“I’m starving,” Blake said.
I didn’t have time to respond before I felt his mouth on my neck, eagerly kissing and nipping his way down to my shoulder. The sensation made my nipples ache, and I arched my back away from the leather booth in response. Blake slid the black spaghetti strap off my shoulder and the droop of the fabric exposed my left nipple.
“Oops,” I said, giggling.
Any thought of food was instantly banished.
My head was swimming from the wine and the seduction, and I watched transfixed as he dipped his fingertips into the remainder of the wine in his glass then stroked my uncovered nipple.
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