Aurora's POV
He leaned in, his nose brushing against the sensitive, aching folds of my center. He inhaled sharply, a deep, drunken sniff as if my scent was the only thing keeping him alive. I felt my walls turn to liquid, a hot, honeyed slickness coating my entrance.
Then, his tongue made contact.
It wasn't a gentle lap; it was a firm, rhythmic stroke that started at the very bottom and traveled all the way up to my swollen bud. I let out a broken cry, my head hitting the mahogany table behind me. He was eating me with a desperate, raw intensity that felt terrifyingly familiar. Every flick of his tongue, every suction of his lips against my clit, felt exactly like the way Raymond had claimed me in my room.
