Chapter 14BOONE #2
I take one nipple between my lips, suck it slow and deep, tongue rolling over the peak until she gasps, her hips jerking beneath me.
My other hand slides to her other breast, thumbing over it, pinching just enough to make her moan.
Her body goes tight, her breath comes fast, and the sounds she makes? Fuck—they go straight to my cock.
“Jesus—Boone— ”
“Not Jesus,” I murmur against her skin. “Just me.”
I press my mouth to the hollow of her throat, right where her pulse pounds, and kiss her like it’s a promise. A warning.
“I want you saying my name when you fall apart,” I whisper. “I want you so far gone you forget anything else.”
She breathes it out like a prayer. My name. Soft. Shaky. Perfect.
I hum against her, moving lower, dragging my mouth down the center of her stomach, pressing my lips against the soft ridges of her skin like a silent promise. Her thighs part instinctively, hips shifting toward me, a breathless kind of desperation settling into her limbs.
“Look at you,” I murmur, pressing my palms against the insides of her thighs, spreading her wide. “All laid out for me, pretty as a goddamn sunrise.”
A whimper catches in her throat.
“Tell me what you need, Lark.”
“You.” The word is barely a breath, wrecked and pleading. “I need you.”
Her breath hitches as I drag my mouth over the delicate skin of her inner thigh, just close enough to make her shiver, just far enough to keep her desperate. I press another slow kiss there, tasting heat, the faintest hint of salt, and something that’s just her.
“You have me. But I want more than that.”
Her fingers flex in the sheets, and I feel the tension in her thighs, the way she’s barely holding herself together.
“What do you want then?”
I bite down, just enough to make her gasp, my grip tightening on her hips.
“I want you to say it.” I press another open-mouthed kiss to the crease where her thigh meets her center, inhale the way her scent deepens with need.
“Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you. Every filthy little detail.”
She whimpers, her hips shifting toward me, but I don’t give her more. Not yet.
“Tell me what you need, baby.” My grip is firm as I hold her exactly where I want her. “Use that pretty mouth of yours. I know you can. ”
A shudder wracks through her, and then— “I need you to stop fucking teasing me, Boone.”
I laugh against her skin as I flick my tongue just where she wants it, then pull back just as fast. She makes a desperate, frustrated noise, and fuck, I love that sound.
“Not sure you really mean that,” I murmur, smirking as I press an open-mouthed kiss against her inner thigh instead. “Feels like you like being teased.”
Her breath stutters. “Boone—”
“Try again.” My teeth graze her skin. “Tell me exactly what you want. Use your words, baby. Be a good girl for me.”
Her head tips back, her chest rising like she’s trying to pull oxygen into lungs that forgot how to work. Then—
“I want you to bury your face in my pussy and make me scream.” Her voice is wrecked, shaking. “I want your tongue deep inside me. I want you to suck my clit until I’m begging you to stop—”
Fuck.
There it is.
Something inside me unravels, burns hot and fast.
I drag my tongue through her folds before she can finish. She cries out, her hands flying to my hair, gripping tight, pulling me closer like she already knows I’ll give her everything she wants and more.
And fuck if I’m not about to.
The second my mouth hits her, I’m a goner.
She’s soaked—dripping and twitching, laid out and begging without saying a word. I groan against her, the sound guttural and hungry, because nothing—nothing—tastes like her.
She’s sweet and slick and fucking perfect, and I bury my face in her like there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
My tongue drags through her folds, slow and deliberate, tasting everything she gives me, then circles back up to her clit—pressing, flicking, sucking—until her thighs shake against my shoulders.
“Jesus, Boone—” she gasps. Her hips jerk up and I catch them with my hands, pinning her to the mattress with a low growl.
“Stay still,” I rasp. “I need to taste all of you.”
And I do.
I spread her wider, push her knees back with my shoulders until she’s fully open to me. Dripping for me.
Then I lick lower—drag my tongue down past her entrance, slow and filthy, tracing the slick curve where she’s wettest. Down further, until my mouth finds the sensitive spot where she’s soft and flushed, right where she connects to her ass.
She gasps so hard it sounds like a sob, one hand flying to her mouth, the other gripping the sheets in a death grip.
“Boone—oh my God—”
I flatten my tongue and lap at her there, slow and possessive, like she’s my favorite meal to feast on and I plan to take my time. She lets out this high, broken sound and arches off the bed, her body shaking. I feel every shiver, every stutter of breath, every inch of her coming undone for me.
