That did it.
He growled low—deep and rough and so hot I thought my brain short-circuited—and then his tongue flicked out, fast and punishing, right against my c**t, and my whole body jerked like someone had plugged me into a socket.
“Fuuuck,” I moaned, grabbing his hair with both hands, “Okay, maybe you’re a little bit sorry. But I’m still mad. Keep apologizing.”
And he did.
With his tongue.
With his mouth.
“Oh my God—”
My head fell back, spine arching, hands clawing at the sheets behind me like I needed something to hold onto before I floated straight off the bed. His tongue was thick and warm and everywhere at once. It was like he’d mapped my body and was following every remembered inch, every swollen nerve, every wet, pulsing point of need that made me babble like I had no contro
