I grinned. “Of course not.”
“Good.” His pointer traveled lower, toying with the waistband of my panties. “Now, I think I’m ready for dessert.”
I dropped my knees, spreading my legs wider and baring more of myself to him. Lane’s gaze darkened, and a low groan rumbled from his chest. He shifted his touch to the strip of fabric at my hip, wound it around his fingers, tugged, andtorethe scrap of lace from my body.
My skin stung slightly, but it was nothing compared to the heat pooling in my core.
Still, I protested. “Hey! I liked those.”
His answering grin was downright feral. “I’ll buy you more. Now can I taste you?”
Eagerly, I nodded. I loved that about him, that he was always giving me a choice, an out, never taking what he wanted and forcing me to be okay with it.
Dropping onto his stomach, Lane wasted no time ducking his head and licking a path through my center, from entrance to clit. The hot press of his tongue had my hands fisting the sheets.
Goddamn, he was good at that.
The tip of his tongue traced a path around my clit, teasing me, before dipping lower again and pressing against my entrance. He appeared in no hurry, content to savor me like I was a decadent dessert he wanted to fully immerse himself in. Lane gave zero fucks that I was already writhing against the bed, wriggling closer in a poor attempt to get his mouth exactly where I needed it most.
“So fucking greedy,” he mused, pressing one of his big arms against my leg to hold me in place and spread me wider.
I was unprepared for the onslaught, of his tongue flicking rapidly against my clit while he inserted two fingers into me, curling them against my inner walls. Every time, he hit a spot that had my legs shaking. He was ruthless in his pursuit of my orgasm, and it built quickly, higher and higher and higher.
“More,” I gasped, needing an extra push off the cliff.
When he sealed his mouth around my clit and sucked, still fluttering his tongue against it, I went flying. The edges of my vision darkened as my back bowed. Lane held me down while I trembled, his kisses against my slit turning slower and sloppier, like he was lapping up every ounce of my climax.
As sense returned, so did my desire for him.
I feared I’d never be satiated where this man was concerned.
My nails clawed at his shoulders, trying to haul him closer.
“Need you now.”
Lane crawled up my body, his arms fully extended, holding himself off me as he stared at me. “You sure?”
“Never been more sure about anything.”
“If it’s too much, you say so. Understood?”
“Yes, daddy.”
Lane moaned—actually fuckingmoaned—and lowered himself to kiss me. There was no finesse in it, only a man staking his claim on a woman, and I greedily met him. His necklace, the chain with the bullet that had nearly killed him, coiled between my breasts, the metal cool against my heated skin.
When he pulled away, he grabbed a pillow from behind me, lifted my hips, and positioned it beneath me. Then he reached between us. His fingers dipped into my slit, collecting some of my desire, and he worked it down his shaft before gripping it at the base and prodding my entrance with the head.
“You’re really sure?”
I nodded. “I’m really sure, Lane. Fuck me.”
At last, he pressed in, and I threw my head back, a long, satisfied sigh leaving me. I could think of few things I loved more than the delicious stretch of when he first filled me, like his cock nestled deep inside me filled more than just my core. The connection was unlike anything else in the world, like we were bound not just on this physical plane, but spiritually as well.
Before he moved again, he slowly lowered himself, giving me not quite all of his weight, but enough. Panic briefly flared, but I took a deep breath and waited for it to pass, grateful when it did quickly. This wasLane, and everything was okay. He would never do anything to hurt me.
When my eyes popped open again, I found him watching me, brow creased in concern.
“Okay?”
