I rattled off the address. "But I can walk. It’s no big deal. I don't want to bother you."

  He lifted a brow. "First of all, I'm going with you. Second of all, it's cold. Come on, let's get you going."

  I knew that was my cue. Except when he shifted and pulled me closer so he could roll us over, I realized I didn't want to leave. I was enjoying the cocoon of his arms. I liked him. I liked the way I felt. I liked the way he held me. I liked it all. So why was I so eager to run?

  His voice held a low chuckle. "You're not getting up, Saff."

  "I don't want to,” I whispered. For once I wanted to be reckless.

  The corner of his lips tipped up then. "Then why are you going?"

  "Because I think I should be going." For some reason, it was easy to be honest with him instead of finding the half-truths that I was always telling for survival.

  “What if you just did what you wanted?"

  I licked my bottom lip. "I don't know. I have never done that."

  "I dare you to do what you want tonight, Saff. Tell me. Be honest." His voice had gone husky, pitching even lower, quieter, more intimate. "What is it you want to do? I know what I want to do, but I'm going to need you to tell me because I want to make sure I’ve got it right."

  I wanted to tell him. I wanted to be the kind of woman who could be daring and just say the words.

  His voice was low. Barely above a whisper. He angled his nose toward mine, gently brushing them together. His lips never touched mine, but his breath was a caress. “Tell me what you want. Do you want to get up and leave my arms and walk out the door? Or do you want to stay? Nothing has to happen. I can just keep holding you until morning.”

  My pussy had a lot to say about it. Bitch stay. If you leave, I will kill you. I felt the question in my bones. I did not want to leave here. "I want to stay."

  A slow smile spread over his lips. "Excellent. So you'll stay. Why don’t you text Tabatha?"

  I rolled over and grabbed my phone and fired off a text.

  When I was done, his finger lightly played with one of the slim braids that framed my face. "These are so small. It must be a bitch to put in and take out."

  I nodded. "I go somewhere and have it done. I have a particular set of skills, but it doesn’t include braiding."

  "They're beautiful. You look stunning with them."

  "Lock?"

  His voice was low as he murmured at me, "Hmm?"

  "I want you to kiss me."

  I watched as his tongue peeked out to touch his bottom lip, and his teeth scraped along, chasing his tongue.

  His hand reached up and cupped my face. “You’re fucking beautiful. I saw you in the club, and you were so open but guarded at the same time. The challenge in your eyes was like a beacon. You looked like you were trying to be happy for someone else. And it made me want to know why you were guarded, why you were sad, why you were bothering to pretend for anyone. When you met my gaze, you weren't guarded at all. I could tell you were hurting about something. There was this locked in spark. I felt like I could see you, the real you. I think that for the real you, a club is the last place on earth you wanted to be. Yes, you like to dance, but you'd rather do it at a party with friends than at a loud club full of anonymous strangers. I can see the real you who is scared to disappoint anyone. You are desperate to prove that you belong even though they should be the ones proving they are worthy of you because you are a fucking a queen and I can see it. It's simmering right there. Just under the surface. And every time there's a flare of it, you tamp it down, make it smaller, hide it."

  I tried not to shift under the scrutiny and the discomfort. Lachlan King had seen too much, and I wanted to shake him off. I tried to duck my head, but he gently slipped a finger under my chin and tilted my head up so I was meeting his gaze once again. "Don't hide from me now."

  I shook my head, blinking tears back. "You don't even know me."

  “Oh, I see you. And I’m fucking desperate to touch you.”

  I smiled up at him, feeling the odd thrill of having him see me so clearly when nobody else did. "So, are you going to kiss me or not, Mr. King?"

  The corner of his lip pulled up in a smirk again, and his gaze dipped to my lips. "It depends."

  "On what?"

  "If you think you're ready."

  "Oh, I'm ready. I can handle whatever you dish out."

  His chuckle was low and throaty, and I wanted to bask in that laugh, that cocky, knowing laugh. His grip tightened in my hair.

