“Mine,” he growled, tightening his hold, as if worried I’d disappear.
“Yours.”
“Mine.”
He kissed me, bruising and biting, stealing my breath and chipping away at my heart.
Hand on my hip, he walked me back into the house, kicking the door closed behind him. Neither one of us came up for air, wanting to drown in each other until we had nothing left to give. When the back of my legs hit the dining room table, he lifted me up, setting me onto the surface.
He ran his fingers up my leg, his frenzied and needy motions a stark contrast to the practiced ministrations from last night.
But I didn’t care.
Tonight, I’d happily give him whatever he sought.
Whatever he craved.
Whatever he needed to extinguish the heartache, even if for only a moment.
“Feel me,” I whispered, spreading my legs. “Take me.” I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling him toward me, his unshaven jawline scratching the sensitive skin of my neck. “Use me.”
He groaned, the sound a combination of riotous need and gut-wrenching anguish. Then he brought his eyes to mine, a silent question passing between us, asking if I was sure about this. I simply spread my legs wider, lifting my skirt to my waist, giving him permission to take me any way he desired.
His lips collided with mine, desperate and demanding. I succumbed to his kiss, moaning when his finger ghosted against my center. But it was a tease of a touch. I needed more.
With frantic hands, I reached for his belt, making quick work of removing it. As I was about to unbutton his shorts, he grabbed my wrists, stopping me. He tore his lips away, eyes searching mine.
In one swift move, he hooked his arm around my waist and pulled me to my feet, spinning me around. When he forced my stomach flush with the table, lust coiled within, my heart hammering a thunderous rhythm as I remained in this position, completely exposed and at his mercy.
But I liked it.
More than I thought I would.
He ran a lithe, delicate finger up my inner thigh. My anticipation grew with every drawn-out second. When he toyed with my clit, inserting a finger inside me, I closed my eyes, basking in the euphoria only this man could give me.
His body hovered over mine, teeth tugging on my earlobe, breath scalding my neck as he continued teasing me.
“Is this okay? This position?”
“Y-yes.”
“Good.” He straightened, the familiar sound of a zipper cutting through the silence. “Because I really need you like this.”
When he brought his thick erection up to me, I moaned, an urgent desperation in my voice and movement.
“Do you need me, love?”
“Yes,” I whimpered, circling against him, craving him like an addict yearning for her next hit. And that was what Lachlan was. A potent drug I was happily addicted to.
His breath was on my neck again, flaming the inferno growing inside me. “Tell me,” he growled.
“I need you, Lachlan. Need to feel you. Need your darkness. And your pain. Give it all to me.”
Releasing an animalistic growl, he thrust into me. The sudden invasion made me to scream out in surprise and relief at the same time.
“Okay?” he asked, concerned.
I took a moment to acclimate myself to his size. Then I nodded, glancing over my shoulder, gaze unwavering. “Harder.”