Harper
His mouth found my throat.
Hot. Open. A drag of teeth that wasn't a bite, just the promise of one. The forest floor was damp under my bare back, pine needles pricking my shoulder blades, and every inch of my skin was bare to the air, bare to him. His hand spread across my ribs, thumb sweeping up the side of my breast, and I arched into it without deciding to.
He made a sound against my neck. Low. Wrecked. The kind of sound that lived behind a wall in waking life and only got out here.
His mouth moved down. Collarbone. Sternum. The dip below my ribs. Each kiss landed hotter than the last, like he was burning a map into me with his lips. His hair brushed my stomach. His breath fanned across skin that had never been touched, and a sound fell out of me that I'd never made in my life