  As he brought his lips closer to mine and hovered just over my lips, his voice was soft. He whispered, "I'm never going to be the same." And then the jolt of electricity hit me hard as our lips brushed, sending an electrical charge through me.

  The first kiss was soft. A warning.

  The next was an exploration as he pressed firmer and his tongue chased over my lips. And then when I gave him access, I heard him moan and curse low. Then I knew exactly what he’d meant. I was in a whole heap of trouble. This wasn't any ordinary kiss. This wasn't some random thing that could be walked away from. This was something I was going to feel soul deep tomorrow. Lachlan King could kiss. Worse, Lachlan King could own my soul if I let him.

  His tongue was seeking. Exploring. When I parted my lips to let him inside, he gave me an appreciative grunt, and then delved in, fully exploring, taking his time, finding all the nooks and crannies and what made me groan. He put everything into one kiss, into one taste, into making sure that if it was the last one he was ever going to get, he was going to do it thoroughly.

  All I could do was hold on for dear life as my hands slid up into his hair, my nails scouring his scalp and me trying to angle my body closer, tighter into his.

  Somewhere between Lachlan's lips pressing over mine and his tongue staking its claim, he rolled on top of me and settled between my thighs, the motion bringing the length of his erection against me, and I gasped.

  Lock tore his lips from mine, his eyes glassy and unfocused as he groaned. "Fuck, I love the way you taste."

  I nodded. "I—" I swallowed hard. "Y-your dick is... wow."

  He choked out a laugh and dropped his forehead to mine. “Talking dirty to me already.”

  I laughed. “You’re huge.” It was the truth.

  "You are certainly good for my ego."

  I really needed a muzzle. "Something tells me, with an erection like that, you don't have an ego problem."

  His chuckle was raspy as he brought his lips back to mine. "Fuck, I want to keep you."

  The way he said it, I wanted to be kept. God, was that an option? Could I let him keep me?

  I didn't care. Right now, I didn't want this to stop.

  Lachlan was more careful now, angling his hips away from mine so he wasn't putting the full force of his weight on me. "Fuck, you're so beautiful." He dragged his lips along my jaw, onto my neck. "Your scent, it's been driving me mad all night. What is that?"

  "I wish I knew. It was my mother's."

  "I'm going to find out what that is and buy bottles of it."

  He was welcome to try. Hell, I had tried. His nose ran up the column of my neck, and then his tongue traced along, following the path. "I want to eat you whole."

  "I'm yours,” I whispered.

  The words and grunts that followed next, I couldn't remember. All I knew was that Lachlan's hands were almost as skilled as his mouth. His hands slid into my hair, gentle with my braids but still applying pressure to my scalp as he angled me, his mouth guiding back for more. I learned that he could kiss for hours. Make it his whole damn meal.

  The more impatient I grew for him to hurry the show along, the longer he took, savoring me, tasting me. When I started to move my hips, seeking the heat of his erection, he hissed in my ear. "Fucking hell, I know. I know. I feel it too. I just... I want to take my time."

  I groaned in frustration then, and he laughed. But when I slid my hands up under his shirt, he helped me to take it off.

  And then we were a scramble of limbs. I tossed the T-shirt he’d given me quickly. When he pulled at the knot holding my top in place, I frowned at it when it did not give.

  I reached for the knot and gave it a gentle tug. With a little maneuvering, it broke free easily. "I was worried there for a second.”

  And as he stripped the glittery sequins away from me, he groaned. "Jesus Christ, your tits are bloody fantastic."

  The way he stared, I felt beautiful and wanted. I don't think anyone had ever looked at me like that before.

  "Are you okay with this?"

  "Yes, I'm okay. Just don’t stop touching me."

  His answer was a groan as he dipped his head to kiss my nipple.

  I understood right away why he was asking if I was okay with all of this, because when Lachlan King wrapped his mouth around my nipple, I felt the level of his intensity. It was as if the man was trying to swallow me whole.

