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A cute gasp fills the air. I find it adorable that that’s what scandalizes her.
Another flash of flesh draws my eyes lower, and like a man starved, I dive in.
My nose brushes her soft feminine flesh, and my tongue reaches out, searching for her moist lips. So caught up in getting another taste of her, I don’t see her hands move until it’s too late.
They feel heavy like bricks settling onto my shoulders. She doesn’t have to push me away because I practically dive back onto the bed.
Eyes wide, gasping for breath, I crawl backward into the middle of the bed, needing distance between us.
“I’m sorry,” she croaks, her hands raised like I’m a wild animal. If only she knew . . . last night was just the tip of the iceberg.
I can’t speak. Instead, I just nod toward the clothes.
Out of guilt or maybe it’s fear, Lara loses her robe quickly.
Taking a deep breath, I inhale her body. Red marks litter her pale, creamy skin, acts of last night branded on her skin for a few more hours.
The sight makes my balls ache with the need to fill her and brand my girl in another way. My eyes zero in on her smooth flat stomach. Other than Lara herself and peace for my brother, I’ve never wanted anything more.
Smoothing the dress down over her breasts, Lara glares, probably over the fact that a bra was not supplied.
One less item to take off.
My thought must be written all over my face because Lara scowls. “Really?” she asks, holding up the thick pantyhose.
“It’s cold out,” I explain.
She rolls her eyes. “So give me panties.” After a brief pause, she adds, “Or pants.”
I laugh, my smile wide and genuine. All traces of panic gone.This girl.
“Quicker to get inside you.”
“Yeah, for you and everyone else.” Her words are low, mumbled but not quiet enough.
“Repeat that,” I dare her.
That kissable mouth of hers drops open. I climb off the bed, intending to use it. My hands pull at my belt when a solid knock on her bedroom door interrupts us before her lesson can start.
“Put the panty hose on,” I order, heading to the door. One deep breath, then another, fails to calm my blood.
I’m not mad. Lara’s just pushing boundaries,fighting in any way she can. But I need her to learn that there is no fighting this.
I would know, I tried. But the bond we have, the connection, is just too strong.
She’s mine, and I’m hers.
Nothing and no one can change that.
Adjusting the front of my jeans, I wait by the door, my hand flat on the surface just in case, while Lara finishes dressing.
Satisfied she’s covered, I gesture to her brush with my chin. “Braid it for me?” It’s a question, not a demand.
The clothes are a way for her to follow an order, the hair . . . I just want something to wind around my wrist when I take her tonight.
She thinks her little kitty hurts now; I’m nowhere near done with her. I don’t think I ever will be.
That woman owns me.
