32
Laetitia woke to bluish-gray light in a quiet room. She stretched groggily, barely realizing the cloth under her face wasn’t her pillow.
Undecided if he should laugh or keep quiet, Tavish struggled not to clench his muscles as her small, soft palm ran over him. With her eyes closed, Laetitia’s hand groped at the cotton until it found smooth skin, ropes of muscle, and a soft trail of hair. Still sleepy, she nuzzled her nose in the hollow of his neck and moved her lips against his skin, as if giving him a good-morning kiss.
He lay there wishing her hand continued downward on its exploration. But it headed north and to his tortured delight found his n****e, playing with the even-softer texture. Unable to contain himself, he exhaled a groan.
The soft rumble shook her fully awake.
“Morn
