His mouth and hands are everywhere, empowered by her soft mewls and the urgency I sense in him. When he goes down on her, frantic fingers pushing up her skirt, his wild blond hair in disarray over her thighs, I fail to breathe.
“Shit!” she cries out, spine curving into an endless arch. She plunges her manicured hands into his hair and holds on for the ride.
This was a battle lost before he gave her the first teaspoon.
It doesn’t take much to bring her to the brink, and that’s when he pulls away with her juices glistening on his smirking lips.
“Why’d you stop?” She growls the protest.
“Say the words, love.”
“What words?”
“Beg me to fuck you.”
“Go to hell!” Gasping for air, she flops back to the mattress.
“Still want to play?” He crawls up her body, strong and muscular thighs pinning her shoulders down, and takes his hard cock in one hand. “I know you want this.” Stroking his shaft, he teases her mouth with the tip. “Imagine how good it’ll feel inside you.”
Lilith jerks her head away, and once again, our eyes meet. Hers are dilated and hazy, squinting with need, and I feel her desperation through every nerve ending in my body.
At this point, I’m silently begging her to beg.
He increases the pumps of his hand, breathing hard with each stroke. “Choose,” he groans. “I can come on your face, or you can get what you want.”
She squirms underneath him. “Get the fuck off of me!”
He jumps to his feet, chest heaving as defeat shadows his face. “Message received loud and clear, love.”
They stare at each other for several seconds, locked in a stalemate. Then Lilith launches off the bed and shoves him to the sofa in her place. She crawls over his body and mounts him in a furious downward thrust, and his mouth slackens as she rolls her hips to take his cock even deeper.
I’ve never witnessed a coupling like this—full of anger and desperation and passion. It’s the epitome of flame melting ice, dawn outshining dusk, the sun overtaking the moon. I watch in awe from my front-row seat, dripping reluctant arousal onto the cushion, and as they rut like animals, yanking hair and slapping cheeks, I’m not sure this is a battle either can win.
Chapter Ten
I awake with my hand between my legs.
The tendrils of my dream follow me in a slow descent to awareness, and I hold on to the details a little longer, replaying how kissable lips trailed over my sensitive nipples, how thick hair slipped through my fingers like silk, and how a warm, wet tongue lapped between my folds.
Mostly, I remember the brilliant gaze of a lion watching me from the shadows.
I allow myself the touch of my fingers, gliding through slick flesh and rubbing steady circles on my needy clit. The pressure rises, nearing the breaking point. With a whimpering groan, I yank my hand away and curse Liam for urging me into making a promise I now regret.
And then I curse Sebastian for invading such a private, sexually explicit dream.
Most of all, I rail at Vance for the images I’ll never get out of my head.
After using the bathroom and dressing for breakfast, I make my way into the main sitting room. The French doors to the balcony stand open, and I spot Lilith at the railing with her back to me. She’s gazing at the sea, coffee mug clutched in one hand. Her hair cascades down her back in a tangled mess from Vance’s fingers last night.
A black satin negligee falls to her ankles, stirred by the breeze. For some reason, the sight of her elicits a sympathetic tug at my heart. There’s an aura of sadness surrounding her, as if she finds the haze of early morning compatible with whatever’s going through her head. She’s an enigma, self-assured and confident one moment, and quiet and contemplative the next.
I watch her for several seconds, my presence unknown until she turns and catches me staring.
“Vance was called out on an emergency,” she says, her attention going to the spread of food awaiting us on the table. “He won’t be joining us for breakfast.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” I take a seat, unsure of what to do or say, and reach for the kettle of tea. “He’s very dedicated to his job.”
“Dedication and loyalty are two of his strengths.”
We fall into a stretch of disquiet, and I can’t stand the awkwardness, especially after the experience we shared last night.
“Do you love him?” I grab the creamer cup by its dainty handle and add a splash to my tea.
She raises a brow. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“I think it is, considering he could win the auction.”
The corner of her mouth tilts up in a sardonic smile. “Who are you really asking about? Vance or Sebastian?”