Page 130 of Lamb

Lamb shook his head. “I brought you here to build an opportunity,” he explained, turning over my palms as his fingers began to trace the creases, his soothing gesture. “You wanted your revenge, and so I’ve brought you your chance.”

“My chance …” I could not fathom the possibility. My father still stood tall, as a cold and vengeful god in my mind, and even if I wanted to slaughter him where he stood, I was no different from the girl in the warehouse, chemical rags bandage over my eyes, tied to a chair, that man abandoning me to the murderous whim of my stepmother. Time had passed but all I had done was gain more scars. “I do not think I—”

“No.” Lamb frowned, and I saw the struggle to process the implication of my words. It was outright dismissed as he shook his head, reaching for my hands, grasping them between his own larger, warmer palms. “You are mine,” Lamb said, his eyes squinted with thought, his processor whirring loud enough for me to hear. “I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

“It is a beautiful notion, but—”

“No, Ash. You don’t understand.” Lamb’s hands squeezed. “For your sake, I can become invincible. I can become your sanctuary. I have never reached the end of my capabilities, andif you wish for it, I will become your untouchable shield. Even in front of your father, I will not fail.”

If I had ever thought Lamb was capable of love, devotion, and affection, I would still never have predicted that this struggled, grand promise would ever leave his lips. I had never known that this man, who had latent emotions and a genius efficient brain, would have something akin to a heart.

I leaned forward, my fingers escaping his palm to find his solid, stubbled jaw. I wrapped my fingers around his chin and tipped his face towards mine. I soaked in those boiling honey eyes, their endless abyss no longer frightening but inviting. I breathed in his scent, finding his lips and closing mine around them. It was soft and sweet, and Lamb let me do as I pleased as I imparted something that words could not show. He might not understand the message, but it was enough for me to pass it on.

“You are capable of love, Lamb,” I breathed, his taste still wet on my lips. “Perhaps not in the way you think, or that people would understand, but it is in your actions. And to me, that is valuable beyond measure.”

I knew Lamb was not convinced, nor would he ever be. But that was okay. It was enough for me to say and for him to listen.

Lamb’s hands found purchase against my neck, his thumb pressing into the softness of my jaw as he tugged me close once more, his scent enveloping me, his taste coating my tongue and lips. He pushed up from his knees, his long legs lifting him high above me as he pressed harder into the kiss. The couch hugged my back, holding me firm as he knelt on the cushions, caging me between his firm thighs.

I gripped his jeans, my fingers tightening in his belt loops, anchoring him to me as I tried to lift my body higher into his. I wanted to feel his firm chest against mine, his armoured abs between my thighs, and his hard length rubbing against my aching core.

Raw emotion turned into feverish lust as my hands clambered higher until I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and yanked them up his back. I wanted him naked. I wanted him on me. And I wanted it now.

Our tender kiss turned ravenous as Lamb’s arms slunk down around my waist, and in a single swift motion, he had me up in the air, my legs latching onto his hips, and my head bowed to keep his lips between mine.

His naked chest was hot against my skin, and my clothes began to itch as I made quick work of my own shirt, breaking the kiss just enough to tear the thin material from my head. I did not care where it landed as we moved through the suite, focusing on where our bodies met and the growing frustration of it not being enough. I wanted more. Ineededmore.

I reached down between us, my tongue still tangling with his, as I fumbled with my jeans, trying to pull the button loose as I quaked in Lamb’s arms.

A wall slammed against my back, my breath catching as it jerked from my lungs.

Lamb’s head dropped as he stared with feverous frustration down at my waist. He pushed my hands aside, making quick work of the button, followed by the zipper, and had the denim halfway down before his hand found home.

My knickers were no match as he slid past the cotton and landed true.

I moaned as his finger slammed straight into my tight channel, the feel of his thick digit rubbing up against my insides making my head spin in circles. My gasping breaths became mewling pants as even just the single digit rocking back and forth inside of me had me grabbing a fistful of his hair as my hips tried to ride his hand.

Lamb pressed me harder against the wall, his head bending into the crook of my neck, his hot, heavy breaths stuck to mybare skin as he pressed soft nips to the swell of my breasts, my bra scratching against my rock-hard nipples.

My rise began to wane as I reached the limit of his single finger. My insides clamped around the digit, begging and pleading for something bigger, wider, hotter.

“Lamb, I want you,” I whimpered, tightening my legs around his waist in urgency. “I want you inside of me.”

Lamb growled, his finger slipping from my core as he wrapped both hands around my arse and the wall disappeared from behind. I hung tighter to his head as he whirled around with lightning speed, and one moment, I was in his arms; the next, I was in free fall.

My stomach lurched as I slammed down into a soft pillowy support. The bed bounced with enthusiastic springs as I was left looking up at the white ceiling, alone.

I flipped onto my stomach, searching through the shapes of the room, trying to find—

A hand pressed against my lower spine, pinning me in place.

“Lamb, what are you—”

His weight leant into my arse as his hot member pressed against my bare back. I felt its imprint, every ridge and bump, searing into my skin like an iron brand.

His hands slid against the edges of my face, and for a moment, something dark crossed my vision.

The blurred shapes before me sharpened as the glasses settled on my face. I stared forward, at my face looking back at me. I was a mess—my hair in a rat’s nest on my head, my face flushed a feverish red, and my lips damp and dewy. Lust screamed from my face.

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