I whimpered at the loss, hips searching for him.
Caesar pressed his c**k hard against me once more, holding me still. "Not so fast, darlin'," he rasped, eyes dark with hunger. "I haven't even had a taste of you yet." And before I could protest, he spun me over, and I landed on the bed, breathless, with him looming between my spread thighs. His gaze roamed over me, hungry, reverent, drinking in every bare curve like I was a feast laid out for him alone.
He stood just long enough to slip off my heels, tossing them aside carelessly, before crawling back up the bed. Hovering above me, his head lowered slowly, deliberately. His tongue trailed down my chest in a hot, wet line, making me shudder.
My breath hitched when he bit lightly at my ribs, only to soothe the sting with a slow, wet kiss.
