I hooked my fingers in the sides of her underwear and pulled. She lifted for me. The white fabric slid down her legs—soft, deliberate—and joined the rest of our clothes on the floor.
She was bare now.
Venna looked up at my face, her blue eyes tracing slowly upward, then downward across my fully naked body above her—shoulders, chest, the hard lines of abdomen—and the heavy, hard length of my cock that throbbed visibly with each heartbeat. The look was open, unhurried, almost studying.
She leaned up just enough to brush her lips against mine again, softer this time, teasing, tasting. Her tongue flicked lightly against my lower lip before she pulled back half an inch, breath mingling hot between us.
She was breathing harder. Her gasp killed everything outside the building—the distant screams, the broadcast, the whole capital ending—until there was only the sound of air moving in and out of her lungs.
