Page 136 of Lost Then Found
Every step drives him harder into me, the friction between us downright punishing, and I swear I can feel him everywhere. Hard. Pressed exactly where I need him.
My legs squeeze tighter—not to stay balanced. To feel more.
I lean in, breath fanning against his neck. “You do remember there’s a kid in the house, right?”
Boone laughs—low and dark, the sound curling between us like smoke. It rumbles through his chest, deep enough that I feel it against my ribs.
“Yeah,” he says, tightening his hold on my thighs, hitching me higher until I’m eye-level and off-kilter. “Which is exactly why I’m gonna take my time making you come with my mouth first.”
My pulse stumbles. His eyes catch mine—steady, unreadable, burning.
“That way,” he adds, pushing my bedroom door open with his boot and walking us inside like he owns the place, “when I finally fuck you, you’ll be too damn wrecked to make a sound.”
My breath catches, sharp and jagged, heat blooming between my legs so fast it leaves me dizzy.
He kicks the door shut behind us, and everything else disappears.
Chapter 14
BOONE
I don’t waste time.
The second her back hits the mattress, I’m on her—hands planted on either side of her head, mouth crashing into hers like I’ve gone too long without it. Because I have. Kissing her feels like getting hit with air after being underwater too damn long.
Lark meets me with all of it—fingers in my hair, nails dragging across my scalp like she’s trying to make me lose control. Her legs fall open and I slot between them without hesitation, right where I belong.
I kiss her like I’m starving. Like I’ve only got this one shot to get it right. It’s messy, hot, and completely unhinged. Tongues, teeth, breath. Her moans slip between us, soft and wrecked, and they ruin me—fuel on a fire I’m not even trying to put out.
I rip her sweatshirt off and toss it somewhere I don’t care about. But then I stop.
Black lace.
Barely there. Delicate. Fucking lethal.
My eyes drag over her and I swear my pulse hits the damn ceiling. “Jesus, Lark…”
My voice cracks around her name, and I don’t even try to hide it. My hands slide over her waist, slow and greedy, relearning the shape of her.Reclaiming it.
I trace the edge of her bra with the backs of my fingers, teasing just to watch her shiver. Just to see her eyes flutter and her breath hitch.
Then my mouth is on her throat—jaw, neck, that spot just under her ear where she always comes undone. She tilts her head, gives me more of her like she always does, and I sink my teeth in, sucking a mark I know she’ll find sometime tomorrow.
She makes this noise—quiet and broken—and fuck, it nearly knocks me out.
“Yeah,” I murmur against her skin, dragging my mouth lower. “I missed that sound.”
My hand grips her hip, hard. Not to control her—but to keep myself from going too fast. Because every second I’m not inside her is starting to feel like punishment.
“Missed being the one who gets to hear you fall apart.”
Her hands are under my shirt now, fingertips ghosting over my abs, my ribs, like she’s rediscovering something she used to know by heart. I suck in a breath, reach back, and rip the damn thing off.
She stares.
Her eyes roam—slow, lingering—over the scar on my side, the lines of my body, the ink stretched across my shoulder she’s never seen.
Her tongue flicks out, quick and mindless, dragging across her bottom lip—and that’s all it takes. My jaw tightens. Blood rushes low. She doesn’t even know what she’s doing to me.
