RAYNE
The world narrowed to the shocking heat of Reid's tongue. He devoured the sting he’d left behind, transforming the pain into pleasure.
My hips rolled against his mouth, my back arching off the stool. His tongue lashed at my c**t, circled it, then plunged deep, f*****g me with it.
The coiled tension in my belly pulled tighter like a spring about to snap.
Then he stopped.
He pulled back, his chin gleaming with my wetness. His eyes were molten gold. "You’re close," he stated, his voice thick. "I can smell it. I can taste it. But you don’t get to come on my tongue, little bird. Not yet."
A whine of pure frustration tore from my throat. The denial was a physical ache. Before I could even process it, his hands were on me.
He hauled me up from the stool, my legs buckling. He didn’t