  His big hands molded over my breasts. And as he took one nipple in his mouth, he sucked as much of my breast as would follow slowly inside. With the other hand, he squeezed and teased the other nipple, plucking gently.

  And then my head was thrashing on the cushions of the couch. "Oh my God, Lock."

  He switched to the other nipple, this time angling his body so he was lying on top of me. I shifted down further so his face was at nipple level.

  My hands tugged on his hair, trying to pull him closer. With a soft chuckle, he moaned against my breast. When he finally released my nipple, I was panting, needing more.

  His gaze lifted to me. "Can I taste you?"

  I frowned. He was tasting me. Then his raised brow told me what he meant. Oh God, yes. I couldn’t really make a coherent thought though, so what I did was moan enthusiastically. He chuckled. His hands slid down to the top of my leather leggings, sliding down deeper under the elastic of those and my knickers.

  When his fingertip found my drenched pussy, he cursed against my skin. "Oh Jesus Christ, you're so wet already."

  "I— I didn't know I could—"

  Lachlan held perfectly still with his mouth over my nipple, and I could feel his warm breath as he inhaled jagged breaths. Slowly, he eased back from my nipple and lifted his head to meet my gaze. "You're tight. Fuuuck."

  "I'm sorry. I-I just need to relax.”

  He shook his head. "Shh, I'll help you relax. That’s my job. Don’t apologize. Everything about you feels fantastic. Bloody brilliant.”

  “Lock, I need—” I couldn’t even string words together.

  I squeezed very deliberately around his finger, and he cursed again. "Fuck, Saff. You're going to kill me. I have to taste you first. I just need—"

  "Yes. God, please, just—"

  "Okay, okay, bossy."

  I had to laugh at that. I’d never once laughed during sex. Usually I was concentrating too hard, or focused on relaxing, trying to enjoy myself. And because of that, maybe I wasn't in the moment. But this... Lachlan was... Oh God.

  With rough strokes, he shifted his weight and then started to peel down my leather leggings.

  "Your arse looks amazing in these, just so you know."

  I giggled as he tugged them past my knees, and my knickers with them. His double concentration was so strong I almost had to laugh. He was so intent on his task.

  When I was fully naked in front of him, his gaze raked over me as if he was unsure where to look first. "I'm going to eat you whole." One hand was on the open fly of his jeans, palming and adjusting himself. What I found fascinating was that he didn't fully take it out. He wasn't eager to have it touched. Instead, he left it in the confines of his pants, depriving me of the view. I groaned at that.

  He gave me a lopsided smile that I'd already come to cherish. "We'll get to that. Trust me, we'll get there. I just want to be able to focus. And if he's out, he's going to try and run the show. I want to know what you taste like before I basically lose my last brain cell."

  I had to laugh at that. I was pressing my thighs together now, trying to help alleviate the ache, because God, I was desperate for something. Anything.

  His big hands scooped my arse then, lifting me easily and scooting me up to the head of the couch. I squealed at the movement, which helped me spread my legs for him. But apparently, he wanted them wider apart because he spread them even further, his gaze on my inner thighs intent. "I want to put every part of you in my mouth, but we'll take our time later, okay?"

  I nodded urgently. "Yeah, okay."

  "You are going to be the death of me, you know that?"

  "You talk a lot."

  And then he laughed. It was low and throaty, the best sound in the world. Like drinking hot chocolate next to an open fire on a really cold night. I wanted to encapsulate that feeling forever.

  But Lock had other plans because he didn't want warm. He wanted fiery, blazing, inferno hot.

  He leaned down then, turning me so one leg was over one end of the couch and the other on the floor, and I was completely open and bare to him. Automatically, I brought my hands down to cover myself, and he caught my wrist. "No. You're stunning. I fucking mean it. Do you understand me?"

  I swallowed and nodded. I understood, but it didn't mean I wasn't self-conscious. But when he started kissing up my inner thighs, I forgot about being self-conscious and mostly was trying to will him to go higher.

