He leaned in, but instead of claiming her mouth, he nuzzled the valley between her breasts, his nose and lips tracing the neckline of her chemise.
His breath was hot through the linen, making her squirm. He hooked a finger under one strap and slowly, so slowly, drew it down her arm, following the path of exposed skin with a trail of feather-light kisses.
When his mouth finally closed over her nipple through the fabric, she cried out, her head falling back. The sensation was electric, the damp heat of his mouth and the rough friction of the linen creating a delicious torture. He suckled gently, his tongue circling the taut peak until the material was soaked and she was writhing, her fingers tangled in his hair.
"Satou… please…"
