Page 56 of Born for Lace

His body isn’t touching mine, but I feel the entire length radiating from my ankles to the last red hair on my head.

“I didn’t like that,” he states.

My brain is mush. “Didn’t like what?”

With one hand holding my hip, the other slides across my belly and up between my breasts. He washes across my chest lazily, possessively. “Filth coming from your sweet lips.”

I can’t move. Parts of me want to tell him to leave, and much stronger parts want every inch of him to stay. Close. “That’s ayouissue, Lagos,” I manage to say, and am so proud of myself.

But he continues, unfazed. “You talking about sex and getting fucked—” His hand lowers, huge and warm, caressing my belly. “By some Common boy.” Every tiny muscle beneath his touch clenches and awakens. “Most of fucking all,” he grinds out, “I despise the way Tomar looks at you.”

I moan uncontrollably.

“Your moans are so fucking sweet. I wonder if you moaned in your sleep or if these are also mine.” His praise is a deep caress, and I want more. When his firm torso meets my back, the long, hard surface is like a wall closing in. I shiver.Oh my,I’m caught between massive hands and his body.Caught…

I feel a private place between my legs clench and unclench, restless. Demanding. My feet shuffle apart on their own accord, welcoming him. A big hand moves down into my knickers.

My heart thrashes in my neck, between my ears, beating all over my skin. It is any wonder I can hear him, but his voice is clear and depthless. So deep it might be spoken directly into my mind.

“Do you want to know what a Lace Girl is to a Trade man? What they really are?”

His hand cups me between the thighs, and it is so big that his palm holds my pelvis while his fingers thread under me. Unable to stop myself, I rock in the cradle of his hand, my head spinning with confusion and something else…

“A tight cunt to fuck his sorrows into each night. She stays sweet. Stays pure. Humble. And she doesn’t see the effect she has on him. How she makes him vulnerable, unravel.” He presses something hard into my lower back. As I realise what it is, my eyes widen on the rocky structure ahead. “Howobsessedhe is with her. The Trade doesn’t want her to realise how much control she ultimately has.Fuckno.” He grinds against me and his long, thick middle finger skims my slit, drawing a whimper of need up my throat. “They can't let her have it. It'stheircontrol.”

“Lagos…” I should stop him, but then two strong fingers slide up and down messily, touching me. I grind against his palm, and he hisses, grabbing methere.Hard.

“Stop, little flower,” he rasps, his timbre like gargled gravel. “You’re hurt. Let me play with you while you’re fragile and can’t stop me. Stay still. It’s not your fault. You’re not giving me your innocent mind. I am taking it from you.”

I drop my head back, meeting his hard torso as he awakens nerves that I didn’t know I had. He builds them up, up, up. Then there is no cave. No water. No pain. No salty spray. Just his fingers sliding up and down, and then?—

He edges one inside.

My mouth drops open and long moans escape my lips.

“Are you okay, Dahlia?” Tomar calls from around the corner.

I panic.

“Lagos!” I squirm.

“Answer him,” Lagos orders.

“What?”

“Answer him, or I will. And I will tell him exactly what I’m doing to your sweet body.”

“I’m… I’m fine,” I call out.

“Do you need me?” Tomar’s voice sails from behind a rock.

I feel Lagos’ chest rumble with annoyance, so I quickly spit out, “No, I’m a bit naked at the moment. A bit…”Vulnerable.“I’m fine.”

“Alright…” The word plays along a dubious tone, tight with suspicion.

Lagos growls, and his hard length beats against my spine like a threat. “Good girl. There are many things you should despise about me. But the way I make you come with my fingers isn't one of them, little flower.” He slides two long fingers inside me but stops at his first knuckle.

“Oh!”I squeeze my eyes shut, fending off any more stimulation, waiting for him to push through but?—

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