I leaned in and kissed her—slow and deliberate, just a brush of my tongue over the place that wine had touched.
She tasted like tangy fruit and sin and something I hadn’t let myself want.
Her breath hitched. The glass tilted slightly in her hand.
“You taste like trouble,” I murmured, my voice gone rough.
Selene’s gaze dropped to my mouth. “And you taste like good decisions I shouldn’t make.”
I took the glass from her hand and set it on the counter.
Then I dipped my head. “What if I want to taste it from somewhere else?”
Her pupils dilated, black swallowing hazel. I slid my hands around her hips, guided her back until she hit the edge of the table.
She didn’t stop me.
I reached for the wineglass again and held it between us. “Tell me when to stop.”
She didn’t say anything, but she lifted her chin.
So I tipped it—just a little—and let a slow ribbon of wine trail from the hollow of her throat down to the swell of her chest, following the dip of her dress.
Selene shivered.
I followed the path with my mouth. Her breath caught when my tongue touched her skin. The wine was cool where it had landed, but her skin burned beneath it. I followed the trail slowly, deliberately, letting my lips brush the delicate line between reverence and hunger. Her fingers curled against the edge of the table, body taut and trembling under my mouth.
I paused just below the hollow of her throat and looked up. “You good?”
She nodded—small, sharp. “Yes.”
Her voice wavered like she was on the edge of something she hadn’t let herself want in a very long time.
I set the wineglass down and hooked my hands behind her knees, spreading her gently apart until she was open to me, breath shallow, dress gathered around her thighs. My palms slid over her skin, slow and steady, grounding her in every place I touched. I leaned forward, mouth dragging along the inside of her thigh, tasting the heat of her and the faint hint of red wine left in the air as I dragged her panties down her thighs.
I paused to stare at her, dress gathered at her hips, pussy bare and waiting. I yanked my shirt off before settling between her legs. Selene gasped when I licked her—just once, slow and sure—and then again when I buried my face between her legs like I’d been starving and this was the only thing that could bring me back to life.
She moaned my name—quiet and choked and wrecked.
I could have lived inside that sound.
The table creaked as her back arched, her fingers tangling in my hair like she didn’t know whether she wanted to pull me closer or push me away. I didn’t stop. Not until her legs were shaking, her breath ragged, her thighs clamped around my shoulders.
She came with a gasp that turned into a whimper, her whole body trembling under my hands.
I kissed the inside of her knee as I let her come down. I watched her, wild and undone, and knew I was a goner.
“You make me want more,” I murmured, pressing my forehead to hers.
Selene blinked at me, dazed and flushed. “More?”
I stepped back just enough to grab the wineglass again, swirled what was left, and let the last of it dribble down the center of my chest. It followed the trail of my sternum, catching on the ridges of muscle before sliding lower.
Then I unbuckled my jeans, eased them down, and let the wine continue its descent.
Selene’s eyes darkened.
The red wine curved over my abs, slid along the V of my hips, and dripped down the thick length of my cock, already hard and aching for her.
