Page 93 of Black Castle

“So, where did you go?” she asks, pressing into him, her breath brushing against his.

His cock hardens instantly. And it sounds ridiculous but it’s like something happened inside him the moment he had sex with her yesterday. Now he has become a man of little restraint around her. It’s as if his cock has put a mark on her, recognized her scent, her sultry voice. Maybe this is normal and he’s just inexperienced because he was a virgin just until yesterday. Maybe that’s how it happens. Maybe Zev experiences it too when he has sex with another blonde at their clubhouse.

Now just a glance of her, a memory of her eyes while he was buried deep inside her, the sounds she made as she unraveled beneath him yesterday, has him breaking apart.

“Somewhere.” He shrugs, his nose grazing hers.

Her brow arches. “You don’t wanna tell me?” Then a mischievous glint flashes through her pretty eyes. “It’s a woman isn’t it? I know it’s a woman. Her scent is all over you, soldier.”

His muscles lock. His grip tightening around her.

“It’s just work…stuff.”

“Oh, really?” She jumps into his arms without warning, yet he catches her effortlessly, her legs locking around his waist while a soft laugh flutters from her lips.

“Yes,” he murmurs against her lips, his forehead pressed against hers.

“Is she pretty?” she asks. “Hot?”

He exhales through his nose. “I don’t know, Vivienne.” His voice is low, rough, his lips grazing hers again.

“I wasn’t really looking at her.” He lowers into the leather couch, with her still wrapped in his arms.

He wasn’t really looking at Sasha Lachowski, the shrink. If not that he has a photographic memory, he doubts he would have remembered what she was even wearing. He was focusing more on her voice than her body.

“Why?” She kisses his jawline tenderly, her hips moving slowly as she grinds against him, the friction sending a lightning bolt to his spine, his cock hardening impossibly.

“I wasn’t interested in her.”

She pulls his lips into hers, deep and insistent, as if tasting for a lie. He lets her. He gives her everything, gripping her tighter, pressing her closer, like maybe if he holds her hard enough, she won’t slip away into the hands of another man.

“Why?” She breathes into his mouth, voice breaking on a moan as she rocks against him again, and again, her heat seeping through his clothes.

His fingers bury in her wild fiery hair, tilting her head to claim her deeper, his tongue sliding against hers, drinking her in. And somewhere at the back of his mind, he wonders again how he knew how to do this so well when he was inexperienced until yesterday—kiss her like this, make her feel this way, control the pretty sound that breaks past her fucking lips because he’s making her feel so good.

“Why weren’t you interested in her, Snow white?” she breaks away from the kiss, her lips swollen, eyes shining with lust.

“She isn’t you,” he rasps. “I’m only interested in you.”

A small sound escapes her, pleased, breathless “Clever soldier. You get a pass.” Then she resumes grinding against him, the scent of her arousal thick in the air, mixing with the heady musk of him, of them.

His restraint shatters.

He wants her. No, he needs her. He needs her to need him, not Zev. Never Zev.

If she ever has to choose, he needs her to choose him, not Zev.

His hand slides down her top, tracing up her back, savoring the way her breath hitches, wondering if this was the same way Zev made her feel. He grips the fabric of her thin top and pulls, tossing it aside.

Her breasts spill into his awaiting palms, soft, warm, perfect.

His mouth is on hers in an instant, open-mouthed kisses trailing down her collarbone, then lower, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak of her nipple before he pulls it into his mouth, sucking, biting, her moans filling the room.

“Lucan,” she gasps, arching against him.

A low growl settles in his throat as he nips harder, his cock an iron rod straining against his pants, the friction nearly unbearable.

Then her fingers claw at his chest. “Wait.”

---