Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
I take a tentative step forward and the floor creaks. He glances up. His shoulder wound is bleeding again, and he has a new cut on his opposite arm. He doesn’t even seem to notice.
I walk towards him and grab the first aid kit and find a needle. I take a shot of whiskey for myself before sitting down on his lap to clean his wounds. There isn’t a word spoken between us. He lets me mend him, and I go about it carefully, making sure I do a good job. I don’t like seeing his pain. I don’t like seeing anyone’s pain. Most people don’t know that about me. I pretend shit doesn’t bother me, but it does. Right now, seeing him like this, it fucking bothers me.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him softly as I put a fresh bandage over his shoulder and move on to the other cut.
“Ye don’t need to do that,” he says.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind.”
“Ye look grand in my clothes,” he rasps.
I force a smile but don’t reply. I raided his drawers today since Ronan refused to go get my shit. I’m wearing one of his tee shirts and a pair of sweat pants I had to roll down at the waist.
He reaches up and grabs my chin, and I reluctantly bring my gaze to his. I haven’t been making eye contact with him, and he notices. He notices how uncomfortable I am with his discomfort. He watches me for a long moment, his eyes flicking back and forth between mine. I want to know what he’s thinking. He doesn’t say. He brushes his fingers across my jaw and my eyes flutter shut. How can such a simple touch make me feel so much? My body responds to him, but even worse, so does my mind. I don’t even think he’s doing it on purpose. It’s just the cause and effect of being near him.
His body is tight and tense beneath me, and I want to take that away. For a few minutes, I try to block out everything else. All of the questions and the guilt and the games I’m playing. I set the kit aside and do what feels right.
I kneel down before him and drag my fingers up his thighs. I’ve never done this before, but Scarlett and I have talked about it. She even jokingly showed me once on a banana.
This is different. Lachlan is one hundred percent male. He’s been with a lot of women, I’m sure. Most of whom could probably do this way better. I don’t want to think about that. I’ve got a whole swarm of butterflies in my belly right now and I’m not sure what I’m doing anymore. But I know one thing, and it’s that I want to please him.
I inch my fingers toward his groin and cup him through his jeans. His eyes darken, and almost immediately, I feel him harden beneath me. Encouraged, I start to rub him through the material. He’s hung as all get out, I know that much.
A ravenous hunger takes over my body as I watch the way I affect him. How his eyes are heavy with lust and every breath he draws is more ragged than the last. He’s acutely aware of my every movement, and I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from his. They are savagely beautiful right now in the depths of their melancholy need.
I reach for his belt and unbuckle it before pulling down his zipper. The sight of his bulge beneath soft cotton briefs makes my own breath hitch. I try to remember everything Scarlett told me about this. She said it’s about the slow burn. The anticipation. I want to give that to Lach. I want to take all of his pain from him.
I lean forward and rub my cheek against the fabric, and he twitches beneath me. Intense heat burns beneath my skin as I nuzzle closer, dragging my nose along and inhaling him. He smells so fucking good, even this part of his body. It’s the same scent I’ve become accustomed to, but also a little musky too.
His hand comes down to tangle with the long strands of my hair, stroking it as I kiss my way along his cloth covered length. Already, he’s making these pained little noises in his throat and I know I’m doing something right. At the top of the fabric, a tiny wet spot has seeped through from his arousal. Letting my baser desires take control of the situation, I lick and then suck that fabric into my mouth.
Lachlan groans, and his grip on my hair tightens. He grinds his hips up against my face and then yanks his briefs down. Jesus, he’s fricken huge. His cock is so swollen and plump it looks painful. I peek up at him from beneath my lashes.
“Suck on it, sweetheart.”
His voice is rough with emotion, betraying how much he really needs this. It does something to me. I want to give it to him just as badly. Unsure where to begin, my hand wraps around the base and strokes him up and down twice. The skin is like velvet, smooth and soft and hot beneath my palm. I bring the head to my lips and dart my tongue out to swirl it around the tip.
He jerks beneath my touch and it encourages me. I continue to stroke him with the hand that’s wrapped around his shaft as I softly pull him into my mouth. This isn’t so bad. He tastes… good, actually. When I look up at him, Lachlan’s struggling to keep his eyes open, and he’s groaning almost every time I suck on him.
I’m soaking wet from the sight of him like this. He’s fucking gorgeous, this man. Brutally and devastatingly handsome, and right now… he’s mine. He’s dark and mysterious and bad for me in every way, but it only seems to draw me in further. I want him. I want him so fucking much it scares me. But I can’t let myself go that far. Not yet.