Chapter Eighteen #2
I snap my mouth shut. Lark peers down into my face now, his dark eyes wide.
“You think I do not find you attractive?”
“No. I know you do. I just—” I let out a frustrated sound. It’s impossible to explain that things just aren’t the same, and sometimes that feeling wells up and takes me out of the moment and now we’re having this fucking conversation instead of the fun stuff we were doing before.
“Even if you were not my soulbond, I would find you attractive, Dante,” Lark says seriously before he drops another kiss to my jaw. “And I am not the only one.”
“You—What?”
He smiles against my skin. “You believe our Seelie tailor was judging you, do you not?”
“Y-yeah.” He’d stared at me for way too long, then avoided my gaze for the rest of the session. The robe I’d borrowed from Lark’s wardrobe was too tight. I’ve not seen a fae who isn’t slender, though I guess they must exist somewhere.
Lark hums. “He wanted to fuck you,” he says, and the word fuck makes my breath catch, as does Lark’s hand suddenly moving to slide up under my tunic. “He wanted to dig his fingers in and feel how soft you are. He wanted to make you squirm and beg for him.”
My throat goes dry. Lark lifts his head and smiles at the expression on my face. “Do you know how many men I have intimidated out of the café because they could not keep their eyes off you? Off what’s mine?”
The growl he lets out has me gasping, and I reach for him, pulling him down into a much messier kiss than before. Lark nips my lower lip and pushes me back into the grass again before he settles his body over mine.
“What do you want?” I say breathlessly when our mouths part.
“Everything.”
Lark kisses down my jaw, pausing for a moment to suck on my earlobe before he moves down my throat.
He scrapes his sharp teeth over the sensitive skin there and I grab at his arms, trying to get him closer again.
The hand he shoved under my tunic splays over my ribs and then digs in, just like he said.
Will he leave bruises? I whimper when Lark pushes my tunic up and teases one of my nipples. I want that. I want all of it. I want him.
I grab his hair, aware that I’m messing it up, as he moves lower. Lark’s nimble fingers make quick work of the laces on my trousers, and I don’t have time to be self-conscious before he reaches in and pulls out my cock.
“Exquisite,” Lark says. He strokes the length of my cock and my thighs tremble.
“Lark…”
“Allow me this indulgence? Please?”
I nod. Of course. Anything he wants. I’m not about to stop him now.
Lark’s smile turns wicked. I have just a second to admire it, to shiver at the sudden shock of heat that twists in my stomach, before he lowers his head to suck on the head of my cock.
“Oh, fuck—”
Lark laves his tongue over it, swirling it around in the second before he takes more of me into his mouth.
I cry out. I don’t care if the entire party can hear us.
Right now, they’re a distant memory, second to this maze and grass brushing against my skin and Lark settled between my thighs.
He doesn’t break eye contact as he takes me deeper, his mouth wet and hot, and I moan again, the sound coming out breathy and pained.
Lark rubs his thumb over my hip. He’s not gentle, not exactly—he feels too eager for that. But every movement is deliberate, designed to make me squirm and pant and beg for more.
“Lark, I—Don’t stop, please.”
He hums around my cock. Yeah, he doesn’t plan to. I get that. Will he let me blow him after? My mouth waters at the prospect. What will he look like when he comes?
Long fingers stroke over my balls and then move further back, investigating my hole.
Oh, God. I want him to fuck me, shaking all over from the sheer need of it.
Lark presses his tongue to the underneath of my shaft, sucking hard.
I whine. I’m too hot, sweat prickling my skin, and Lark’s hand on my hip becomes firmer, holding me down.
I can’t focus on anything but his mouth now. I’m going to come. Lark presses against my hole, and as he does, he takes the full length of me into his mouth, the head of my cock nudging his throat.
“Fuck!” It feels so good. I might just die here.
That would honestly be fine. He swallows, and pressure tightens on my cock, and there’s nothing I can do to stop the inevitable.
I come with a hoarse cry, and thank fuck Lark is holding my hips down because my whole body jerks, eyes rolling back as I shoot down his throat.
I collapse back onto the grass, panting, and Lark strokes his thumb over my hip again. He still has my cock in his mouth. He watches me with those impossible to read eyes.
“That was—” I can’t find the words. “You…”
He holds the base of my cock and licks along the length of it, making me shiver, before he lets go.
I shiver again when Lark kisses my hip. He makes his way back up the same way he went down, leaving presses of his lips all over my skin, and when he’s close enough, I grab the back of his neck and pull him in for another kiss.
When I shove my fingers into the hair at the base of his skull, he melts against me like he did earlier. The entire length of his body presses against mine and his hard cock presses against my stomach.
I reach down. “Can I…?”
“Yes. Yes.”
It’s harder to tell without his glamour, but desperation pinches his features.
He lifts up just enough to watch as I struggle with his trousers, finally getting them open so I can slip my hand inside.
The head of his cock peeks out, and I wrap the rest in my fist. He’s so wet.
My cock throbs. I still want to taste him, desperately, but I can’t move more than this. I don’t think he’ll let me.
Lark kisses me again when I start stroking him, a messy kiss that slides to my jaw and then further down. He digs his teeth into my shoulder, but not hard enough to leave a bruise. I think. I don’t care. The space he just bit faintly aches for a second, but I don’t care about that either.
I care about the quiet sounds he’s making, the way his hips are thrusting into my grip. His cheeks are flushed, and I wonder if his chest would have a sweep of pink on it, too, if I were to remove his tunic. Lark kisses beneath my jaw.
“I thought about collaring you,” he says, and my blood goes hot even as my head spins.
“I—” I lick my lips and flick my thumb over the head of his cock. “I’m not your pet.”
“That is not why. I want those fae to know who you belong to. Now. Always.”
Always. That’s not fair, but also, it doesn’t matter. Not when it’s true. Maybe I will regret this later, but I’ll get over that in time. Having Lark just once has to be better than a lifetime of wondering.