Page 92 of Pride: The Rogue
“Lachlahh—”
Oh, God. How was it possible for a person to make her feel this way?
Drawing her deeper under his spell, Lachlan, alternately licked, kissed, and nibbled at her nape. “Oh, I want you, love. If you knew how much, you’d run screaming and never look back.”
Never!
Abruptly, he spun her around and propelled her against the doorjamb. Passion blazed in his eyes. “There’s no such thing as ‘making love’. There’s only fucking,’ he said bluntly, vulgarly.
His words, intended to shock, only sent her body climbing to a fever pitch.
She took in a breath.
“Yes, Lachlan.” Livian twined her fingers about his nape and went up on tiptoes until their gazes met. “I want you to f-fuck me.” Her cheeks immediately flamed hot at having spoken those words.
A feral gleam lit his stare. “I fear, darlin’, you don’t know the half of what you’re asking me to do. Like I told you, I’m no gentleman.”
As if he sought to drive home that point once and for all, Lachlan took her hand and dragged it between them. He pressed Livian’s palm over the long, steely, length, tenting his trousers.
“Do you feel that?” he jibed.
Did shefeelthat?
Her breath hitched. She’d never felt anything as hard as his shaft. Like it possessed a life force of its own, the rock-hard muscle pulsed and throbbed under her fingers.
“I’m hot for you, Livian,” he warned, “and I don’t think I can name anything I’ve ever wanted more than to lay between your legs and bury myself deep inside you until you’re screaming my name and coming.”
Lachlan’s forbidden husky avowal rent a plaintive moan from Livian.
“I want that too,” she said, thickly.
His expression darkened. “This won’t be anything but sex, Livian. For me, there’ll be no feelings involved. We aren’t something more. We’re nothing.”
We’re nothing…
“I know.”I just wish we could be…
That silent yearning would have sent him running.
“Don’t say you weren’t warned, darlin’.” The same roguish, half-grin on his lips turned his warning into a promise, more powerful than any words.
He didn’t say anything more, though. He waited in silence and patience, and Livian knew he waited for her to make the first move.
This man, she’d feared at first, and fought, who’d only been gentle, even when disarming her.
She nodded shakily. “I-I would l-like that,” she stuttered, “for you to…that is.” Bringing her shoulders back, Livian made herself speak the whole of it without stammering. “Would you, please—”
The request hadn’t even fully left her lips, and Lachlan’s mouth was on hers. Never breaking contact, Lachlan drove them into the room and shoved the heel of his boot backward.
Thwack.
That crash of the door closing came muffled. He consumed her like she was his last meal on earth, and he intended to take her with him to the grave and beyond.
“That’s a question that should never leave your sweet lips, darlin’,” he rasped, between each, hard, masterful slant of his lips over hers. “You’re a queen, Livian.”
She wasn’t, but when he said it in his low, roughened, baritone, she could believe it.
“Don’t you beg any man for anything,” he ordered. “And certainly not for sex.”
