I pull back slightly. “Lucky,” I beg, breathless.
“Hmm?” His tongue circles me, and I shudder.
Words are hazy, hard to find. “Lucky, please. I need you to fuck me.” In this moment, the wicked word fits in my mouth. In this moment, my mouth is filthy, my mind debauched, my body lost to carnal, wanton sin. This moment is for cocks and cunts and tongues and obscene orgasms. “I need— I want you to—”
His tongue falters on me, and my body wants to scream.
Don’t stop. I want him inside me desperately.
“Lucky!” I repeat urgently. “God—”
Then the fingers that had been plunging inside me crook and rub against an incredible, magic spot, and he sucks hard on my clit. Unable to help myself, I explode against his fingers, pleasure shooting through my spine and arching my back.
As if my release sets his off, his cock tightens under my fist, and he thrusts up into it desperately until I take him in my mouth again.
“Fuck, fuck. Take it, beautiful, taste me. Drink me down. Every fucking drop.”
Caught off guard and shuddering through my climax, I swallow the hot spurts that hit the back of my throat.
When he’s done, I tremble against him, my tongue still lapping in tiny licks, until he tugs my head back and off him.
Lucky gives me a few open-mouthed, carnal kisses as I sit up on his face, riding out my last shudders of pleasure. His fingers slide out of me, and I sigh. In moments, he has me spun around and tucked against his side, his hands running over every bit of skin he can reach.
Lucky presses a kiss to my forehead. “Good game, beautiful. You’re a natural.”
I go to scowl at him, thinking he’s teasing again, but the warm, happy light in his eyes melts it before it begins. Giving up, I huff a laugh into his chest. “You’re impossible.”
Part of me wants to ask why he didn’t do what I asked, why he didn’t finish inside me, but I’m too shivery with pleasure to care overmuch.
I lift a hand to my mouth and surreptitiously wipe the moisture from around my lips. His hand is lazy in my now sex-fucked hair.
“You, um, wouldn’t have a breath mint would you?” I mumble, embarrassed.
Lucky snorts, then starts laughing. He pushes me onto my back and then the hand in my hair fists as he brings his mouth to mine and kisses me deep. His tongue works mine and, despite my very recent orgasm and the fact that I know where both of our mouths have just been, my body begins to tingle.
When he finally pulls back slightly, he rubs his nose against mine.
“You’re too cute. Don’t stress so much.” Lucky grins, and his dimple creases his cheek. “Just remember, it’s been years since any of us have gotten laid. We’re happy for what we can get.”
Ouch.
My smile withers.
Lucky’s eyes widen. “Whoa, hey, I don’t mean it like that! I just meant that something like how your breath smells is so far down the list of priorities right now. Y’know, when I have a fucking half-naked bombshell in my arms after she just blew my mind. Never mind what Jaykob said. He’s a complete asshat and even he is clearly into you.”
My cheeks burn and I try to twist away to avoid his earnest gaze, but he presses his forehead to mine.
“If you think I’m anything but completely kid-in-a-candy-store-who-also-has-ten-million-puppies level of happy to have you here, you need a brain transplant.”
It is really hard to argue when a man’s slightly sweaty and decadently hard body is pressed up against you, I decide, and I slowly relax back into him. It’s amazing how he does that. Just smashes right through every insecurity I have.
A moment later, I’m running my fingers through his short beard, enjoying the soft, springy bristles.
“I like your beard,” I whisper.
I’m fairly sure my inner thighs are now thoroughly abraded, to add to the collection of sex badges I’m accumulating, but I’ll take it. Turns out, beard burn is hot. When his lips curve, I trace their shape as well. He lets me touch him as much as I want, watching me with warm, hooded eyes, like he’s just soaking in the happiness the same way I am.
“You want some more monkey mix?” he eventually asks.
I laugh, sitting up beside him, keeping myself in the curve of his body. Touching him like this is addictive. I never knew I was a cuddler. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I’m a bit of a lightweight. I’ll be no good to you if I have much more.”
He teases a lock of hair that’s hanging loose over my shoulder. “Oh,” he says casually, “I just figured you might need some Dutch courage. Y’know. Considering you have that dare to do and all.”
My liquid body freezes solid again, and I stare at him with wide eyes. “Um. Right now?”
“Oh yeah, beautiful. Right now.”
Chapter 18
Beau
SURVIVAL TIP #301
When in doubt,
fight it out.
T he first drops of daylight spill through the trees, a lazy, watery shine that steeps into the darkness, brightening it in slow drips. The apple tree stretches its limbs to an easy breeze, and Bristlebrook nestles into the gray cliff face, sleepy and shadowed in the early morning light.
Hooking my foot behind Jasper’s leg, I slam my shoulder into his chest and bring him down hard into the grass.
Again.
Today really isn’t his day.
Then again, today doesn’t seem to be anyone’s day, except maybe Lucky’s.
The five of us usually meet out on the lawn at oh-five-hundred for our daily workout, but this morning Jayk’s barn was silent and sullen, Dom had to drag Jasper out of the surveillance room when he didn’t turn up—by God Almighty, I don’t know why he was in there at that hour and not sleeping like a normal human—and Lucky strolled in out of the woods a full half hour late, grinning from ear to ear.
Of course, I may have also tried to bail on training this morning. I had grand plans of stealing Eden away for a few hours, taking her for a stroll, picking wildflowers sparkling with morning dew, kissing her frosty fingers warm, and settling in on a thick picnic rug with a thermos of piping hot tea to watch the sun rise . . . except that when I went looking for her, she and Lucky were nowhere to be found.
But Dom was, and he dragged me outside like a wayward puppy right alongside Jasper, once again blowing to hell any chance I had of spending time alone with Eden.
Damn it, where did Lucky and Eden go? I know they were in the house at some point yesterday—it was impossible for any of us to miss the Twister extravaganza. Lucky, little asshole that he is, set it up in the music room, and that damn room is designed for sound to travel. Their giggles, squeals, and moans floated through every single room of the lodge.
And I can’t even be mad about it.
Those sounds are just about the most delightful thing I’ve heard in years, and I’m stupid happy that Eden had a good day, even if it wasn’t with me.
Wouldn’t have stopped me from hauling her out of Lucky’s arms the second I tracked her down, though.
Under me, Jasper makes a sour sound in the back of his throat, then taps out. I don’t let him up this time. His face is red and sweaty—it always is when we spar—but there are rough, tired rings around his eyes that I don’t like, and he’s been feral as a pissed-off badger all morning.