“What if you just did what you wanted?"
I licked my bottom lip. "I don't know. I have never done that."
"I dare you to do what you want tonight, Saff. Tell me. Be honest." His voice had gone husky, pitching even lower, quieter, more intimate. "What is it you want to do? I know what I want to do, but I'm going to need you to tell me because I want to make sure I’ve got it right."
I wanted to tell him. I wanted to be the kind of woman who could be daring and just say the words.
His voice was low. Barely above a whisper. He angled his nose toward mine, gently brushing them together. His lips never touched mine, but his breath was a caress. “Tell me what you want. Do you want to get up and leave my arms and walk out the door? Or do you want to stay? Nothing has to happen. I can just keep holding you until morning.”
My pussy had a lot to say about it. Bitch stay. If you leave, I will kill you. I felt the question in my bones. I did not want to leave here. "I want to stay."
A slow smile spread over his lips. "Excellent. So you'll stay. Why don’t you text Tabatha?"
I rolled over and grabbed my phone and fired off a text.
When I was done, his finger lightly played with one of the slim braids that framed my face. "These are so small. It must be a bitch to put in and take out."
I nodded. "I go somewhere and have it done. I have a particular set of skills, but it doesn’t include braiding."
"They're beautiful. You look stunning with them."
"Lock?"
His voice was low as he murmured at me, "Hmm?"
"I want you to kiss me."
I watched as his tongue peeked out to touch his bottom lip, and his teeth scraped along, chasing his tongue.
His hand reached up and cupped my face. “You’re fucking beautiful. I saw you in the club, and you were so open but guarded at the same time. The challenge in your eyes was like a beacon. You looked like you were trying to be happy for someone else. And it made me want to know why you were guarded, why you were sad, why you were bothering to pretend for anyone. When you met my gaze, you weren't guarded at all. I could tell you were hurting about something. There was this locked in spark. I felt like I could see you, the real you. I think that for the real you, a club is the last place on earth you wanted to be. Yes, you like to dance, but you'd rather do it at a party with friends than at a loud club full of anonymous strangers. I can see the real you who is scared to disappoint anyone. You are desperate to prove that you belong even though they should be the ones proving they are worthy of you because you are a fucking a queen and I can see it. It's simmering right there. Just under the surface. And every time there's a flare of it, you tamp it down, make it smaller, hide it."
I tried not to shift under the scrutiny and the discomfort. Lachlan King had seen too much, and I wanted to shake him off. I tried to duck my head, but he gently slipped a finger under my chin and tilted my head up so I was meeting his gaze once again. "Don't hide from me now."
I shook my head, blinking tears back. "You don't even know me."
“Oh, I see you. And I’m fucking desperate to touch you.”
I smiled up at him, feeling the odd thrill of having him see me so clearly when nobody else did. "So, are you going to kiss me or not, Mr. King?"
The corner of his lip pulled up in a smirk again, and his gaze dipped to my lips. "It depends."
"On what?"
"If you think you're ready."
"Oh, I'm ready. I can handle whatever you dish out."
His chuckle was low and throaty, and I wanted to bask in that laugh, that cocky, knowing laugh. His grip tightened in my hair.
As he brought his lips closer to mine and hovered just over my lips, his voice was soft. He whispered, "I'm never going to be the same." And then the jolt of electricity hit me hard as our lips brushed, sending an electrical charge through me.
The first kiss was soft. A warning.
The next was an exploration as he pressed firmer and his tongue chased over my lips. And then when I gave him access, I heard him moan and curse low. Then I knew exactly what he’d meant. I was in a whole heap of trouble. This wasn't any ordinary kiss. This wasn't some random thing that could be walked away from. This was something I was going to feel soul deep tomorrow. Lachlan King could kiss. Worse, Lachlan King could own my soul if I let him.
His tongue was seeking. Exploring. When I parted my lips to let him inside, he gave me an appreciative grunt, and then delved in, fully exploring, taking his time, finding all the nooks and crannies and what made me groan. He put everything into one kiss, into one taste, into making sure that if it was the last one he was ever going to get, he was going to do it thoroughly.
All I could do was hold on for dear life as my hands slid up into his hair, my nails scouring his scalp and me trying to angle my body closer, tighter into his.
Somewhere between Lachlan's lips pressing over mine and his tongue staking its claim, he rolled on top of me and settled between my thighs, the motion bringing the length of his erection against me, and I gasped.
Lock tore his lips from mine, his eyes glassy and unfocused as he groaned. "Fuck, I love the way you taste."
I nodded. "I—" I swallowed hard. "Y-your dick is... wow."
He choked out a laugh and dropped his forehead to mine. “Talking dirty to me already.”
I laughed. “You’re huge.” It was the truth.
"You are certainly good for my ego."
I really needed a muzzle. "Something tells me, with an erection like that, you don't have an ego problem."
His chuckle was raspy as he brought his lips back to mine. "Fuck, I want to keep you."
The way he said it, I wanted to be kept. God, was that an option? Could I let him keep me?
I didn't care. Right now, I didn't want this to stop.
Lachlan was more careful now, angling his hips away from mine so he wasn't putting the full force of his weight on me. "Fuck, you're so beautiful." He dragged his lips along my jaw, onto my neck. "Your scent, it's been driving me mad all night. What is that?"
"I wish I knew. It was my mother's."
"I'm going to find out what that is and buy bottles of it."
He was welcome to try. Hell, I had tried. His nose ran up the column of my neck, and then his tongue traced along, following the path. "I want to eat you whole."
"I'm yours,” I whispered.
The words and grunts that followed next, I couldn't remember. All I knew was that Lachlan's hands were almost as skilled as his mouth. His hands slid into my hair, gentle with my braids but still applying pressure to my scalp as he angled me, his mouth guiding back for more. I learned that he could kiss for hours. Make it his whole damn meal.
The more impatient I grew for him to hurry the show along, the longer he took, savoring me, tasting me. When I started to move my hips, seeking the heat of his erection, he hissed in my ear. "Fucking hell, I know. I know. I feel it too. I just... I want to take my time."
I groaned in frustration then, and he laughed. But when I slid my hands up under his shirt, he helped me to take it off.
And then we were a scramble of limbs. I tossed the T-shirt he’d given me quickly. When he pulled at the knot holding my top in place, I frowned at it when it did not give.