Page 65 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

“I don’t think we have time to go through all of it,” I say, aiming for some kind of sarcastic, airy tone and missing by a country mile. Lark sighs and kisses my chin.

“I am not good at guesswork,” he admits, “which should be clear by now. Please. Tell me.”

I squirm. He hasn’t stopped touching me, which is a good sign, and he doesn’t seem inclined to move away, either.

“It’s silly,” I say.

Lark kisses my jaw. My breath shudders out of me. “Go on.”

“You’re… You know what you look like.”

“Yes?”

“No, I mean, you’re just so fucking hot, you know, and I don’t—I’m not—”

I snap my mouth shut. Lark peers down into my face now, his dark eyes wide.

“You think I do not find you attractive?”

“No. I know you do. I just—” I let out a frustrated sound. It’s impossible to explain that things just aren’t the same, and sometimes that feeling wells up and takes me out of the moment and now we’re having this fucking conversation instead of the fun stuff we were doing before.

“Even if you were not my soulbond, I would find you attractive, Dante,” Lark says seriously before he drops another kiss to my jaw. “And I am not the only one.”

“You—What?”

He smiles against my skin. “You believe our Seelie tailor was judging you, do you not?”

“Y-yeah.” He’d stared at me for way too long, then avoided my gaze for the rest of the session. The robe I’d borrowed from Lark’s wardrobe was too tight. I’ve not seen a fae who isn’t slender, though I guess they must exist somewhere.

Lark hums. “He wanted to fuck you,” he says, and the word fuck makes my breath catch, as does Lark’s hand suddenly moving to slide up under my tunic. “He wanted to dig his fingers in and feel how soft you are. He wanted to make you squirm and beg for him.”

My throat goes dry. Lark lifts his head and smiles at the expression on my face. “Do you know how many men I have intimidated out of the café because they could not keep their eyes off you? Off what’s mine?”

The growl he lets out has me gasping, and I reach for him, pulling him down into a much messier kiss than before. Lark nips my lower lip and pushes me back into the grass again before he settles his body over mine.

“What do you want?” I say breathlessly when our mouths part.

“Everything.”

Lark kisses down my jaw, pausing for a moment to suck on my earlobe before he moves down my throat. He scrapes his sharp teeth over the sensitive skin there and I grab at his arms, trying to get him closer again. The hand he shoved under my tunic splays over my ribs and then digs in, just like he said.

Will he leave bruises? I whimper when Lark pushes my tunic up and teases one of my nipples. I want that. I want all of it. I want him.

I grab his hair, aware that I’m messing it up, as he moves lower. Lark’s nimble fingers make quick work of the laces on my trousers, and I don’t have time to be self-conscious before he reaches in and pulls out my cock.

“Exquisite,” Lark says. He strokes the length of my cock and my thighs tremble.

“Lark…”

“Allow me this indulgence? Please?”

I nod. Of course. Anything he wants. I’m not about to stop him now.

Lark’s smile turns wicked. I have just a second to admire it, to shiver at the sudden shock of heat that twists in my stomach, before he lowers his head to suck on the head of my cock.

“Oh, fuck—”

Lark laves his tongue over it, swirling it around in the second before he takes more of me into his mouth. I cry out. I don’t care if the entire party can hear us. Right now, they’re a distant memory, second to this maze and grass brushing against my skin and Lark settled between my thighs. He doesn’t break eye contact as he takes me deeper, his mouth wet and hot, and I moan again, the sound coming out breathy and pained.