Chapter 11

His attention never faltered. He busied himself with her jeans without abandoning his feast

Because that’s he was doing—glutting on her overheated skin, licking, biting, sampling all of her whether covered or bare.

She helped by lifting her hips to allow the space necessary to slide her jeans down her legs. They fell to the floor, forgotten, and while she knew she should feel self-conscious—nearly naked when he had yet to shed a single article of clothing—she was too aroused to care about silly recriminations. Her skin sang from his touch. It was liberating.

Simon sank to his knees, using his broad hands to spread her legs farther apart. Even she could smell her arousal. Her panties were wet with it. But her throat went tight when his nostrils flared and he leaned in to nudge against her covered clit.

“You’re going to taste even better than you smell,” he said.

“You’re teasing.”

“No.” He dragged his tongue along the silk, directly over her slit. “I’m making this last.”