Esme wasn't sure why she had foolishly assumed that when Donovan said he'd clean her up, he meant a bath.
Oh, how wrong she was.
With her gown laying in a forgotten heap on the floor, the cool air ghosted over her skin as she lay sprawled across the bed. But the fire licking through her body had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the man between her thighs. Donovan had her legs draped over his broad shoulders, locking her in place as his mouth worked sinful magic against her slick area.
Every flick of his tongue sent waves of undeniable pleasure coursing through her, her stomach clenching, whilst her back arched helplessly off the bed. But the man down there was relentless. Donovan held her still, his grip firm as he devoured her with slow, deliberate strokes, savoring every whimper that spilled from her lips.
