I lie on my bed and stare up into the vaulted ceiling, my body still singing from Bram’s mouth. My soul still singing from the way he yielded. I’ve never considered myself particularly kinky, or at least not in the way that requires elaborate rules and playacting scenes. But what happened in the bath . . . The power that coursed through me when he followed my demands. The surrender in his pale eyes. It’s just as heady as his tongue on my clit.
