He sat up, holding my waist to keep me moving on him. “I need to break your skin,” he whispered before sinking his teeth into the area around my nipple and stilling as his orgasm completed. I held his head to me, encouraging his habit as I caught my breath. Hay clung to every part of us. He eased back, staring drunkenly up at me, licking his lips. “Fuck, you, Mr. Kincaid,” I said weakly. “Yes, you did.” He laughed exhaustedly when I pushed his face away, not appreciating his snark.
