Got A Light?
Milly had scolded Wolfwood more times than she could count for smoking.
It was bad for him, she warned, and he should quit. Every time Milly wagged her finger, Wolfwood would smile and joke, or buy her pudding as a distraction.
The smell of smoke was on Wolfwood, always. Now, as he kissed her, she found that the taste on his tongue was not unpleasant - it was so him, and she was drowning in it.
Later, as she stifled moans into her shoulder, she considered that an oral fixation might have its uses, after all.