Page 95 of Cozen

Black lace.

“Black lace is my favorite,” he told her.

Cozen grinned. “Good to know.”

“I wasn’t really going to refuse your offer.”

“I figured that out when you told me to get comfortable for you.”

Good.

Sargon kicked the door closed behind him.

The phone was ringing—Sargon’s cell—but he wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t care to roll over and find the goddamn thing when he had far better things to be doing at the moment. He was far too busy imprinting the scent and taste of Cozen to be worrying about who was calling him at …

Sargon glanced up from the spot where he was kissing on Cozen’s spine to peek at the clock on the wall. Six in the morning.

Fuck that.

He was not picking up the phone.

“That’s the second call this—”

“Hush,” Sargon demanded before going back to kissing a path down Cozen’s spine. Naked in her nest of blankets and pillows, one probably wouldn’t even know it was just the floor beneath them. It was quite soft, and comfortable, all things considered. “Hush, and let me enjoy you for five more minutes.”

Cozen laughed breathlessly. “Only five?”

“Don’t test me, woman.”

To make his point, one of his palms smacked down on her ass. He felt the heat rise to the surface of her skin damn near instantly. He grabbed her backside firmly in the same spot, rolled to his side, and dragged her with him. Tucking her against his naked chest, he buried his face in her neck, and sucked on her pulse point.

Her heart raced as his hand skimmed her curves, and then dropped down between her thighs. She spread her legs open even more for him.

“You’re terribly fucking needy this morning,” he said, letting his fingers stroke her pussy. “And wet. Shit, feel how wet you are, Cozen.”

Her hand slipped down to meet his between her legs. He nipped at the spot where her throat met her shoulder as her fingers sunk into her pussy alongside his two. He pulled out just to stroke her clit while she fucked herself.

Cozen’s sweet cries turned into soft mewls. Her leg hooked around his, and tangled tight to lock her into place. He kept those circling strokes at a firm pressure against her clit as a tremor began to work its way through her body.

Jesus.

He could smell her all around him.

Feel her all over his skin.

Her taste was in his mouth—the best thing he’d ever tasted first thing in the morning was her pussy on his tongue.

Nothing was ever going to compare to that.

Cozen tipped her head back on the pillow to look up at him. All mused hair, swollen lips from waking him up by sucking him off, and eyes darkened with lust. All her makeup from the night before was gone, and he’d ruined that pretty, silk nightie of hers when he all but ripped it off.

Not that she minded.

Now, it was just them, and skin.

And sex.

“An amber brown,” Cozen whispered.