In time, Ross began to trail kisses lower, his mouth leaving a heated path down Joan's trembling body.
His lips lingered on her breasts one last time before moving slowly past her ribs, her soft stomach, her hips—each kiss more deliberate, more reverent, as if he was worshiping her inch by inch.
When he reached the soft skin of her inner thighs, Joan's breath caught.
Her legs instinctively parted wider, giving him full access to the most sacred part of her body.
There was no shyness in her—only anticipation and desire.
She lay there, beautiful and bared, her body trembling slightly under his touch, but her gaze steady and full of trust.
Ross looked down, and what he saw made his blood boil with hunger.
Her pussy was stunning.
Smooth, freshly shaven, and flushed a deep, inviting pink.
Her lips were thick and plush, tightly closed and glistening with her arousal.
A thin, shimmering line of her juices ran along her folds, proof of just how ready she was.