She’s soaking my mouth. My chin. My fingers.
And I don’t give a single fuck. I could do this all day.
I move back up, mouth closing around her clit again, while two fingers slide deep inside her—curling just right, dragging against that spot that makes her choke on my name.
Her thighs clamp around my head and I groan into her, tongue flicking fast, while my fingers fuck her deep, steady, unrelenting.
“Boone, I—I’m gonna—fuck, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” I growl, sucking her clit into my mouth and holding it there while I push my fingers deeper. “Come for me, sweetheart.”
She breaks with a cry that shakes the walls—legs trembling, body convulsing, her hips grinding into my mouth like she’s chasing every last wave. I keep going—slow licks, deep strokes—until she’s wrung out and boneless.
She’s still shaking when I finally pull my mouth from her—lips wet, chin slick with her. She’s spread out and wrecked, breath catching in uneven gasps, hair wild against the pillow .
I drag my fingers out of her slow, watching the way she flinches, hips twitching like her body doesn’t know what to do without the pressure. My fingers glisten, dripping with her, and fuck if that doesn’t make my cock throb behind my jeans.
I crawl up her body, dragging my mouth along her stomach, teeth catching the curve of her ribcage before I bite down gently on the underside of her breast. She arches, her hands finding my shoulders.
I press my chest against hers, but don’t kiss her yet. Instead, I hold my hand between us—two fingers coated in her slick—and tilt her chin with my other hand until she’s looking at me.
“Open. Taste what you do to me.”
Her lips part, and I slide my fingers into her mouth. She wraps her lips around them like it’s instinct, eyes locked on mine, tongue swirling over the mess I made of her.
And fuck, I nearly lose it.
“That’s mine,” I say, watching her suck. “All of it. Every single fucking drop.”
She whimpers around my fingers, and I feel it in my spine.
When I pull them free, her tongue chases them like she’s not ready to give them up, and I swear to God, I’m going to come in my pants just from watching her.
“You gonna let me fuck you now, baby?” I ask. “Or do I need to make you come again first?”
She doesn’t answer. She just nods.
I crash my mouth to hers, all heat and hunger and zero restraint. She kisses me back just as hard—open and messy, our tongues sliding together like we’re already halfway to losing ourselves in it.
I pull back for just a second, panting against her skin, my mouth dragging down her throat as my hands fall to my belt. I’m too far gone for finesse. The buckle scrapes open, the zipper sticks, and I shove everything down in one rough motion—jeans, briefs, whatever’s in the way—until I’m free.
And fuck, the relief is instant. My cock’s hard and already leaking, the cool air hitting me like a shock I barely register. I need to be inside of her. Now.
Before I can even take a breath, her hands are on me—palms dragging over my chest and down my stomach, tracing the V of my hips like she’s savoring every inch. A faint smirk curves on her lips.
Then she puts her hand around my cock, fingers wrapping tight, stroking slow enough to make my hips jerk forward on instinct.
A sharp hiss escapes my throat. “Lark—fuck—”
She watches me like she’s got all the time in the world. Like the weight of me in her hand is something she enjoys, something she owns. Her thumb brushes over the head, collecting the pre-cum there, dragging it down with the next stroke like she knows what she’s doing to me.
And she does.
I brace myself with one hand on her thigh, the other gripping her jaw, just to stay grounded. My whole body’s wired tight, aching, desperate for her in a way that borders on brutal.
Her lips part like she wants to say something—cocky or sweet, maybe both—but she doesn’t get the chance.
Because I’m already leaning in, kissing her hard and filthy, swallowing whatever she was about to say.
She groans into my mouth, fingers still stroking me, and I realize I’ve never been touched like this—like I’m being wanted and teased and fucking owned all at once.
She pulls back just enough to whisper against my lips, “Are you gonna fuck me now, cowboy?”
I fucking love her like this.
A dark sound tears from my throat as I grip her waist and flip her over in one rough motion. She gasps, landing on her hands and knees, hair spilling over her shoulder, skin glistening with sweat.
I crowd up behind her, chest against her back, cock grinding right into the soaked heat between her thighs. She’s drenched, hot and slick, and when I drag my length through her folds, the noise that comes out of both of us is goddamn filthy.
She shudders. Pushes back. Desperate .
“Hands on the headboard,” I growl, leaving no room for debate.