She took a sip, and moaned as the rare vintage interacted with her tongue. Marc noted her subtle smile, one that urged him to give himself to her. While such overtures were common, the fact it had an effect on him was noteworthy.
“Is this part of the surp—” Marc asked.
Without a sound she pressed her index finger against his lips. He would have normally challenged her, but that thought was quickly suppressed. Tonight he imagined wrapping his lips around her finger while sucking on the tip with his tongue.
“Drink,” Émilie repeated.
Disclaimer: This excerpt from Man of War is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
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