Beatrice pov
He didn’t answer with words. He just kept moving lower.
His mouth left a trail of wet kisses down my stomach. When he reached the hollow of my hip he bit softly, then soothed the spot with his tongue. I was trembling, legs falling open on their own.
He settled between them, hands sliding under my thighs to spread me wider. Cool air hit slick, swollen skin and I whimpered. Then his mouth was on me—no teasing, no hesitation. His tongue dragged up my center in one long, firm lick that tore a broken moan from my throat.
He did it again. And again. Slow, deliberate strokes that ended with the flat of his tongue pressing hard against my c**t. My hips bucked; he pinned them down and kept going, licking into me, tasting how wet I was for him. When he closed his lips around my c**
