Wright:
The moment she accepts it, her body softens beneath mine. The last of the fight drains out of her, leaving something pliant and trusting in its place. It’s the most beautiful surrender I’ve ever seen.
I finally release her wrists, but I don’t move away. I brace my hands on either side of her head, caging her in. My gaze drops from her eyes to her parted, glistening lips. Her breath hitches, a silent invitation.
I lower my head, but I don’t kiss her mouth. I press my lips to the frantic pulse beating in her throat. I feel it jump against my tongue, a wild, trapped thing. I taste salt and her skin, clean and warm. I trail my mouth up the column of her neck, to the sensitive spot just below her ear, and she makes a sound—a soft, broken little moan that goes straight to my c.o.c.k.
