Lark's hand closed in a fistful of his hair. Her thighs clenched shut, thwarted in their efforts by his hips. Good God. She wanted to rock against him, to assuage that hot little ache right between her legs.
Charlie's mouth gentled, and his tongue licked the ravaged edges of her wound. None too soon. Lark's body trembled, right on the edge of a precipice.
Their gazes met.
It was as if he sensed her need.
"You stupid fool," she breathed, clutching his face in both hands. "What were you thinking, leaping in front of me like that?"
"That I couldn't bear to see you hurt," he rasped, and then there were no more words, for their mouths met, and he stole the breath from her lungs.
Lark gasped, tasting her own blood on his lips. The unfulfilled ache within her surged as the craving rose.
Everything she'd been holding at bay came crashing down. All her walls... gone. She shoved his shirt back over his shoulders, rocking forward until she straddled his hips. The hard press of his erection ground right between her thighs, and suddenly it was all she could do not to sink her teeth into his throat and bite him.
He kissed her. Hard. Frantic.
Teeth sank into her lower lip until she felt that touch stroke right between her thighs. Hands slid down her hips, learning her shape, and then he was cupping her bottom and dragging her right against him. She could feel the rough nudge of his codpiece against the slick chafe of her seam. The sensation shivered all the way through her.
Kissing Charlie. How many years had she dreamed of this in her secret heart of hearts, never daring to give him even a hint of how she felt? But dreams were smoke and mist, and this felt so damned real. She hadn't expected the rush of overwhelming sensation, from the rasp of her nipples against the tight press of her shirt and waistcoat, to the feel of his calluses snagging on her trousers. Digging her fingers into the hard flex of his biceps, she broke the kiss just enough to gasp in a desperate breath.
She needed to clear her head. Catch her breath. Stop her mind from reeling out of control. They were under a bloody bridge, damn it all, and she was wet and dripping, and Gemma and Obsidian were right above them somewhere and—
"Lark." He kissed her teasingly. A smoky lure.
Damn, he was good at this.
Fingers tugged at the buttons on her trousers. Lark drew back, taking in the darkening flare of his pupils as they asked her a question.
"Let me make amends."
Is that what we're calling it?She touched her fingers to his lips.Yes.
Hard, insistent fingers found her drawers. His fingertips stroked right over her, and suddenly she didn't care where she was. The exhilaration of the night was roaring through her veins, and the aftereffects of the fight left her tingling with a rush of blood. Lark threw her head back as Charlie stroked that slick, swollen spot between her thighs. She couldn't control any of this, least of all her own body.
Biting her lip, she tried not to gasp out loud as his clever finger wrought a new sort of torture.
He was driving her out of her mind.
And he lay there with a lazy smile on his face as if he knew it.
She couldn't just allow that.
Lark kissed her way down the corded muscles in his throat, splaying his wet shirt wide. Charlie was so deliciously formed. Everyone's eyes had been upon him tonight, and she could hardly blame them. Sleek muscle rippled over his broad-boned frame. But only she got to touch him. Only she got to lick her way down his chest. She rocked against his touch, feeling his questing fingers steal through the slit in her drawers, and then there was nothing between them.
"Kiss me," he breathed.
She captured his mouth again, thighs splaying wide, careless of where they were or what they were doing.
All she knew was that she needed to fulfill that throbbing ache within her. And then he was tracing slow, careful circles, holding her on the edge of pleasure as if to torment her. Fingers digging into his chest, she panted frantically, rubbing against him shamelessly.
"Please," she whispered.
Charlie's thumb pressed intently to that one little spot that mattered. Her body shattered. Lark saw stars. And then she was collapsing over him, gasping against his neck as the rumble of a soft laugh vibrated through his chest.
"I've been wanting to do that for a long time," he murmured, brushing a kiss against her jawline.
"You can do that to me anytime you want."