat then his fingers intertwined with hers. Simon circled her swollen nub, spreading her moisture with the pad of his thumb. Gemma gripped his hair and kissed him roughly, desperate now for more. He pushed two fingers. More

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