His voice was deep, edged with raw hunger.
Her lips parted, but before she could respond, his hands gripped her thighs, spreading them wider.
A gasp escaped her throat.
And then his mouth was on her.
A cry tore from her lips as hot, wet heat met her most sensitive spot, his tongue stroking, teasing, torturing.
Leila's back arched violently, her hands gripping the sheets as his tongue flicked over her already aching nub.
"Jayden—"
His grip tightened on her thighs, holding her down as she writhed beneath him. He was slow, deliberate, taking his time, driving her insane.
She could feel her own control slipping. Damn him.
His tongue swirled, licked, and sucked hard on her pussy—every touch perfectly calculated to unravel her.
And it was working.