It starts with the way she looks at me.

That soft, vulnerable parting of her lips, the slight hitch in her breath as she lays back against the sheets, her body unfolding beneath me, completely open—completely mine to explore.

I love this moment.

Not just for what’s about to happen, but for the way she surrenders, trusting me fully, her skin already flushed, her body aching before I’ve even touched her where she needs me most.

I take my time.

Because this isn’t just about pleasure.

It’s about worship.

My lips start at her neck, tasting the warm curve of her skin, the soft pulse just beneath her jaw. She smells incredible, sweet and subtle, a mix of jasmine oil and the heat that lingers from how long I've kept her waiting.

I kiss lower—dragging my mouth along her collarbone, my tongue teasing the dip between her breasts. The way she squirms beneath me only makes me more determined. I’m in no rush.

Not yet.

I want to hear her first.

"Relax," I murmur against her skin, my lips brushing just below her ribs as my hands grip her thighs, parting them wider.

She trembles—just the anticipation alone making her body react, her breath coming faster now, lips parting with a whisper of my name.

Perfect.

I settle lower, kissing the inside of her thighs, slow, deliberate. The scent of her arousal is undeniable now—sweet, intoxicating, filling my lungs as I press closer.

But I don’t dive in.

Not yet.

I savor it.

Pressing gentle kisses along her thighs, just shy of where she needs me, my tongue tracing delicate patterns against her skin, letting the ache build. Letting her pulse for me.

I love this.

I love how her body responds without words, the way her hips shift, seeking more, the way her fingers clutch the sheets—desperate.

And when I finally give her what she’s silently begging for, my mouth pressing fully against her, tasting her for the first time tonight—

The sound she makes?

It’s everything.

A soft, broken moan.

Her back arches, thighs trembling against my hands as I part her gently, my tongue teasing the sensitive heat of her, circling, stroking, tasting her fully.

She’s so wet already.

So ready.

And it drives me insane.

I explore her like this is my only purpose—to worship her, to lose myself in the way she tastes, the way she melts beneath my tongue.

I shift, pressing my mouth closer, my tongue stroking deeper now, finding that perfect rhythm, the pace that makes her entire body tighten.

She’s gasping now, her voice shaky, broken—"Malik...please—"

But I’m not done.

I want to take her further.

I slide my hands beneath her hips, tilting her just enough to give myself even better access, flattening my tongue and pressing harder, circling her clit with slow, deliberate strokes, pausing only to suck gently—just enough to make her cry out, her thighs trembling around me.

"That’s it," I whisper against her, my voice rough with need. "Let go for me, baby. Don’t hold back."

Her body listens.

Her thighs tighten. Her breathing shatters.

She’s so close.

I feel it in the way her muscles tense, the way she arches fully off the bed, the way her hands tangle in my hair, urging me closer—demanding more.

And I give it to her.

I don’t stop.

Not until she’s trembling, her release breaking over her in waves, my name falling from her lips in a breathless, beautiful sound that echoes through the room.

But I don’t stop there.

I stay with her, gentle now, my tongue soothing her through the aftershocks, my lips pressing soft kisses against the sensitive heat of her, making sure she feels everything.

When I finally move back up her body, pressing my lips to hers, letting her taste herself on my tongue—

She’s still shaking.

Still breathless.

And the way she clings to me, her arms wrapping tight around my neck as she whispers, "I need you inside me now…"

God, I love this.

I love her.

And tonight?

I’m not stopping until she screams my name again.