I pulled back—just enough. My mouth withdrew from her nipple with a soft, wet pop that made her breath hitched. She gasped—a sharp, ragged sound, half protest, half plea—her body swaying toward me like a compass needle seeking north.
The slick trail of my saliva gleamed on her skin under the low light, glistening on the flushed, swollen peak.
My thumb dragged across the wet curve of her breast, slow and deliberate, feeling her pulse leap beneath the skin. Then both hands fell away completely. Depriving her.
"Not tonight," I murmured. Voice low, rough, layered with gritted control. "We'll continue from here next time."
Ava's eyes—dark, dilated, burning—locked onto mine. Shock flashed first, then outrage. Her lips parted, but no words came. Just a frustrated hiss as her body betrayed her—hips rolling forward slightly, seeking friction I refused to give.
For now...
