“I am,” my voice is throaty, low with arousal. “Make it better, Nate. Please.”
Another whine slips out at the end of my words, and Nate is over me in a second.
“Steady,” he soothes. “Whatever you want, kitten.”
He leans in, his tongue slipping between my lips as I chase his taste before he disappears from my view.
Heated breaths warm the silk of my bodysuit as he moves down my body, and I shiver as his hand traces my side.
“More.” It’s a demand.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He carefully spreads my legs apart, the feel of his eyes on me making me squirm.
“Look at that,” he murmurs. “You’ve made this suit all wet, kitten.”
My head throws back against the sheets as he leans in, pressing a hot, open mouthed kiss to my slit over the silk. When he follows it up with a long lave of his tongue, my whole body jumps up.
“Nate!”
“Fucking divine,” he groans into me. “I knew you’d taste like butterscotch.”
There’s a ripping sound, the tight material parting beneath me as Nate pushes it out of his way.
His arms slide beneath my knees, long fingers sinking into my hip bones to hold me steady for him as he lifts me up.
I drop my head to watch him, his tousled hair giving him a boyish look as he looks up, eyes gleaming.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.”
And then I lose all sense of myself. My hips buck in his grip as his tongue slides up my folds, over and over again. Nate sucks up every bit of slick my body gives him, drinking it down as he moans.
“Ambrosia,” he rasps, before he gently wraps his lips around my clit and sucks, long, steady draws that blur my vision.
“Nate, please,” I’m a trembling, shaking mess as he holds me exactly where he wants me.
He blows a cool breath across my heated folds. “Scream for me, kitten.”
When his teeth close in the gentlest of bites, the crest overwhelms me, my orgasm coming in never-ending waves that Nate pulls from me as he continues his assault.
When he finally raises his head, pinning me with a slow, devastating smile, his lips are shining.
“Delicious,” he purrs. “Such a good girl, staying still for me.”
My breathing comes in heavy pants as he crawls over me, his nose brushing against mine as our bodies fit together.
“Still with me?” he asks, pushing back a strand of damp hair.
I can’t talk. My bones are mush.
He leans in, dropping a light as a feather kiss against my lips.
“Tell me you’re okay,” he says, his tone dropping. “Tell me I didn’t ruin this.”
I blink.
“I’m… good,” I gasp out. “Definitely ruined, though.”
