To her—horror? surprise? delight?—Fox took her lifted chin as an invitation. He dragged his nose up her neck and then followed the same path again with his lips, leaving fire in his wake. Her breathing hitched and every nerve in her body flared to life, destroying all coherent thought. Involuntarily, her eyes rolled back in her head, her chin lifting helplessly higher to give him further access. His mouth on her throat sent butterflies pulsing along her skin and amassed a cloud of wings in her chest. “Love . . . smell . . . wife.” He continued nuzzling her neck.
