Isaac cried out in surprise at the sudden rush of feeling and arousal slamming into him like a freight train, eyes comically wide as his knees buckled. Slumping against the wall, he gazed up at the approaching figure, pleading with his eyes as he let out a pitiful little whimper.
Faintly, she said, “You’re biased. Of course you would say that — ” Her words broke off in a pleased hum. “Yep, licked it, it’s yours.”
“Just because it’s biased doesn’t mean it’s not true,” he stated and shifted slightly, licking down her jawline and smiling against her skin. “Mine.”
She laughed, stroking her fingers through his curls. “I can’t imagine I taste good, all sweaty and sticky. Silly Isaac.”