Eira's POV
That was all it took. A slow swipe of his tongue along my lower lip, as if tasting the faint sweetness left behind, sent a sharp spark racing through me. My breath hitched.
Another slow stroke followed before his tongue pried my mouth open and claimed me deeper, stealing the air from my lungs and holding me captive against him.
Damn. The skill this man had was nothing like what I would expect from a robust warrior who looked like he only knew how to fuck mercilessly and walk away.
Both his hands tangled into my hair at the back of my head, supporting my tilted face. The tips of his fingers grazed my scalp gently, as if grounding the violent storm of desire raging inside him, restraining it from breaking loose. It was effortless for him to angle my face however he wanted, and strangely comforting for me to surrender to that control.
