White Lies

...In the bungalow's bedroom, Sarah made Dominick lie on his back, then took her sweet time administering to his needs.

She started at his hands, kissing his battered fingertips, his raw knuckles, his reddened wrists, anywhere she saw cuts or bruises or rope burns, any place that might be the source of his silent suffering. With her tongue, she dabbed each area, hoping her gentle kisses would somehow act the emollient to his pain.

She lapped unhurried rings around defiled areas on his cheek and chin, on the side of his neck, a purplish region on his shoulder, then a small cut below his breastbone. Rubbing her cheek against his jungle of chest hair, she flicked her tongue over his nipples, suckling each of the stiff peaks before journeying lower.

His rib cage merited her finicky healing expertise. She did so with tender pleasure, tasting every inch of the ill-colored area as she tongue-bathed his ridged belly.

After a fierce battle with her deepest desires, she licked farther down his body, bypassing the tempting, pulsating prize until she completed the task she had lovingly started. She never wanted to give this sexy man a reason to seek another woman to nurse him...