Chapter 13 I’ll Like You Better Naked #2
I’ve never been able to get this far, never had a guy’s—let alone a man’s—hand touching my bare sex. I assumed I’d be shyer, but there’s no room for that when I want this dragon in me unleashed more than I want to breathe.
Lachlan’s thumb and hand press against me, but it’s me doing the rubbing, working to achieve this climax I suddenly can’t live without.
So close. So close.
“Lachlan,” I grate in frustration.
He sucks hard on my nipple and shoves a finger inside me, pumping it in and out, filling an area I’ve never had penetrated. His thumb hits my clit with each thrust. My insides clench in warning and then I’m screaming and flying over the edge to a place I haven’t soared.
I’ve just come down from the high when Lachlan lifts my upper body and pushes a pillow under my back and head. I go like a rag doll, fluttering my eyelids but not opening them from sheer exhaustion.
Is he pampering me?
“We’re not done.” He pins my hands above my head again, and the mattress dips with his weight around my upper torso. I don’t feel him against me—until I do. He rubs something wet between my cleavage then his big warm hands squeeze my breasts together like the tightest bra ever.
He groans and the bed rocks. I force my heavy lids open and find Lachlan on his knees with his dick pinched between my big breasts as he thrusts back and forth.
“Watch me, Emery. I want your eyes on me while I fuck these beautiful tits.”
My mouth dries. This is beyond anything I could have imagined. The way his face contorts with pleasure and his abs flex when he moves has desire thrumming through me again. How?
“Put your hands on your tits and hold them together like I’m doing,” he instructs.
I have to keep my elbows out because of his knees, but I obey, dutifully. One incredible orgasm, and I’m his puppet. In this moment, anyway.
I push my boobs together, surprised by how at ease I am with touching myself and doing this, considering I’m naked and he’s fucking the two things that have embarrassed me for most of my life.
He says something in Gaelic that sounds like a praise. To my surprise, he rubs my nipples and plays with them as he thrusts between my tightly squeezed breasts—somehow without crushing me.
Desire rushes back into me like a tsunami wave. The sight of him losing control while he teases and pinches my nipples blows my mind. This is Lachlan, the rigid all-work-no-play-alpha-hole. Only in this moment, he’s an erotic pleasure god who’s all about give and take.
The fact that I can stir this reaction in him, literally bring him to his knees, does crazy things to my confidence and libido.
He licks his fingers then rolls my nipples between the dampness, watching me as I watch him. His hooded eyes and parted lips make me wish that mouth was back on my body. It’s hard to keep my eyes open with the desire coursing through me.
“Uh-uh, Emery,” Lachlan chastises softly. “Watch me come.”
He puts his hands over mine, pushing my boobs together tighter and thrusting faster. He groans and his jaw goes slack, his eyes closing for the briefest moment, then he’s oozing on my chest and neck.
I can’t believe I just witnessed him come. I can’t believe he fucked my breasts—with my help! And gave me an orgasm. A real orgasm, not that amateur-hour climax I tried to conjure with my clit. That was a salamander compared to the dragon Lachlan unleashed in me.
Lachlan runs his finger through the cum on my neck, smearing it across my breasts and sensitive nipples. “I marked you.”
“Like a werewolf.”
His brow arches in question.
“In romance novels, werewolves mark their fated mates. It’s ritualistic and makes the mating official.” I roll my eyes. Why am I explaining this to him?
He takes my hands in his and secures my wrists above my head for a third time.
My pulse jumps and my sex twitches, liking his behavior in a way it shouldn’t.
Securing my wrists in one hand, he runs his finger down my cleavage and abdomen until it reaches my embarrassingly wet core. “You’ll officially be marked when I come inside you after fucking your tight pussy so hard, you’ll feel me for days.”
As a virgin the part about fucking me hard has me clenching my thighs tighter. He would. He fucked and sucked my boobs so hard they’re sore. Not in a bad way, but they still hurt.
“That will never happen.” I glare. “I never signed anything that stated you could fuck me hard or to the point of days of pain. If I allow you to enter my body with that beast between your legs, it will be on my terms, in the way I want it done and only to create a baby, per our agreement. Being a virgin and all, I bet I’ll be easy to impregnate.
A one time thing. Then we can get back to the original agreement, where we play the part in public but otherwise keep our hands to ourselves.
After a while, no one will even care if we stop acting like we’re in love.
All married couples eventually hate each other. ”
Anger pulses from his eyes like my words are a betrayal. His mouth twitches. “Sometimes they do worse.”
“What could be worse than hating the person you have to live with forever?”
“Loving them.” He releases his hold on me and gets off the bed before I can exhale.
Grabbing his clothes from the floor, he strides to a door across the large room, his taut ass and sculpted body on display. His shoulders are back with a confidence only seen in someone who’s one hundred percent comfortable in his own skin.
It makes me jealous, but only until his response replays in my head.
Loving them. Loving a person you have to live with forever is worse than hating them.
Who the hell says that?
Mom would agree with it, but what could make Lachlan say something so despairing? Did he love someone before? Does he still? One thing is clear, something bad happened that made him think this way—something so awful he thinks loving someone is cruel.
And now I want to know what that something is.
I slam a hand on the mattress and hold in a scream, angry with myself. Lachlan doesn’t deserve my sympathy. He doesn’t deserve my body either, but I can’t deny what he did to me has my head messed up.