![]() ![]() I didn’t care-not as he dragged that finger down the center of me. “Or I could start here,” he said, the words guttural and raw. His head dipped, hair sliding over his brow as he watched-we both watched-his broad finger venture down. I couldn’t think beyond that single finger, that one point of contact as it drifted lower and lower, to where I wanted him. ![]() He drew patterns on my stomach, scanning my face as he purred, “Or …” ![]() I was shaking now, barely able to keep standing as his finger continued past my breast. He paused there, flicking it once, then smoothed his thumb over the small hurt. I couldn’t help myself from closing my lips around him, from flicking my tongue against the pad of his finger.īut Rhys withdrew his finger with a soft groan, making a downward path. “Or I could start here,” he breathed, slipping the tip of his finger into my mouth. He traced the shape of my lips, a whisper of touch. And just before his finger reached the tip of my breast, just before he gave me what I was about to beg for, his finger slid upward-to my chest, my neck, my chin. He noted the movement, that dark smile growing. He lifted a finger, and my breath came hard and fast as he idly circled one of my breasts, then the other. Not when Rhys’s answering smile was a dark, cruel thing. ![]() “Ready for ravishing.” My words didn’t come out with the swagger I’d intended. ![]()
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