Page 66 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

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.

“You should have done it,” I say, which isn’t fair of me either. Lark gasps and thrusts harder in my grip. I force the next words out, trusting him, trusting not simply the truth of his words—he can’t lie anyway—but the intensity behind them. “You could have stripped me off after the ball. Had me in your bed in just your collar.”

Lark kisses me hard. Harder than he meant to, I think, because it hurts, and for a second, I taste blood. He fucks into my hand, a growl rumbling low in his throat when he tears his mouth away.

“Do not tempt me,” he says, and his voice is lower than I’ve ever heard it. “Stealing you might spark a war.”

Fuck. He looks at me like he’d do that. Like he’d start a war just to keep me.

Our mouths collide again, hungry, desperate, and Lark comes a few seconds later. I swallow his cry, gentling the kiss until our foreheads rest together and we’re breathing the same air.

Lark smooths his hands up my sides. I let go of his cock, only to grasp his hips and pull him against me again.

“If I thought it might in any way be the best thing for you, I would keep you here,” he says.

The words don’t sting, but my heart still hurts. I’ve got no desire to stay in the Otherworld, despite everything, but if it meant staying by his side? I think I’d do it. I think he’d want me to.

“I’ll come back,” I say. “Whenever I can.”

He doesn’t answer that except to kiss me again, this time slow and sweet. The maze settles around us, all the plants letting out their own faint sighs.

It’s a few minutes before Lark stirs, getting to his feet. He rights himself first, magic flexing as he cleans his clothes and fixes his hair. When he holds out a hand for me, I take it, swaying into him as I stand. His magic slides over me as easily as it did him, and in seconds, it looks as though nothing happened at all.