Page 105 of Freeing Lark

“I want you inside me,” she pleaded. “Don’t make me beg.”

“You never have to beg for my cock, little bird.” With rapid speed, he rolled off the bed and stripped his clothes off. Then he opened the bedside drawer where his stash of condoms lived, noting he’d have to get more soon. Having several rounds of sex daily could deplete a supply quickly.

He climbed back over her after rolling the condom on, seeing she had taken her bra off while he’d been contemplating buying more rubbers. He didn’t waste her efforts, taking a hardened peak between his teeth and biting down gently. She made a sound that didn’t seem humanly possible… he loved it and wanted to hear it again.

Her back arched as he moved his attention to her other tit. Heat built and spread like wildfire. An all-consuming inferno spread through every fiber of his existence, from his cells and nerves to the very molecules that made him up.

“Need…”

“What do you need, little bird?” he asked.

“Kiss me.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice. Her lips were where he’d first found home and would forever draw him back. Her tongue brushed across his lips, and she made a humming sound as they parted. He teased it open further and delved inside, caressing her tongue with his. Thick, hot desire blasted through him, and he couldn’t hold back a moment longer.

He plunged deep, like a man possessed. His thrusts were barbaric. Passionate. Driven by instinct. She erupted around him, igniting his own climax. It exploded through him with violent bliss. He buried his face in her neck, biting down on the sensitive skin there until she was gasping his name once more.

Everything went silent and black for a moment as they rode the pleasure wave together. Eventually, he came back into himself and realized he was probably crushing her with his weight.

He rolled off the bed and took care of the condom. She hadn’t moved a muscle as he returned to her. “You alive?” he asked, climbing back into the bed and gathering her into his arms.

“No,” she uttered faintly.

“Need me to make you come again to bring you back to life?”

“Mercy,” she whined. He decided to have pity on her… for now. Within no time, she was sound asleep in his arms.

Hours later a gasp from her woke him. From the shadows in the room, he guessed it was late afternoon. Lark sat propped up in bed, her head cocked, a look of deep thought on her face as if grasping for a lost memory.

She looked different when she was thinking hard. Her brows drew together, lips slightly parted, and her gaze went distant as though she were trying to pull something from the back of her mind.

He didn’t interrupt. He’d learned that Lark needed a moment sometimes.

After a minute, she turned to look at him. “Cormac?”

“Yeah?”

“I remembered something.”

He immediately became more alert. “What?”

“The crates.”

His stomach tightened. “What about them?”

She pushed herself up against the headboard, dragging the sheet with her. “When I was on the island. Before they caught me. The men were loading them onto the boat.”

Hoot sat up. “You saw the PSG symbol.”

“Yes.” She frowned. “But that wasn’t all.”

“What else?”

“Numbers.”

He stared at her. “Numbers?”

She nodded slowly. “I remember seeing them stamped underneath the symbol. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. But now...” She squeezed her eyes shut. “They’re there. I can see them.”