Page 148 of Born for Lace

The noise is a sharp pang.

I watch as two prongs slice through the air and connect with his chest, almost in slow motion.

There is a pause.

My heart beats in my ears.

Then his third eyelid closes, and his body convulses, heavy, thick muscles jerking around uncontrollably. He falls to his knees but doesn’t collapse.

Holds himself swaying.

Regret and grief pummel me.

He growls through the electrified sensation like a beast refusing to be taken down by a mob of tiny, vicious animals. He fists his hands, fighting the wreckage, the take-down of his body.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I sob, wanting to go to him and hold him, but I can barely see through the salty pinch of my sorrow.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Five seconds later, he reaches for the prongs and draws them from his chest. As he hauls himself to his full seven-foot-one height, the place between his thighs expands. I swear I hear the bunker gasp to behold such a powerful, erotic being.

“Lagos…”

He heaves, staring at me.

“Lagos?”

“Good,” he finally states, voice deep and gruff like tyres on a rocky track. “That will slow me down…Fuck.”

Unable to breathe, I merely watch as Lagos takes a single step forward, but I don’t shuffle away from him, only arch my neck to hold his dark gaze.

I inhale the thick air and scent and taste his metallic presence.

Across his torso, his inked skin rolls over dense, chiselled muscles still twitching and contracting with electricity.

Near-black eyes bore into me.

Over me.

Then down on me…

I bite my lower lip when he grabs his dick through his pants and palms the hard bulge, and for a moment, I think he might grab me, kiss me, and drag me into one of the rooms, spread me open and shove inside me, but?—

Spero starts to cry.

I exhale in a rush, and finally step backward, needing space and air. “I have to… I have to…”

Check on Spero…

“Go to the infant,” he finishes, heated eyes on me, hand on his hard dick. “Go. What I need can wait.”

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