He planted soft kisses down her chest, to her belly and when he got to her hips, he stopped for a minute. Widending her legs so he could access her wet opening well.

“You… you didn’t do this that night.” Isla whispered, almost moaning as she felt his breath against her sensitive clit.

“I know.” The tip of his tingue brushed her wetness, extracting another moan from her. “I used my finger that night. I want to use my tongue this night.” He said ...