Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
A whole sheet over my body, maybe.
Even then, I get the feeling Lark would have been able to reach me through it.
“Especially business,” he murmurs, his face barely inches from mine.
My breath is unsteady in my chest. My whole body feels like it’s vibrating, eager to lean into his, to surrender to the desire that’s been coursing through me, unrelenting and trapped, for weeks.
“I thought you told me you learned not to mix business with pleasure,” I reply, my voice a barely-there breath. But he hears me anyway, the corners of his mouth edging up into a dangerous smile.
“Guess I’m a slow learner,” he says. Then he leans in, and God help me, I do the same. His lips collide with mine, searing hot, and his hand reaches up to cup my cheek, his fingers buried in my hair.
I groan into his mouth, and he grins against my lips, pulling back just far enough to rest his forehead against mine, gazing into my eyes.
“I haven’t been able to get you out of my damn head for weeks, Cassidy Marks.”
The sound of my name in his mouth thrills me. Sends sparks dancing in my veins. “Me neither,” I admit. “I should have—I wanted to, but—” I fall silent when he kisses me again. This time, I sink against him, let his free arm snake around my waist and pull me closer. At the same time, his lips part against mine, and his tongue tangles with my own, forceful, claiming.
I relinquish control. There’s a sense of relief in it, in finally letting myself fall, when I’ve been struggling to hold myself back for so long.
My hands slide up over Lark’s chest—God, I forgot how fucking muscular he is—and loop around his neck, tightening.
In response, he shifts in his seat, and in one smooth motion, drags me across the couch until I’m straddling his lap. This time he’s the one who groans, his lips vibrating against mine with the sound. As my legs sink into the soft cushions to either side of his lap, I can feel a solid press against my inner thigh.
He’s already rock fucking hard.
My belly tightens at the knowledge that I have the same effect on him as he does on me. It seems impossible to me, and yet here he is, unable to keep his hands off me. Unable to forget about me, the same way I couldn’t forget about him.
Somewhere in our entanglement, I feel something brush my shin, and glance over. Unable to help it, I laugh.
My damn eyeshadow palette. Lark was holding it. Now it’s face down on the couch, the colors smeared in a rainbow riot across the dingy gray cushions.
Lark notices where I’m looking and he laughs, too. “My fault,” he admits.
“You’re paying to clean this,” I inform him, right before I cup his face between my hands and lean in to kiss him again.
“I’ll do one better,” he replies when we break apart again. At the same time, he slides his hands up the back of my shirt, tugging it up and over my head, then tossing it aside. He pulls me against him again, his face level with my chest, and starts to kiss and lick his way around the edges of my breasts, still tightly confined in my bra. “I’ll replace the whole damn couch, I promise.”
With my head tipped back, my eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his tongue on my skin, I almost don’t hear what he said. The moment the words register, though, I jerk back upright, my eyes flashing. “I don’t need your charity.”
He’d been in the process of unhooking my bra. Now it hangs between us, my nipples bare and hardened, but he’s not touching them. He’s peering up at me, expression unreadable. “It’s not charity if I destroyed the thing. I’m merely replacing what I owe you.”
“I don’t want to be spoiled,” I reply, chin raised.
But that only makes him grin, slowly. “Don’t you?” One hand slides up to cup my breast. His thumb traces over my nipple, which was already hard in the cool air of my apartment. Now it could probably cut a diamond. “That’s a shame,” he says, bending close. He runs his tongue over my other nipple, making me gasp and arch up—which he takes advantage of, his free hand gripping my hip and pulling me down against his cock, the hard length of his shaft falling right between my legs, pressing against my swollen clit. “Because I had so many plans for how exactly I’d spoil you today, Ms. Marks…” He speaks with his mouth close to my chest, his breath heating the damp spot he left against my nipple. Then he sucks it between his lips again, gently closing his teeth around my nipple, and I gasp, my head falling back, my protests forgotten.