Page 108 of To Catch A Rogue
The main salon was filled with divans and elegant chairs. Masked guests moved through the gathering, dragging their pets on gold leashes. Some of the pets were traded and led upstairs to small, velvet-cloaked alcoves where the sounds of grunts and soft cries could be heard.
Despite her supposed nonchalance, Lark couldn't stop the heat crawling up her throat.
Everywhere she looked, she saw flashes of naked flesh and painted lips. Woman draped in sheer white gowns crawled over men, their mouths wet and rouged. In a nearby alcove, a man curled his fist into a woman's red curls as he pumped into her ferociously from behind.
Lark's skin started to feel hot and tight. She'd expected danger and having to deal with her bloodlust, but she hadn't anticipated the other side of the coin; the rough, chafing press of sheer lust itself.
A man painted entirely in gold stood on a pedestal as a masked blue blood lord knelt at his feet, his wig bobbing up and down. Lark tilted her head in fascination, trying to see precisely what—
A hand swatted her backside.
"Concentrate," Charlie growled.
"Perhaps I'm expanding my repertoire," she told him smokily, and his blue eyes darkened.
Clearly she wasn't the only one trying to deal with the press of the craving.
The thought spurred her on.
She could touch him here.
It was allowed, nay, encouraged. She had her role to play, and he had his.
They slipped through the crowd, and Lark played the role of mistress, stealing touches of Charlie as the press of people forced them flush against each other. Charlie's eyes were pure black now, his lips a hard, thin line. All she could think of was that kiss in the pool and the silken scrape of his wet skin against hers.
The breath exploded from her as Charlie's hand slid beneath her coat, resting firmly on her hip. "Are you trying to torture me?" he breathed in her ear.
"I'm trying to play a role."
"You're succeeding." His lips brushed against her ear. "Am I allowed to play back?"
They'd had no time to discuss what had happened yesterday afternoon, so she could understand his reticence. "Yes."
"Good." Warm breath stirred the small curls in front of her ear. "Then you should know, it's taking everything in me not to drag you into one of these alcoves and fuck you."
That word.
It set her skin on edge.
She was no longer wholly in control of herself.
Lark pushed him back, behind one of the heavy Grecian columns that circled the room. Hands planted against his abdomen, she held him pinned to the marble. Charlie's arms splayed wide, a wicked smile curving his mouth. She wanted to kiss the beeswax from it. She wanted to suck his lower lip between her teeth and ravage the hell out of him.
"Lark. Your eyes are black."
The craving.
The hunger.
But this was the first time she'd felt it turned in this direction.
She grabbed the leash and hauled him down for a kiss.
Their mouths met, firm and possessive. Gauze slid beneath her hands, and then she was touching only skin. His chest and abdomen were smooth and hairless, and the large spread of his hands cupped her ass and ground her against him.
He tasted like beeswax and hot tea, his tongue darting lushly against hers. When Valentin had kissed her in the garden it had been expertly done, every move choreographed to delight. But Charlie kissed as if he wanted to drown himself in her.
Lark drew back and pressed her forehead to his chest, breathing hard.
