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“And then you closed it.”
“Yes,” he replied, taking a seat beside her.
“Does Khloë know about all this?”
“She knows about my history. She doesn’t know about my current shadowkin issue. You’re the only person outside of my clan who does.”
Larkin frowned when he dragged her onto his lap so that she straddled him. “Idiot, you have wounds on your thighs,” she said, straining to get up.
Holding her in place, he shrugged. “I heal fast, remember? They’re almost gone.” He pressed a lingering kiss to her pulse that made it skitter. “They don’t hurt anymore.”
Larkin carved a hand into his hair as he licked a line up her throat. “We’re supposed to be talking.”
He slipped his hands under her tee and gripped her waist—they were so big, they almost completely spanned it. “I’m just getting more comfortable.” He lashed her earlobe with his tongue.
As the feel of his hot breath washed over the wet lobe, she almost shivered. If he was trying to distract her again . . . well, it was working. Dammit.
“What’s your plan for dealing with your half-brother when he surfaces?” she asked. “Tell me you have one.”
“We have one.” He swiftly peeled off her tee and dropped it beside him on the bench.
“Hey!”
“I’m simply making sure you don’t overheat.” His eyes went dark with need as they locked on her cleavage. “You really do have spectacular breasts.”
She pulled lightly on his hair. “Tell me about your plan.”
He coasted his fingertips along the swells of her breasts and then flicked open the front catch of her bra. “What plan?”
She let out a low growl.
His gaze snapped to hers, and he smiled. “Do that again.”
She fisted his hair tight. “Sullivan, you are testing my patience in a major way.”
“I can’t focus worth a damn right now,” he said, parting the cups of her bra. “Which is all your fault. If you weren’t flashing your rack at me—”
“Flashing? I’m not flashing anything.”
“—and I didn’t have your nipples staring at me—”
“They’re not eyes, dickhead.”
“—I’d be able to keep track of the conversation. Now what were we talking about?”
Larkin gasped as he filled his hands with her breasts. “I really think I might kill you one day,” she clipped even as she arched into his hold. “We were talking about—”
“Me fucking you hard?”
Her inner muscles fluttered. Oh, piss it. “Yeah. Yeah, that.”
His mouth descended on hers as he shot to his feet, keeping her pinned against him. His tongue plundered her mouth as he backed her toward the bedroom area. But then he stopped. Spun her. Pressed his front firmly against her back.
Panting, Larkin watched as he planted her hands on the edges of the doorjamb.
His lips grazed her ear. “Hold on.”
Ordinarily, she might have put up a fight for the heck of it. But though his wounds were healing fast, it wouldn’t be too hard to reopen them. She didn’t want to hurt him. So instead of protesting, she gripped the edges of the doorway.
He hummed, pleased. “Good girl.” With quick movements, he removed the rest of her clothes, leaving her completely naked. “Don’t move.” He stepped back, and then there were the sounds of shoes being kicked off and clothing being shed.
She waited, her body strung tight, her pulse racing, her nerveendings on fire with anticipation. Then he pressed his front against her back once more, and the skin-to-skin contact made her break out in a shiver.
His cock aggressively throbbed against her. It was hot and hard, and the sooner it was inside her the better.
Teague planted a hand on her stomach, his fingers spread, taking up maximum space in a very territorial gesture. “See that bed over there? I’ve never fucked anyone in it.” He slid his hand down, down, down, and slipped two fingers between her slick folds. “I’m gonna pound you into that mattress later.” He jammed two fingers inside her.
She jolted, her head flying back, her inner walls clenching and rippling.
“But right now”—he snaked his free hand up her body to palm her breast—“I want to take you right here.”
So hard he ached, Teague began pumping his fingers inside her. He groaned in the back of his throat as she moved into his thrusts, rubbing against his cock each time. He loved pleasuring her this way. Loved feeling all that wet heat pulsing around his fingers. Loved hearing her breath catch each time he zeroed in on a certain spot.
He mattered to her. The thought kept circling around his brain. It also filled him with a very male contentment that fed his possessiveness and taunted him to take, use, fuck.
He wasn’t sure he’d mattered to many people, despite having lived a long life during which he’d met many. It wasn’t a small thing to him that he meant something to this woman. A woman who intended to guard his secrets, protect them, protect him; who’d put his safety before what she knew her Prime—her family—would want.
