a tactical error.
But it wasn’t quite midnight yet. He deserved something special for his birthday. And right now, this was the only gift he wanted.
“May I?”
As Caitlin’s eyes drifted shut, Sean pressed his lips to hers. It was a sweet, tender kiss. A taste, really. Her lips were firm and full, with the tempting give of a ripe peach, yet twice as delicious. And when they responded with the same supple energy that made the rest of her body so fascinating to study, he traced his tongue along the seam of her lips and pushed his way inside.
Her lips parted with a breathy sigh, welcoming him. He ran his tongue along the strong arc of her teeth and circled the yielding warmth of the sensitive skin inside. She nipped at his lips with delicate kisses of her own. And as he licked and sucked and tasted, her throat hummed with pleasure. The low-pitched coos entered his brain and traveled like a soft, steady caress down to his groin. Something about those moans—whispers of erotic sound—danced along his nerve endings and triggered an answering sigh deep in the rumbling recesses of his own throat.
They were sex sounds. Mating sounds. More evocative than a cry of rapture. More personal than words. Intimate. Wholly untrained and natural.
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