Lilith’s POV
My face burned as if it were about to explode.
Taste it? What was there to taste!
Shame made me desperate for cover. My hands scrambled blindly, searching for scattered clothes to wipe away the undeniable evidence of my desire.
But he was faster.
His hand pressed down on my wrist, and then that finger, slick with my own essence, pushed past my lips with a hint of domineering force, breaching my teeth and invading my mouth.
His fingertip brushed against the sensitive roof of my mouth, stirring wildly, spreading my own musky-sweet flavor across every surface.
It was my own taste—I didn’t dislike it—but precisely because it was mine, I knew exactly where it came from.
A wave of humiliation crashed over me.
“Mmm—” I whimpered, trying to push his fingers out with my tongue
