Delilah took her time.
She had already kissed and worshipped nearly every inch of Phei's body with slow, sinful devotion — her mouth dragging wetly over his throat, his chest, the hard ridges of his abdomen, the sharp lines of his hips. She left warm, glistening traces of herself across his skin, her tongue tasting the salt of him, her teeth occasionally grazing just hard enough to make the muscles beneath jump.
Her hands followed everywhere, stroking, squeezing, claiming every inch of the man who had built her a sky.
Only when she was satisfied did she finally move lower.
She settled between his powerful thighs, her long strapless dress riding high around her hips.
The fabric strained obscenely against the full, heavy curves of her body — the generous swell of her breasts threatening to spill completely from the neckline with every shift, the thick, smooth flesh of her thighs pressing together as she knelt.
