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6. Dawn
6 DAWN The couch is silky smooth against my bare flesh, but Draynor’s tongue is softer still. They wasted no time tearing my clothes from my body — their own clothes are strewn about the room as if a hamper exploded in the living area. Someone’s shirt hangs from the coffee table on the far side of the sofa. It might even be mine. But I don’t give a s**t about the laundry. I lean my back against the sofa. Silas is already on his knees between my legs, his broad shoulders shimmering in the afternoon sunlight that streams through the skylights on the far side of the house. Of the four of them, I think Silas loves to eat me out the most. I guess I can’t really gauge Kain’s love of o******x, though — maybe one day. Silas pauses with his face halfway to the apex of my thighs and blinks his b
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