Something settles deep inside me. It spreads throughout me, making my blood hum, and my body tingle. Lachlan keeps walking until I’m pressed up against the window. The cold glass on my back and his body warming me from the front. I tilt my head back to look at him. He lifts a single brow, daring me not to touch him. That’s the last thing I see before he blows out the match.
I know this is a little game that was meant to lighten the mood, but now a sexual tension has filled the room. I know Lachlan isn’t done and I know he won’t be done until I’m practically a puddle on the floor.
His cheek brushes against mine. I hear the match drag against a coarse surface. My hands curl into fists against my thighs. My fingernails sink into my palms, creating crescent moon indents.
The match is the one thing keeping us separated. It lights up his features. His lips are sensuous and his eyes are brilliant. The stubble on his face looks almost golden.
“You’re perfect,” I say very quietly.
Lachlan tilts his head and smirks. “No, I’m not. It’s just the lighting.”
“You are,” I insist.
He brushes his hand across my throat. My pulse jumps wildly against my skin.
“You wanna know how you look right now?”
I nod.
I thought he would blow out the match, but he doesn’t. He brings the match close to my face, going over every feature slowly.
“Your eyes are bright. The fire almost makes them look violet. Your cheeks are red. And all that blonde hair looks golden”—his hand drags through my hair—“hanging around your shoulders. And your lips are wet and slightly parted.” A single finger grazes my lip. “If I move my face just an inch closer, I could suck on that bottom lip…” And right when I think he’s going to do just that, the room goes black.
His hand drops from my face. The two of us are quiet. Both of us breathing rapidly.
“This is my last match,” he says in a sexy whisper. “Do you want me to light it?”
My breath comes out shaky. “Yes.”
The match drags across the matchbox slowly. And then there’s an amber glow. Lachlan holds the flame between us. “Hold it, Naomi.”
The flame travels downward, racing toward his fingertips. He still holds it, waiting patiently for me to respond. He’d let the fire reach his fingers. He’d take the pain for me.
My hand shakes as it reaches out. Lachlan’s eyes go half-mast the minute I grip the match.
“Now take a breath and blow it out,” he says gruffly.
He’s not asking me to blow out the flame. Lachlan wants me to blow out the pain, tears and destruction from my life. And more than anything, I want to do the same thing. So I lean my face closer to the flame. I look Lachlan in the eye, and with one big gust, I blow the flame out.
The room goes dark.
The match drops to the floor.
The sound echoes around the room. I stand perfectly still, breathing rapidly. The room may be dark but the fire hasn’t died. It’s just transferred to my body. It spreads throughout my veins. It suffocates my fears. My insecurities. My sadness.
I find myself shifting closer.
And then I feel his lips touch mine. His mouth moves so slowly. My eyes close. Lachlan’s hands gently rest against my neck. His tongue glides along my lips. My lips part. His thumbs brush against my throat.
This kiss is gentle yet firm.
This kiss demands to be felt.
This kiss makes up for all the time lost that I’ll never get back.
He moves back an inch. I can’t see his face, but I can feel his eyes on me. “Let me touch you,” he says.
I’d do anything he asks of me. I tell him yes and before I’ve even finished speaking, he reaches out and hooks his index fingers through my belt loops. He doesn’t stop guiding me forward until our bodies are touching. I feel his fingers encircle my wrist. I spread my hand, palm up, waiting for his hand to lace with mine, but his lips made contact with my palm, moving to my wrist, where my pulse pounds against my skin. His fingers move up my arm and grip my elbows. He guides my hands to his neck.
I’ve grown confident underneath his touch and I kiss him. I kiss him knowing that he is the best kind of therapy I will ever have.
Lachlan guides us across the room. We move down the hallway and through a doorway. Out of the corner of my eye I see a large bed. I sit on the edge and raise my eyes to his. He reaches behind his back and grips a handful of his shirt and pulls it over his head.
It was a brisk action and yet my hands jerk at my sides, wanting to reach out and touch him. Lust simmers in my stomach. My fingers curl around the sheets as I carefully look at him. Everything I want is right in front of me.
Light comes in through the window, casting his skin in a blue hue. Highlights the tendons that travel up his arms and his powerful biceps. I can make out the contours of his stomach, and the sharp muscled V that disappears underneath his jeans. He could wrap himself around me and I would disappear from sight.
“You can do whatever you want,” he says, his voice not quite steady. “I’m all yours.”
My hand reaches out like it has a mind of its own. I touch the side of his pec before my eyes drift south. I’ve touched him like this before. But it never gets old. I always find something new and fascinating when I touch Lachlan.
I watch Lachlan suck in a breath. I move down his stomach. His skin tightens and the outline of abs appears. My blood roars through my veins as my fingers drift down to his jeans hanging low on his hips.
I feel courageous and lean forward, my teeth grazing the skin above his jeans. My fingers find the button to his jeans. His eyes are hot, watching every single thing I do. I pull his jeans down and then his boxers. I wrap my hand around his cock. It’s thrilling how when I touch him, I have all the control. He closes his eyes. His mouth opens.
He mutters a curse and his hands reach up and grip the back of my head, holding me in place.
“Naomi,” he groans. “Slow down.”
“What if I don’t want to slow down?”
I know I should savor every touch, kiss and bite. When I’m back at Fairfax I’ll have this memory to hang onto. But I’m so far past the slow down option, it’s now a distant memory. It’s been too long since I’ve had Lachlan all to myself.
Mine, mine, mine, I chant in my mind.
My hand tightens around him. He sucks in a sharp breath.
“If you don’t stop,” Lachlan pants. “This will all be over way too quickly.”
I want him inside of me. I want him to fuck me. That’s the ultimate goal. That’s the only reason I let go of him.
I lean back and take off my shirt. It drops onto the bed and I wait expectantly. But Lachlan doesn’t touch me. He is frozen, with only his eyes sweeping me from head to toe.
“What are you thinking?” I breathe.
My body is perfectly still but I have to stop myself from pulling him to me.
“I’m thinking,” he says slowly as he looms over me so I’m forced to tilt my head back to look at him. “I’d do anything with you… for you… to you.” He leans down; his eyes level with mine. “I’m thinking you have me under a spell.”
He kisses my open mouth. I breathe through my nose as he unzips my pants. We break apart only for a second. Pants come off. My underwear quickly follows. All that’s left is my bra. A small scrap of material. The look in Lachlan’s eyes shows he wants it gone. I reach my arms behind my back to unhook it. Lachlan beats me to it. He rises onto his knees. I tilt my head back to watch him. My bra comes undone in seconds. He keeps his eyes on mine as he slowly pulls the straps down my arms. The cold air touches my breasts. My nipples harden. I smile faintly as I watch Lachlan take me in. I move across the bed. Lachlan follows me. When my head touches the pillow he dips his head. Lips circle around an areola slowly before they wrap around my nipple. My back arches as my hands grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. I forgot this is how it is with Lachlan. I forgot how my body can go from cold to on fire within seconds. I forgot how he knows just how to touch me, kiss me, hold me in a way that drives me crazy.