Page 347 of Reign

Now he looks at me like every inch is already his and still somehow not enough.

His hands settle on my hips. His fingers hook into the lace.

“I need these gone too.”

“You seem to need a lot tonight.”

“Yes.”

He slides them down my legs and tosses them aside without looking where they land.

Then he guides me onto the chaise again.

The leather is cool against my back as I lie against it, watching him reach for the bottle. He pours a careful measure into the shallow dip of my navel.

The liquid trembles there with every uneven breath.

“You’re enjoying this far too much.”

“You haven’t seen how much yet.”

He bends and drinks it from me.

My stomach contracts beneath his mouth. His tongue draws the whiskey from my navel before his kisses travel higher, following the center of my body until he reaches my breasts again.

By the time his mouth finds mine, I’m already leaning into him, chasing the sharp sweetness from his tongue.

The man loves me and has apparently decided that means turning my entire body into a glass.

I’m not complaining.

When he draws back, his voice is lower.

“Spread your legs.”

I part them.

Luciano lowers to his knees at the end of the chaise.

His hands close behind my knees, drawing me forward until my hips rest near the edge. Then he lifts my legs one at a time and settles them over his shoulders.

The position leaves me open in front of him, my body angled along the chaise with nothing between his mouth and exactly what he wants.

He presses one hand against my stomach and guides me farther back.

“Stay there.”

As though I’m capable of going anywhere with my legs around his neck.

Luciano places the bottle in my hand.

“Pour it for me.”

I look from the whiskey to his face.

This is either going to be the hottest thing or an exceptionally sticky mistake.

Possibly both.