Heat spirals through me. I drink in the conflict tightening every muscle in his face, the way his fists clench like he’s fighting himself.
Screw it. I close the distance and press my lips to his.
For a heartbeat, he goes still. I start to pull back, panic spiking, thinking maybe I’ve misjudged everything?—
Then his hands are in my hair and his mouth crashes back onto mine. He kisses me like he’s starving, desperate, stealing the breath from my lungs. When I open for him, his tongue slides against mine, rough and demanding, and the sound he makes is broken, guttural, like a man in pain.
“This is a bad idea,” he mutters against my lips, even as his hands slide down to grip my hips.
“I know,” I breathe, tugging him closer anyway.
He backs me against the wall, his body pressing against mine, and I feel him hardening through his jeans. The realisation sends a jolt through me that makes my knees weak. I fist my hands in his thick hair, marvelling at how soft it is, how good he smells this close.
His hands roam over me, mapping every curve, and when he cups my tit through my sweater, I arch into his palm with a soft moan that drives him wild.
Across the room, Gus lifts his head at the commotion, then huffs and flops back down, as if deciding humans are hopeless.
“Bedroom,” Lachlan growls against my neck, the rough command sending a shiver racing straight to my core.
We stumble toward the stairs, pausing every few steps to kiss, hands roaming, pulling at clothes. My sweater hits the floor somewhere between the kitchen and the landing. His henley follows soon after, and I get my first real look at his chest—broad, solid, a landscape of dark hair that makes my fingers itch to touch.Tom Selleck, eat your heart out.
By the time we reach his bedroom, I’m breathless, my bra hanging loose. I don’t even know when he unhooked it.
Lachlan stops just inside the doorway, hands poised to push the bra off my shoulders. “Tell me to stop,” he says, his voice hoarse.
I meet his eyes, seeing the conflict there, the vulnerability. “I don’t want you to stop.”
The bra slips from my shoulders and hits the floor.
For a moment, he just stares, like he can’t quite believe I’m real. “So fucking pretty,” he says hoarsely. Then his hands are on me again, rough, greedy palms closing over my tits, thumbs teasing my nipples until I’m gasping his name.
When he lowers his head to take one nipple into his mouth, the scrape of his beard against my sensitive skin is exquisite torture. I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him there as he devours me, teasing first one, then the other until I’m squirming.
“My turn,” I manage, pushing him back just far enough to fumble at the buttons of his jeans.
When I finally wrestle his jeans and boxers down, I stop to take in the sight of him. Jesus. He’s gorgeous. Thick, hard, flushed, and mine to touch. My mouth actually waters.
But then I spot the detail. Uncircumcised. Huh. That’s new. All my exes were cut.
“Interesting,” I murmur, and before he can so much as blink I’m wrapping my fingers around his cock and exploring the way the skin shifts under my touch.
He sucks in a sharp breath. “Christ, Blair... you’re not shy, are you?”
“Nope.” I grin up at him, cheerful as anything, and keep going. The skin is softer than I expected, warm and slick, and I’m fascinated by how every little stroke makes him twitch and groan.
When a bead of pre-cum glistens at the tip, I drag my thumb across it just to see what he’ll do. The low, broken sound that rumbles out of him is pure sin.
But then his big hand clamps around my wrist, halting me.
I raise an eyebrow. “Hey, I was just starting to have fun down here! And don’t even try to pretend you’re not enjoying this. Trust me, Captain, I can feel how much you are.”
“I’m enjoying it too much,” he growls, his accent thicker now. “It’s been years, Blair. If you keep going, I’ll lose it right here. Leave my cock alone and let me taste you.”
He makes quick work of my leggings and panties then guides me back onto the bed. When he settles between my thighs, I brace for him to be frantic, as desperate as his kisses.
But instead, he slows down. His big hands spread my pussy open, his thumbs parting me with maddening care, and the look on his face makes my breath hitch. He’s studying me like I’m some treasure he’s been denied for years.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, and then his head dips.
