Page 76 of Born for Lace

Oh my, he is stunning.

Not like a flower or a painting.

His beauty is too unforgettable to be simple lines and perfect patterns. His beauty is a forest fire, wild and unpredictable, rugged and fierce. You get lost in it… Or burnt.

Without thinking, without a drop of sense, I hover my lips above his, drawing in his warm, deep breath.

“What are you doing, little flower?”

I gasp. “Please don’t move or wake up.” My lips brush his while I talk, and I nearly collapse for more. “Please, keep your eyes closed. I want to be alone with you. I want to pretend you won't throw hurtful words at me."

He is humming as I speak, ignoring my words, as my lips touch his, his hand feeding between my hair and neck. He grips the nape of my neck with gentle dominance and pulls my lips to meet his.

I. Melt.

Energy skitters along my skin.

He tastes sweet and metallic, and his eyes are still closed as his mouth moves over mine slowly, leisurely. Perfectly. Lagos tastes my lower lip, groaning through me as he sweeps his tongue in to taste more. And more.

My eyes flutter shut.

I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been kissed like this before. It is so much, so intimate, so personal. I want to bounce and giggle, but that would break the kiss. The kiss I never want to end.

My pulse buzzes in every cell and my hands fumble with where to be. On the mattress? On his bare chest?

I end up leaning with my palms flexing on his hard chest, supporting myself and my torso so my rib doesn’t cause a scene and ruin the moment.

This moment.

The moment Lagos kisses me.

He lifts his free hand to the other side of my neck, thumbs sliding under my jaw, one stroking my pulse up and down, both guiding me against him.

My core clenches.

I can’t stop the moans rolling from me now, can’t stifle them, then?—

He breaks our kiss and presses my forehead to his. “Shh, little flower. I don’t want Tomar to hear your sweet moans. They are mine.”

I pant in the darkness of my eyelids, senses stolen, along with all the air in my lungs. “Please.” I don’t know what I’m begging for.

More.

So much more.

His hum of amusement strokes my face. “It’s not fair, is it?”

“What’s not fair?” I whisper, every muscle frozen on a cliff’s edge, wanting to leap off but not to die, to feel something.

Somethingexplosive.

“The way your cunt begs for me.” The pulse of his dark, vulgar utterance hits my lips, matching the one that flurries in the column of my neck.

I nod, my forehead moving against his. “Yes. It’s not fair.”

“At the next stop, I will take care of that warm, tight place between your thighs. The last time I touched you, you were weak and drugged. This time, you can pretend I made you. Forced you. I will make it all better in secret. In the dark where you yearn for my depravities.”

Oh, my.“Yes.”