Wyatt’s POV

Wyatt trailed kisses up and down the column of Priscilla’s elegant neck, getting rewarded with breathy sighs and the tightening of her thighs around his waist. He was a starving man, aching to taste her skin.

So long he had waited so long to see her like this, have her like this. He couldn’t get enough of it, the feel of her throat against his lips, the taste of sweat on his tongue. She responded by arching her back, lifting her chin, letting him ...