F ar from doing what most men might and simply flinging the garment as far away from her as soon as they could, Vallon rose slowly and kissed her again, deeply, bending her back a little, letting the gown part from her body naturally .
He ended the kiss by simply moving his mouth, leaving a moist trail of kisses along her delicate jaw line, then down the side of her neck, which he soon discovered was quite ticklish, nibbling on an earlobe or two, then kissing the divot at the base of her neck. From there, he gladly bent himself to follow the line of bare flesh that stretched out before him, kissing down the center of her chest, watching as her breasts swelled and her nipples peaked enticingly beneath the fabric .
When Vallon rose, he met her eyes. Then, holding them, he brought his mouth to what he could see through the diaphanous material was a deep rose nipple, first simply breathing on it, causing her to try to jerk away from him in reaction, then placing his hand on the small of her back to prevent her moving away from him and drawing his lips closed to suckle once, lightly at one before moving on to worship the other in the same fashion .
Her hands were on his chest in what he knew was silent protest—he could feel them trying to push him away—although not in a panicked manner at all—as she attempted to lean her nipples out from under his avid attentions—but he did nothing more than that, ignoring her reluctance until it had dissolved and was replaced by a hesitant desire, her back arching, not in avoidance, but in offering, instead, the hands that had been on his chest slowly creeping up to cup the back of his neck and hold his mouth to her .
Her first whimper of pleasure was almost the end of things for him. It was so tentative, still so disbelieving at the core, yet it was an undeniable triumph for him. He continued to do what he had been doing, until, eventually, he took the nearest edge of fabric in his teeth and moved it away from her breast, licking and suckling his way from the underside of a breast that was quite generous, especially for her delicate size, around to the top, acquainting himself with the intimate flavor of her skin before he settled his mouth back onto that now bare peak .
He thought she was going to collapse in his arms at that, but she didn't. She was panting, though, and her head moving restlessly back and forth, that beautiful silver hair of hers falling nearly to the floor as it undulated, those tiny little moans of hers that he thought were going to drive him crazy coming nearly every second now as he worshipped unabashedly at the altar of her beautiful breasts .
When Vallon lifted his head, he reached up and slid his fingers beneath the fabric of her already parted gown, unhooking it from her shoulders, but not insisting that she relinquish the safety of it entirely—yet .
"You are stunningly beautiful, you know ."