Page 138 of Lost Then Found
She opens her mouth to argue. To dismiss. But the words never come. Instead, her lashes flutter, her chest rising fast beneath mine. And I know I’ve hit something deep. Something she’s been carrying for too long.
I lower myself again, press a kiss to the center of her stomach. Then another just beside it. My lips linger this time, my palm splayed across her waist.
“You don’t get to hate this,” I say against her skin. “Not when it’s one of the first things that made you his mom.”
She’s quiet. Still. But her fingers curl around my bicep, holding tight.
I drag my mouth slowly up her body, kissing the curve of her ribs, the slope of her breast, the edge of her collarbone. By the time I reach her mouth, her lips are parted, her eyes glassy, wrecked.
“You don’t get to hide from me, Lark,” I whisper. “Not this. Not any part of you, not anymore.”
Then I kiss her. Deep and slow, like I’m trying to sink into her, stay there forever.
Her hands roam—over my back, my shoulders, the back of my neck. And there’s something in the way she touches me now. Something searching. She’s not just feeling, but remembering—grounding herself to this version of us.
I settle between her thighs again, grinding into her slow, just enoughfor her to feel how fucking hard I am. How far gone. Her breath stutters, fingernails biting into my skin like she can’t help it.
My mouth finds the side of her throat, tongue dragging over her pulse. “Feel that?” I murmur against her skin. “That’s what you do to me.”
She arches under me, all instinct. No words. Doesn’t need any. Her body says everything—that it’s needy, open,mine.
I rock into her again, the pressure sharp and perfect, and she gasps my name like it slips out before she can catch it. “Boone—”
I grab her wrists, slide them up over her head, and pin them to the pillow—not rough, just enough pressure to remind her she’s not going anywhere unless I let her.
“Are you gonna be a good girl?” I ask, voice low, steady. “Or should I keep you like this for a while?”
She breathes hard, her lips parted. Her thighs clamp tighter around my waist, hips twitching like she’s not sure if she wants to tease or plead. “I don’t know. Guess we’ll find out.”
I hold her there a second longer, watching the way her pulse jumps in her neck, how her body fights the stillness, already chasing more.
“You like being under me,” I say—not a question. Just a fact. One I plan on proving again and again.
I lean in, drag my nose along her jaw, and whisper against the soft skin under her ear. “I bet I could make you beg for it.”
She shivers—hard—and I feel it everywhere.
I let her wrists go and trail my hands down the length of her body, taking my time. I peel her sweatpants down slow, then her underwear, inch by inch, until she’s bare and squirming and looking at me like she might lose it if I don’t touch her soon.
Her mouth opens. “Boone—”
“Yeah, baby?” I hook her legs over my arms, shift her where I want her.
She grips my shoulders. I kiss her stomach, then lower, letting my breath brush over the inside of her thigh.
And just before I do what we both want, I pause. Look up. “Do I need a condom?”
She blinks, like it takes her a second to come back to earth. “I have an IUD,” she whispers. “And I’m clean. So unless you want to—”
I still. My pulse is a drumbeat in my ears. “I’m clean too.”
Her hands slide to the back of my neck, pulling me down to her. “Then don’t stop.”
The sound that leaves me isn’t even close to human. It’s raw. Deep. Torn straight from the center of my chest.
I shift higher, hands tightening around her hips, dragging her flush against me as I crush my mouth to hers—messy and all-consuming—like I need to crawl inside her and stay there for good.
“Sweetheart, you have no idea what that just did to me.”
