"I promise I won't touch another woman after today," he murmured, his voice husky and low. Then his lips brushed my skin.
The moment he kissed me, a jolt of heat shot through my body. I thought he'd stop there. I thought he'd feel so ashamed or maybe get angry and walk away. But he didn't.
I suddenly felt something hot and wet on my toes. His tongue slid between my toes, slowly, deliberately, and I shivered, clutching the sheets for balance.
"C... Clayton," I whispered, trying to pull back, but he only tightened his hold.
"Don't run from me," he said, his voice deepening. His mouth trailed higher, french kissing along my ankle, up the side of my calf, until his breath danced against my knee.
My pulse was wild. I didn't understand how something that should have been humiliating suddenly felt… sinful. My body trembled, betraying me.
He looked up at me through his lashes, eyes dark with heat. "Why start something you can't finish, my little butterfly?"
