A Lovely Dream
Rowan?
That was definitely Rowan.
Only he called her akya.
She wanted to speak, but this sweet smell that always intoxicated her, filled the air and poured into her lungs with no form of restraint.
It was like a fucking drug that she was addicted to.
All she could think about were the hands on her body and… how she would want those hands to get to work!
The pleasure she could derive from them.
Oh, goodness and everything that resided in the middle of goodness.
She had fucking missed this!
Why hadn't he been taking over her dreams a long time ago?
A finger trailed over her taut nipple, and her back arched to the pleasure.
For the love of everything beautiful, she could do this forever.
The lips that were against her ear lobe moved to her neck and a warm tongue flattened against the crook of her neck, teeth like fangs catching the sensitive part of her skin in pleasurable pain.