She slowly sucked his nipple into her mouth, circling it with her tongue. He moaned, his whole body tensing beneath her. God, it felt good to bring him to the edge. She sucked again, harder this time, wanting to give him a taste of what was to come. She could taste him, clean and yet somehow masculine. It was intoxicating.
She slid her mouth down to his stomach, kissing each ridge of muscle as she went. Her fingers feathered down the sides of his abdomen, and for a moment he tensed again, waiting for her to attack him.
But she was too far gone for that. Any thought of making him laugh had vanished. She wanted to make him sigh, moan, call out her name. She wanted to drive him crazy in a way nobody ever had before.
She wanted him to remember this night for a long, long time.
Shuffling down, she kissed the skin just above the waistband of his boxer shorts. His erection was tenting the material, and as she hovered over him, his tip grazed the valley between her satin-clad breasts.
Sliding a finger beneath his waistband, she moved her head until her lips were hovering over his tented shorts. Then she kissed the tip, her eyes immediately seeking his to see his response.
His chest hitched. ‘Jesus, I think you already killed me.’
She licked the fabric – and him – turning it dark grey. ‘In that case, welcome to heaven.’
‘Let me touch you,’ he said, still gripping the pillow over his head.
‘Not yet.’ She didn’t doubt for a minute he’d disobey her. He’d done everything he could to make her feel comfortable, powerful. And she was revelling in it.
Hooking her thumbs beneath the elastic, she pulled his pants down. He sprang up, thick and veined. She licked her lips, seeing liquid bead at his tip. Reaching her tongue out, she scooped it from her skin.
‘Are you trying to make me beg?’
‘Oh, you can beg,’ she said, smiling. ‘You can definitely beg.’
‘Put your lips on me.’ The rough tone of his voice made her feel even hotter. Was this what tomorrow night was going to feel like? Was she going to be the one lying with her arms above the head, hearing his harsh commands as he dominated her body? Even the thought of it made her shiver.
‘Please?’ she prompted.
‘Put your lips on me… please.’
In her peripheral vision she could see his hands releasing the pillow by his head. ‘Keep your hands up,’ she told him.
‘I want to touch you.’
‘No. Leave them there.’
‘Or what?’
‘Or I’ll stop.’
Lachlan sighed, but he kept his arms where they were. ‘You win.’
She grinned up at him, her lips less than an inch away from where he so clearly needed her. ‘No, Lachlan, I think you’
ll find you do.’
18
Virtue is beauty
– Twelfth Night
A hand sliding softly down her back woke her up. Lucy blinked, her eyes slowly becoming accustomed to the light that was shining through the small gaps in the linen curtains. Her lips were dry, her whole body stiff where she’d been lying. A glance at the clock on the table next to her told her it was almost nine a.m.
And those insistent fingers, still caressing her skin, told her she wasn’t alone.
‘Good morning.’