At his repeat ministration, she whimpered and clenched his strands. Holding him to her, she wrapped a leg around his, desperate to cease the throbbing at the apex of her thighs. A groan, and he circled her navel with his tongue, then kept going. Lower, lower.

Parting her thighs, he settled between them. Unable to breathe, to think, she ground her hips and silently begged. As if knowing just what she needed, he closed his mouth around her, and she bowed.

"Brady," she ...