Page 139 of Lost Then Found
My hands find the clasp of her bra, flick it open without hesitation. The lace slides down her arms and then she’s bare beneath me—chest rising, breath catching, flushed and perfect.
I freeze for a second.
Fuck.
I don’t even try to swallow the sound that rips out of me. She’s all soft curves and smooth skin, and every inch of her looks like something built to ruin me.
Her hands twitch like she’s about to cover herself, but I catch her wrists before she can—pinning them above her head, pressed into the pillow. Not hard. Just enough to show her she’s mine to look at. Mine to touch.
“Don’t hide from me,” I growl, eyes dragging over her. “You’re too goddamn pretty to ever cover that up.”
She shivers beneath me, back arching, chest rising toward my mouth like she’s begging for it.
So I give it to her.
I take one nipple between my lips, suck it slow and deep, tongue rolling over the peak until she gasps, her hips jerking beneath me. My other hand slides to her other breast, thumbing over it, pinching just enough to make her moan. Her body goes tight, her breath comes fast, and the sounds she makes? Fuck—they go straight to my cock.
“Jesus—Boone—”
“Not Jesus,” I murmur against her skin. “Just me.”
I press my mouth to the hollow of her throat, right where her pulse pounds, and kiss her like it’s a promise. A warning.
“I want you saying my name when you fall apart,” I whisper. “I want you so far gone you forget anything else.”
She breathes it out like a prayer. My name. Soft. Shaky. Perfect.
I hum against her, moving lower, dragging my mouth down the center of her stomach, pressing my lips against the soft ridges of her skin like a silent promise. Her thighs part instinctively, hips shifting toward me, a breathless kind of desperation settling into her limbs.
“Look at you,” I murmur, pressing my palms against the insides of her thighs, spreading her wide. “All laid out for me, pretty as a goddamn sunrise.”
A whimper catches in her throat.
“Tell me what you need, Lark.”
“You.” The word is barely a breath, wrecked and pleading. “I need you.”
Her breath hitches as I drag my mouth over the delicate skin of her inner thigh, just close enough to make her shiver, just far enough to keep her desperate. I press another slow kiss there, tasting heat, the faintest hint of salt, and something that’s just her.
“You have me. But I want more than that.”
Her fingers flex in the sheets, and I feel the tension in her thighs, the way she’s barely holding herself together.
“What do you want then?”
I bite down, just enough to make her gasp, my grip tightening on her hips. “I want you to say it.” I press another open-mouthed kiss to the crease where her thigh meets her center, inhale the way her scent deepens with need. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you. Every filthy little detail.”
She whimpers, her hips shifting toward me, but I don’t give her more. Not yet.
“Tell me what you need, baby.” My grip is firm as I hold her exactly where I want her. “Use that pretty mouth of yours. I know you can.”
A shudder wracks through her, and then— “I need you to stop fucking teasing me, Boone.”
I laugh against her skin as I flick my tongue just where she wants it, then pull back just as fast. She makes a desperate, frustrated noise, and fuck, I love that sound.
“Not sure you really mean that,” I murmur, smirking as I press an open-mouthed kiss against her inner thigh instead. “Feels like you like being teased.”
Her breath stutters. “Boone—”
