SEVENTEEN
His curse is the only warning I get before his mouth is on me. Licking and sucking and, holy s**t, that feels good. I barely get a chance to enjoy it before I’m orgasming, my toes curling and my back bowing. I don’t mean to grab his hair and grind my p***y against his face, milking every last bit of pleasure from his clever tongue.
I don’t mean to, but I’m not sorry I do it.
Shane shifts me higher on the ottoman and shoves it forward enough that he can go to his knees between my spread thighs. I tense. Most of the time when guys have gone down on me in the past, they’re in a rush, doing the bare minimum to get me ready enough to f**k me. I’m more than ready to f**k Leo, but he’s giving my p***y slow, thorough kisses. Like he has all the time in the world. Like this isn’t even
