Leather & Lark (The Ruinous Love Trilogy, #2) (87)
“I didn’t say you could move.”
Lark gets back into position on her hands and knees, but it looks like it takes great effort to tear her gaze from my body, a detail that makes my heart surge beneath my bones. “I’ve been tested,” I say as I shift one knee onto the bed and then the other, the motion eliciting a shiver of anticipation through Lark’s nearly naked body. “I’m clear. Are you on contraception?”
“Yes,” she breathes, her voice barely more than a whisper as breaths heave from her chest. “I want you, Lachlan. Please.”
I roll the head of my cock across her clit in slow circles, then notch it at her entrance as she trembles, only to bring it back to her clit again in a maddening tease. “You can beg for me better than that.”
“Please, Lachlan. I need to feel you. I need you inside me. I need you to make me come.” There’s a moment of pause, a held breath. Uncertainty hangs over her and I roll my cock over her pussy, waiting her out. “I need to be fucked by my husband.”
My motion slows as her words sink in and settle in my chest. And then I position my cock at her entrance and push in, just the tip, and relish the relief in Lark’s responding moan.
“It’s a damn good thing you got that ice, duchess, because I’m going to fucking ruin this tight cunt of yours.” I push in a little deeper and tremble as her pussy grips my erection. “When I said I was going to fuck my wife until she couldn’t walk, I meant it.”
I slam to the base of my erection and we both cry out as pleasure and need consume us. I pull back to the tip and do it again. And again. And again until I pick up a rhythm of long, deep strokes that glide through Lark’s heat.
Lark whimpers and moans and begs for more. She chants my name. I push her upper body against the mattress and grip the harness. I piston into her, every stroke deep and merciless, just like she asks for when she begs for me to go harder, deeper. And when I sense the orgasm building at the base of my spine, an electric tension that hums through my nerves, I reach around and circle her clit until Lark screams, her back bowed, her body trembling as she unravels. Her pussy tightens around my erection. I can’t hold back, spilling ropes of cum as deep as I can inside her until I’m shaking and barely able to kneel, my heart a deafening hum in my ears that blankets all other sound.
I pull out and collapse next to Lark and gather her to me. Her body trembles in the aftermath of her orgasm, my breath unsteady against her back. Euphoria and relief settle in the silence that lies over us and cools our sweat. We don’t talk for a long while as my heart settles into a steady rhythm and her breathing slows. Lark traces patterns on my arm, melodies in my skin, and before long she’s humming. Her voice is soft and content. It’s the first time I really realize how much we say to each other without words. How we’ve started to grow together. This was never meant to be permanent, but suddenly when I picture my future, I can’t see it without the presence of her notes in the dark.
I turn her over beneath me and stare down into her face. She smiles, her skin glowing in the dim light.
“Hey,” Lark whispers. Her finger traces a line across my chest, following patterns of black ink.
“Hi.” I press a kiss to her forehead. One to her cheekbone. One to the side of her nose. Her fingertips trace my back as I follow the line of her jaw, then her neck. With her lips at my ear, she shimmies a hand between us and grips my length, my cock hard again and already desperate for more of her touch, her heat.
“I thought you said you were going to ruin my pussy,” she coos in my ear as she runs the tip of my erection through our cum gathered at her entrance.
“Duchess,” I warn as I push into her heat to the sound of her wanton moan. “You’re not going to be able to sit down tomorrow without thinking of me.”
“That had better be a promise.”
And it is.
I lose track of the hours. Lose count of how many times she breathes my name, or screams it, or begs with it. I don’t know how many times she comes. The sky beyond the curtainless windows is turning from black to indigo when we finally stop. Lark’s body is a boneless, exhausted, beautiful ruin of sweaty skin and tangled hair and trembling flesh. But she smiles at me when I back off the bed and stare down at her. It’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen her.
“What are you doing?” she asks as I slide my briefs and jeans on.
“Taking Bentley out. I’m sure he could use a break.”
“You coming back?”
“Of course I’m coming back,” I say as I fold the covers down for her to slip beneath them. “I think you’d murder me and sew my skin into a chew toy if I permanently left with your dog.”
“I meant here.” Lark taps the free pillow.
I hesitate for a moment before I pull on my shirt. There’s conflict in Lark’s eyes as she watches me, as though she’s not sure she should have asked. “Do you want me to?”
Lark nods. “Yeah. I think I do.”
“Want me to bring back some ice?” I ask with a wicked smile, and she giggles.
“I think I’ll survive, unless you’re planning on fucking me in the ass when you get back. In that case, yes.”
I grin like it’s a joke, but my blood instantly heats and my cock hardens.
Lark settles in beneath the covers and I place a kiss to her temple before turning to leave. Her eyes are still on me when I pause at the threshold of her door and look at her over my shoulder.