Nathaniel gave an appreciative moan, traced his finger around one areola, then the other. Looking as if he was about to partake in the Fountain of Youth, he leaned forward to sip delicately.
Cassandra’s own moan was high and breathless.
Then he moved. Rising to his feet, he stood like a warrior god of old, his broad shoulders tapering in a golden line down to his slender waist. His c**k jutted proudly over thick, muscled thighs. Unable to resist, Cassandra lifted herself to one elbow and leaned forward to blow lightly on the straining tip of his erection.
It jumped, as if coming to attention.
She slanted him a wicked look, then leaned closer to run her tongue around the velvety head. His fists clenched at his hips, but he didn’t move. Didn’t try to take control.
“Yum,” she murmured be
