I kissed her inner thigh, soft and slow, and felt her leg twitch under my mouth. The skin there was warm and smooth, and I took my time exploring the sensitive flesh, working my way higher with each press of my lips.
"Jace," Naomi whispered, her voice already shaky.
I glanced up at her face. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her bottom lip caught between her teeth like she was trying to hold something back. The shell necklace from her mother sat crooked against her collarbone, rising and falling with each rapid breath.
I closed my eyes and just savored her. The taste of her skin, the way her muscles jumped when I hit the right spot, the scent of vanilla body wash mixed with something that was just Naomi. This girl who'd been the first person to look at me like I was worth something, who'd trusted me when I was dying and desperate, who'd let me drink from her body without flinching.
