Forbidden Collection
She was trembling constantly now, thighs shaking, voice gone hoarse from begging.
“Please—please just let me—”
“Not yet.”
He reached for the honey.
This time he didn’t drizzle. He poured it straight from the jar in a thick, amber stream directly over her clit and watched it slide down in slow, viscous ribbons. The honey was warmer than the chocolate, thicker, clinging to every fold. When he finally touched her again it was with the pad of his thumb—pressing the honey into her clit in slow, firm circles while two fingers slid back inside, fucking through the sticky sweetness.