I flicked the tip—quick, cruel little lashes—and her thighs clamped together so violently her hips lifted clean off the mattress.
I felt the hot gush of her slick soak through her against my knee—she was dripping so much I could smell it now, thick and sweet and obscene.
I switched to the right nipple, giving it the same ruthless attention—suction so deep her back arched into a perfect bow, teeth grazing just enough to make her cry out, then soothing with flat, broad strokes of my tongue.
Her hands fisted in my hair, yanking me closer, hips grinding air in helpless little circles.
"Peter—please—lower—touch me—fuck, I need—"
I let the Taboo Aura roll off me in slow, invisible waves.
Her pupils blew wide.
Her breathing turned ragged.
The forbidden weight of this—of a younger man worshipping the body she'd hated for years—hit her like a drug.
Her inhibitions dissolved.
