Ditun kissed her breast, his full mouth licking and nibbling on one mound, while his hand played with the other.
He felt her shift beneath him, her hands wiggling to free from his hold, but his one hand held her in place. "Not now, wife, for now is the show what it means to get close," he murmured.
He kissed his way down to her flat tummy, reaching her navel and the beads resting there, which were preventing him from kissing further.
He should stop, he warned himself; he should stop and let her go before he took her, but it was hard. It was hard not to get lost in the excitement, with kissing her, holding her, hearing her moans and gasps.
The stubborn demon in him did not stop. Instead, he kept kissing her navel, his free hand still giving her breast all of the excitement there is.
