“Yes,” I admit.
His lips graze my forehead. Right over the large patch of pale skin above my eye. The spot I’ve always despised.
“You’re perfect. Unique. Flawless. Inside and out.” Abandoning his hold around my middle, he lets his right hand move lower. “I could admire your beauty every day, and a lifetime of that wouldn’t be enough.” He slides his finger across my folds, making me gasp. “I could tell you how gorgeous you are, but if you don’t mind, I’d rather express my admiration with my tongue.”
I bite my lip. “I don’t mind at all.”
The midday breeze blows through the trees, rustling the leaves. It’s so gentle there’s no actual sound, yet I can still hear it. After nearly twenty years of nothing closer to nature than a patch of trampled grass in the prison yard, these forest melodie
