Page 96 of Born for Lace

ChapterTwenty-Nine

Lagos

Fuck.

Dahlia.

Little flower.

I roll her to her side, careful it’s the side with perfectly intact ribs. She must be in pain, but she holds the ache with such demure grace.

I wish I’d killed that Shadow slower now. If I had the chance to go back, I’d take my time—enjoy it.

Careful with my little flower, I slide my palm down her thigh, to her knee, and back again. So fucking soft. So fucking untouched. So fucking mine.

She smells like sex.

And me.

My cock leaks, ready to fuck her again. I could have kept going the first time, could have blown my nuts inside her, and continued immediately. I never need downtime. I can keep going. Can be hard most of the day.

I stroke my knuckles down her spine over the fabric of her white slip-dress, and she arches to the gentle pressure, little hairs rising along her arms. Spine bowing, her arse lifts toward me.

Sliding between the crease, I stop above her little rim, where I circle the taut muscles but don’t touch them. She moans, then stops with a gasp, perhaps not ready for that. “Do you want that, little flower?”

“You shouldn’t,” she pants. “It’s… Strange. Too strange.”

“I’ll do whatever I want with this little body now,” I growl, but listen. My muscles always listen to her for some fucking reason. I don’t have time, lubricant, or patience to loosen her up for me anyway.

I continue down to her wet pussy and slide two fingers through her hot, swollen lips.Fuck.

So tight.

Too tight.

Hungry need drives my hips forward. I finger-fuck her swollen channel until she shudders and drips with my cum and her slick fluids. And her moans… Fuck me, so fucking loud and heedless.

“This pussy”—I speed up, skirting around the flat muscle inside her that insists I press back— “is mine.”

Darkness cloaks the room, it must be late or early, so I’m certain Tomar will hear everything.

With my bicep tucked under her head, I wrap my arm around to possess her throat with my fist. Hold her to me, support her body from jerking too violently as I work the first five inches of my cock into her from behind.

“Lagos,” she says, my name a needy moan in the base of her throat.

“That’s it…” I thrust into her, holding her body like it’s mine, not hers, restricting her movements and taking. Taking. Taking. “Take my cock.”

I grip the root of my cock while I fuck her, squeezing the thick base that doesn’t fit inside her tight hole.

Groans rumble from my throat, animalistic and primal as her pussy clenches and squeezes me, milking my shaft in a frantic inexperienced way.

“I- I…” Long moans roll through her lips to the sweetest cadence. “It’s happening again.”

She comes.

“That’s it. You’re so responsive,” I praise her.

She comes easily for me, the sweetest sounds of pleasure purring through her lips. I’ll forever lock them in my mind, in my iron-blood, to keep for when she is at the Common Community.

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