Layla Miller

Layla didn't say anything back. In place of a quip, she ducked her head to briefly nip and then suck on the place where his neck met his shoulder, while she dragged her fingernails lightly down his sides. She turned toward him more, lips and tongue slowly wandering along his collar bone as her hands mapped out his abdomen, the grooves at his hips, the tops of his thighs- and there, gently, scraping again.

She absolutely didn't mind. She wasn't going to rush, though.