2
Chloe Phan, Interstellar Bride Processing Center, Miami
Lips roamed over my belly. My bare belly. A soft brushing and then a flick of the tongue. Heat swamped my senses and I felt the rough shock of whiskers as he turned his head, his breath fanning across my sweaty skin.
My fingers were tangled in his hair. When had I done that? I didn’t remember sliding them through the silky strands. Tugging. Then again, I didn’t remember a guy being on his knees before me, learning my taste, my feel.
“I can smell your desire.”
My scent. Holy s**t, his hands cupped my bare bottom and pulled me in so his mouth could go…there.
“Oh!” I cried. My vocabulary was gone. Why? Because he had a very skilled tongue.
“Step nice and wide for me, mate. I want access to this p***y of mine.”
The growl was rou
