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I wiped her lips, rubbed my thumb over them, and kissed her. “Mm… That’s better.”

We leaned against the stairs and again I fell into a sexy dream. Her soft, moist lips met mine, and our tongues tangled.

On hearing a voice in the distance, we separated.

“You don’t like makeup?” she asked as we continued down a long hallway filled with old-fashioned portraits.

“It looks great on you. Anything would, really.” I bathed in her smile. “But I prefer the taste of naked lips and skin.”

“At least I don’t believe in fake tan products, so you’re safe there.”

I hissed. “Not a fan.”

“You sound very experienced.”

“No more than you, from what I’ve observed.”

“Hey. What are you implying?” She placed her hands on her hips, and I pulled her into my arms before she could say another word.

My body pressed firmly against hers as she melted into my arms. I took her face in both hands and tilted her head back, and I lost myself in her soft, succulent lips.

Her hips and tits pressed against me, and my heart sped in anticipation of her twisting and moaning, naked and sweaty, against me.

Sensing someone in the distance, I had to drag myself away from her again.

“Let’s get to that bedroom, shall we?” Impatient to see her naked, I led her by the hand. “They’re a cheery bunch.” I pointed at the sombre faces on the wall.

“They’re the Lovechildes going back a few hundred years. They’re not a cheerful bunch at all.” She chuckled.

“Is there a painting of you?” If not, she needed one. With that smudging eyeliner making her eyes all sultry and deep, her rosy pout and milky skin, Savanah made the perfect art subject.

She grabbed a key out of a vase and opened her door. “There’s a portrait somewhere. I hated it so much I had it relegated to one of the rarely visited sitting rooms.”

Turning on the light, she signalled for me to enter the salmon-pink walled room that smelt of roses.

“I can’t imagine a painting of you being anything but beautiful.” I stared into her stunning blue eyes that normally wore a teasing gleam, only now they shone with a hint of vulnerability, just like the night I found her cut on a London pavement. That lost girl’s expression made sense in line with her ordeal, but not here in the safety of her comfortable life.

“Is anything the matter?”

She looked up at me, wide-eyed and reminding me more of a girl than a woman. Shaking her head, she bit her lip.

Enough talk. I took her into my arms, and our kiss went from tender to devouring in a matter of seconds.

Although I’d always loved women’s lips and how they felt on my mouth and cock, Savanah’s sexy mouth, a combination of raw sex and silky sensuality, was from another universe entirely.

Unzipping her dress, I slid it off her curves, leaving her in a clingy petticoat.

I had to step away so that I could look at her. “You’re beautiful.” I dipped my finger between the line of her cleavage, and her nipples spiked through the smooth fabric.

She looked up at me. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes shone with a hint of suggestion. “I took off my suspenders, I’m afraid. They were digging into me. Next time.” Her eyebrow raised. “I mean…” She bit her lip and again revealed insecurity. Where was that super confident, swing-through-life girl?

I brushed a loose tendril away from her cheek. “You’re not the kind of woman I can only taste once.”

I pushed her onto the bed and ran my hands over her breasts, which fit perfectly in my hand. Her nipples pricked my palms and made me salivate.

I slipped down the thin strap of her tiny lace bra and palmed her breasts before sucking on her nipple. She moaned sweetly, and I grew rock-hard.

She unzipped my jeans and freed my aching dick, ran her finger over the throbbing veins one by one, tormenting me. Moving her hand, I had to stop her. I was on fire.

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