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Emma was dying. And living. Flying. Spinning.
Both crying in frustration and shouting in pure delight as she climaxed again and again.
Over the next hour, as Daniel, with his incredible mouth, his miraculous hands, continued to touch, kiss, taste every inch of her body, she found herself unable to do a single thing but enjoy it. Rational thoughts drifted away. There was only sensation.
No decision to arch up when his tongue scraped across her nipple, just a primal need to have him suckle her again. No conscious awareness that he intended to make the most intimate love to her with his mouth, just the shocking delight of it when his tongue slipped between her wet folds and unerringly delved into her core.
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