“I’m —”
“I’m —”
I lean in then and smell the triangle of his throat, cutting him off.
It’s something that I’ve been wanting to do ever since I saw that patch of skin in his office a few days ago.
And now that he’s here, I couldn’t stop myself from giving in and I was right.
I was so fucking right.
His scent is thicker here.
Thicker and headier and I have to open my mouth to take it in.
Leather and cigar smoke.
With a hint of cherries.
That’s new though and I wonder if I can lick it too. I wonder if I could take a bite out of it, his throat. Just to see if it tastes the same as it smells.”
Hey, Mister Marshall by Saffron A. Kent
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