“What’s this?” Dom moved on to Warwick’s torso.
“A hard nipple.”
Dom traced it with his tongue, and the forced air heat, warm except when blowing on something wet, made Warwick shiver. “Another one.”
“Aye.”
Dom did the same with that one. “And in between…” He put his ear to Warwick’s chest. “More musica. A beat.”
“For you.”
The next point of sustained interest was Warwick’s navel.
“What do you call this?”
“Fred.”
It was Dom’s turn to laugh. “My silly Duckie.” He made a sweep through all of Warwick’s hair, from both inner thighs all the way up to his beard, and then, “And we’ve arrived back here.”
Warwick shuddered with a sharp inhale. “That would be your mouth on me willy. Oh. And your finger near my—in my arsehole.”
“Is that good?” Dom asked.
“Rather great, I’d say.”
“So, you
