The sensation of his wet tongue running through her skin scorched her body alive. Her senses picked up, and a pulse between her legs that almost made them give out.
Kraven growled in satisfaction, loving the way her body trembled and the fine hairs at the back of her neck standing. She was completely ruined for him.
Nothing could ever amount to this perfection.
"Do you want me to leave?" he asked. It was a risky move—a mistake.
It was a good thing he always took risks.
"Y-Yes."
Gods! She was a frustrating little thing he wanted to squeeze with his bare hands sometimes.
"Mean it."
The words to say hung in Isadora's throat; she knew she couldn't, and when she did, he would taunt her for it. He wanted to see how completely helpless she was.
He wanted her to need him.
"I always told you to mean your words." His other hand moved to her neck, not gripping but merely resting there. Yet, the heat of his touch seared through her skin, leaving a suffocating sensation.
