Page 26 of Kiss of Smoke

I took a minute to appreciate the sexy stretch of his nude body splayed out like a feast on a serving platter. The man was put together like a Greek statue. Every muscle, every sinew, was perfectly formed. His cock was a thing of beauty, too. It swelled under my regard—nine solid inches topped with a smooth head drizzled with precum.

His voice turned to gravel. “You want me to beg?”

Without breaking eye contact, I sank to my knees, took his shaft in one firm hand, and slowly licked my way around the damp tip.

“Fuck,” he wheezed, his eyes going heavy-lidded. “Fuck.”

I gave him another long, languid swipe of my tongue. In Old Gaelic, I said, “Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck you, Lach,” he rasped in the same language, thrusting against my hand. “You know what I want.”

“Aye, but I want to hear you say it.” With my other hand, I fondled his sac, my fingertip inching toward his ass.

His reply came in a rush interspersed with moans and urgent thrusts of his hips. “Stop teasing me and suck my dick. Please, Lach, I need it so bad. Put your mouth all over my cock and suck m—”

I sucked his whole length down, launching straight into a hard, fast rhythm.

“Fuck yes!” His hips lifted, his cock surging into my mouth. “More of that, Lach. God, don’t stop.”

His enthusiastic shouts echoed around the room, and somewhere in the back of my mind a little voice warned Chloe might overhear. But the castle walls were thick, and he settled down as I fell into a regular tempo, one hand kneading his balls while I used the other to give him a quick pump each time my mouth ascended. Every few plunges, I sucked hard, loving the way it made him moan. Loving the salty-sweet taste of his dick in my mouth and his dark, woodsy scent in my lungs. Loving the fuck out of the way his strapping body trembled above me.

With the moon’s call heavy in the air, my inner beast stirred. Pressure built in my chest and spread outward, sliding through my limbs. Still sucking up and down Alec’s dick, I lifted my head enough to see his face. He was biting his lip again.

Like Chloe.

My beast grew restless. Want her. The thought formed in my mind. Not really words, because the beast didn’t speak. But it made its wishes known. When it wanted something badly enough, it didn’t wish at all. It just took.

Soon, I told it. Chloe was in the castle, and Alec wasn’t going to let her leave. Or, more accurately, he was prepared to use his considerable charm—figurative, not literal—to convince her to stay. He and I might want her for different reasons, but we both wanted her. So it was as good as done. Chloe Drexel would be ours. For a day. A month. For however long it took me to exorcise her from my thoughts and convince Alec she was nothing more than a passing fancy.

Not a mate. Just a pleasant diversion.

The beast pushed harder.

My skin started to burn.

Chapter Six

CHLOE

The problem with hiding in my room was it gave me a lot of time to think. And my thoughts were dominated by the things I’d seen in my dream.

I should have been thinking about my canceled wedding or my mother’s threats or what the hell I was going to do with my apartment now that Josh and I were no longer an item. Both our names were on the lease. We’d gotten a killer deal on the rent, and it was in a great location—just far enough from my mother’s place to make it impractical for her to drop in for visits.

Although, that probably wasn’t going to be a problem now.

But I couldn’t seem to concentrate on any of those things. My life was in tatters, yet my mind spun with memories of Alec and Lachlan and the dirty sex on the plane.

Except they weren’t memories at all. None of that had happened, and I needed to get a grip before I completely lost my mind.

Actually, I thought as my gaze landed on my open suitcase on the floor, I needed to go home. I’d started packing after I fled the gallery this morning and then stopped when Alec left lunch outside my door.

At least I assumed it was Alec. He was gone by the time I responded to the light tap on the wood. There was no note on the tray, just a chicken salad sandwich on homemade bread beside a steaming bowl of the most delicious broth I ever tasted in my life. There was also a thick slice of chocolate cake and a glass of ice cold water.

Of course he prepared an amazing lunch. Because he was amazing. And funny and smart and sexy.

And I had to get out of Scotland before I embarrassed myself by moaning in front of him or licking his abs. Clearly, the incident in the airport with Josh had broken my brain, unleashing some kind of mental crisis that led to erotic fantasies about my bosses.

Paging Dr. Freud for real.

---