AlleneHe leaned down, pressing a kiss to my collarbone. Then another, lower. His lips trailed down my sternum, over my ribs, pausing to suck gently at the curve of my waist. I arched into him, my fingers threading through his damp hair.He took his time. Every inch of my skin received attention—kisses, nips, the flat of his tongue painting lazy patterns. He avoided my center deliberately. Each time I shifted my hips, trying to guide him where I needed him most, he slowed down, pressed a kiss to my thigh, my hip, my stomach, and moved on."Please," I breathed."Not yet."His hands roamed, possessive and firm, gripping my thighs, spreading them apart. He settled between them, but instead of entering me, he lowered his head. His breath ghosted over my wetness and I gasped.His tongue touched me. A single stroke from my entrance to my clit, feather-soft. Then he pulled back."Draven...""Shh." He did it again. Slower this time, tracing the outline of my folds, circling my clit with the
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