Maya's POV

Without saying a word, Oliver grabbed the body wash and poured a small amount into his palm. He began to lather it across my chest and stomach, his hands moving in slow, deliberate circles. Every touch was gentle but firm, reverent. His lips brushed along the curve of my neck, placing feather-light kisses there, each one leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

When he nipped the mark that he gave me last night, as his hands glided over my skin, I couldn’t stop the moan that ...