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Katya
IsleepinLachlan’sbed again. Turns out he’s a fan ofThe Big Bang Theorylike me. We laugh at the same punch lines. The guy has a wicked sense of humor. He’s smart, too.
When a movie previews after the show, I say, “I’ve been wanting to see that. Can we watch it?”
“Of course.” He sits lazily on his California King, shirtless with black sweatpants. God, he’s beautiful. Even with the scars all over his body. So very male and strong. I feel so safe with him.
“Thank you,” I say, getting up. “I’m going to make popcorn.”
Balor dropped off a new phone for me, and I ordered microwave popcorn from the app Lachlan uses to get his groceries. One of Lachlan’s guards picked it up and left it on the doorstep. I microwave the popcorn and bring it back to the bed. Sitting up with his warm ivory, damaged skin, Lachlan looks perfect against the rough texture of the tufted, black leather headboard.
“Are you okay with me eating in your bed?” I ask him, holding the bowl in front of me.
“Are you a messy eater?”
“No,” I answer quickly. “Will you be mad if I drop a few kernels?”
A dark eyebrow arches into his forehead. “You’ll have to test me.” His voice is laced with carnal temptation.
I climb in and playfully drop a few on the bed. “Oh, no! Sorry.”
“Bad girl.” He picks up a dropped kernel, but instead of putting it back in the bowl, he pops it into his mouth. He teases me with those full lips folding in the snack. Before I can pick another bite, he reaches in, and I think he’ll eat that, too. But he lifts it to my lips. “Open for me, little wife.” His deep voice pulls at my core.
I do and let him drop the popped corn on my tongue.
He growls. “Show me that tongue again.”
I chew and swallow. “What?”
He picks up another piece of popped corn. “Open.”
Feeling bold, I slide my tongue out. The bowl is pushed aside, and he pulls me under him. His knees spread, creating a pocket for me to lie under him without being crushed, but I’m fully caged. He tugs down the thin strap of my tank top, exposing a hard nipple. I gasp when his lips close around the aching nub.
“You’re fucking sweet,” he groans into my skin.
“That feels so good, Lachlan.”
Saying his name, lifts his eyes to me. “Your face looks like it’s healing.” He strokes my sensitive cheek. “Good.”
The ointment I’ve been putting on my lip has sped up the healing process and the ice packs I rotate on my eye and cheek have brought the swelling and bruising down. “I like the way you look at me.”
“I like the way you look at me. With no fear.” He lowers his mouth to me and sips from my lips. “Is this okay?”
“It’s so okay.”
Low and throaty, he says, “You like kissing me?”
“I do.” I let him devour me, and it gets wild, like a pack of firecrackers going off all at once. His velvety tongue strokes mine in a carnal rhythm. Somehow, I know what to do, to kiss him the way he wants. Even how to close my mouth around his tongue.
His eyes fly open, and he squeezes my hips. “What time do you need to be at school tomorrow?” he asks with his hard length rubbing against me.
I know I told him, but he’s got a lot on his mind. “Nine a.m. We’ll need to leave here around eight.”
He glances at the clock. It’s coming up on ten p.m. “I’ll need more time than that.”
He rolls back, but keeps our hips touching. At one point, he puts his arm around me, feeding me on and off.
When the movie starts, he gently kisses my forehead. “I really like kissing you, and I want more of it. I want all of you, Katya.”
