He glided in, eased by my desire, and I gasped at the delicious, full sensation of him.
Lachlan held my gaze as he took his time, gentle, slow, deliberate flexes of his hips as he built a torturous friction between us.
“More,” I demanded, dragging my nails down his hard chest, my thumbs catching on his nipples. “Lachlan, more.”
In answer, he took hold of my hands and pinned them at either side of my head.
The sensation was unexpectedly erotic, and he bared his teeth in a savage, satisfied grin as he felt my reaction and kept up the slow lovemaking that was driving me wild with impatience.
Just when I felt my climax nearing, Lachlan stopped. He held himself over me, not moving.
“What are you doing?” I gasped in outrage.
In answer, he kissed me, lazy, sweet, sexy kisses that had me canting my hips in the hope of restarting the good stuff. But Lachlan withheld all but his mouth. I whimpered in exasperation, pushing against his hold on my wrists.
Lachlan groaned and to my utter relief began to move.
Breaking our kiss, Lachlan watched me as he started his torture all over again.
There was no other word for it but exquisite torture because just as before, as I hovered on the peak, he halted.
My protests were swallowed in his kisses, holding everything but his lips still as he explored my mouth and then trailed slow, hungry kisses down my neck to my breasts. When I tried to push my hips into his, he nipped lightly at my collarbone and shot me a warning look.
“You’re a bastard.” It would’ve sounded more convincing if it hadn’t ended in a moan of pleasure as he covered my nipple with his mouth.
What was he doing to me?
I found myself murmuring gibberish, pleading, begging for him to keep moving.
He did.
But then he repeated his cycle of torment.
Finally, my body could take no more. I was strung so taut, I was almost on the verge of tears, something I’d never experienced before. My body trembled with the need for release, and I wasn’t alone. Lachlan’s expression was harsh with need, the muscles in his arms straining as he held me down.
“Please,” I whispered, vulnerable beneath his hot eyes. “Please, Lachlan.”
Whatever impressive control he’d mastered snapped and he began to thrust. Hard, powerful drives. Savage, desperate, his face etched with fierce want.
Each drive tightened the need inside me, tighter, higher, the tension a coiling promise of bliss.
Then I shattered.
The single most out-of-this-world orgasm exploded through me.
I screamed with release as I came around him, my inner muscles rippling in wave after wave after wave …
Lachlan’s hoarse yell of climax thundered around the room chasing my cries, and he collapsed over me, releasing my wrists as he shuddered and groaned into my ear.
The room was silent except for the sounds of our heavy breathing, but I could still hear my scream and his yell in my head.
What the holy heck was that?
I slapped a hand over my forehead as I tried to recover from the extreme pleasure.
Sex with anyone else was officially forever tainted by this moment.
That wasn’t good! This was temporary! I glared at his ceiling as he pressed a sweet kiss to my shoulder. I did not want to get addicted to sex with someone who was temporary.
Remembering my pleas, the vulnerability, of being putty in his goddamn hands, enjoying the bastard holding me captive beneath his powerful body and talented hips, I stiffened.
Scrambling for the best reason to end this now, I gently shoved Lachlan onto his side to get him off. But he wasn’t ready to detach, his hands reaching for me, touching me, caressing my stomach, my breasts … and making it very difficult to leave his bed.
I glowered at him, confused by my warring desires.
His expression was soft with satisfaction, but his eyes were alert. “What is it?”
I fought hard against the impulse to just lie back down and let him continue touching me. Instead, I took hold of his hand at my breast and pushed it away.
Lachlan scowled, repeating his question silently as he sat up.
“This is too complicated. We should stop,” I said.
The man huffed with disbelief. “Eh, pretty sure neither of us have come harder in our lives. Why stop now?”
Pretending I wasn’t affected by his confession (though secretly delighted I’d given that to him too), I replied, “Because of Mac. I don’t want to come between you two.”
“I thought we went over this? It’s just sex. If we’re both on the same page, then it won’t be a problem. Unless we’re not on the same page?”
No, it was just sex. For now. But even sex could be addictive, and I didn’t want to be constantly comparing him to my future lovers.
Think that ship sailed an orgasm ago.
Okay, I conceded that was most likely true.
If this was just sex, though, then I planned to avoid the guy outside the bedroom. “You’re right. We’re both on the same page. Just sex.” I patted him on the shoulder. “This was great.” And rolled away from him to get out of bed.
Lachlan hauled me back into his chest, and his wandering hand dipped between my legs. “Oh, I’m not done with you yet.”
“I can’t,” I groaned, leaning back into him, my body übersensitive.
But then his fingers worked their magic, and pleasure flooded me. I arched into his touch, seeking more.
“Oh, but I think you can,” he murmured darkly in my ear.
23
Lachlan
Guy was discussing the estate menu. The head chef had come to Lachlan’s office to go over his ideas, and his boss heard the words seasonal, lobsters, cockles, sea bass, kale, asparagus, and leeks … but they had no meaning.
Because Lachlan wasn’t bloody paying attention.
In fact, Lachlan had found it difficult to focus since yesterday afternoon. Despite his wish to stay in bed all day with Robyn, Wakefield called up to his room with a problem, and he’d known it was time to get to back to