  I did not have to will him to, though, because he was just as obsessed with it as I was. With each kiss, he brought himself closer to my center. And then he ran his tongue from my opening to my clit and moaned deep, as if he was eating his favorite ice cream. In slow motion he kept using the flat of his tongue, licking as if I was an ice cream or a popsicle. I threw my head back, my hands on his hair, trying to force him to hurry up. God, what was that feeling?

  It almost felt like he was laughing as he devoured his meal. But he was thorough. When his tongue started to slide into my sex deeper and deeper and he moaned as he ate, I couldn't help it; my leg started to automatically draw in around his ears and he used his hands with a firm press on my thighs to keep me open.

  He lifted his head, his eyes nearly feral, his voice barely more than a growl. "You try and close your legs again, and I'll stop my meal. Unless you don't want this anymore."

  "Oh no, I want it."

  "Good girl. Now lay back and let me eat."

  A shiver ran up my spine and I couldn't even believe this was me. And then when he introduced a finger as he was sucking on my clit, he watched me carefully. This time there was no resistance. His fingers slid right in and he closed his eyes, moaning and humming, making me shake. God, I was so close to… something. So close.

  When he started really sucking on my clit, I knew. His finger was delving inside, and I slid my hands into his hair, pulling him into me, my hips wantonly riding his face.

  With his other hand, he grabbed my arse and held me up slightly so he could have more of me. Oh my God. I was going to die just like this, naked and splayed on Lachlan's couch. Because surely the only thing that could come after something this good was death.

  The slam of the orgasm hit my spine so hard I almost choked as I cried out, "Oh my God, Lachlan."

  All he did was muffle something appreciatively against my clit. But it washed over me, over and over, the waves of pleasure hitting me as my back arched and my head fell back on the cushion. But Lachlan didn't stop. He kept lapping at me, fucking me with his fingers.

  I tried to push his head up, but he opened his eyes and his gaze locked on mine as he shook his head.

  "I don't… I don't know if I can."

  But apparently I could, because he flicked his tongue over my clit, and that sent another wave of pleasure through me.

  This time, my legs did lock around his head. My hips lifted, and I screamed. Lachlan released me then with a shit-eating grin on his face as I was panting like I’d just run a goddamn marathon.

  I didn't know what to say or do. All I could do was lay there because every muscle in my body was limp, exhausted, wrung out.

  Lock smiled down at me and pressed a solitary kiss on my clit. Gently. "That's my girl. You did so good. I'm going to give you a minute to recuperate, and then we're going in for another round."

  That forced my eyes open. "What?"

  "Oh, you didn't think we were done, did you?"

  "Wow."

  "Hopefully that's a good thing."

  He was serious too. With his jeans hanging unbuttoned and low on his hips, he bent down and picked me up easily as if I weighed nothing. He carried me through the living area then upstairs, and I could only presume it was leading to the loft. "You're taking me to your dungeon?"

  "Yes, my red room of pain."

  I must have frowned a little, because he laughed. "I'm teasing. I'm taking you to my bed. I think you'll be more comfortable."

  I nodded. "Yeah, comfortable. That's the word."

  He laughed, brushing my lips with his. "Do you have any idea how good you kiss? I don't think I'll ever get enough."

  I clenched just thinking about him with his mouth on me. Where in the world did I find him?

  Once he laid me in his bed, he did strip out of his jeans. His boxer briefs clung to his rigid erection. He palmed himself but still didn't take his boxers off. He climbed on the bed next to me. "Are you all right?"

  "Yeah. But, um, the two orgasms didn't include one for you."

  "Oh, only two? I can do better."

  I laughed at that. "Oh my God. Men like you exist? It's not even fair."

  "Yes, men like me exist. Now move over. I want to hold you."

  And that's all he did. He slid into bed, tucking me close and angling his hips away from me.

  Frustrated, I frowned and tried to sit up. "Will you let me touch you?"

  He shook his head, tried to pull me closer, and kissed my forehead. "Because you're small and you barely took my fingers, I’m going to need all my control.”

  When my hand wrapped around his stiffness, he groaned low. "Oh my God. Fuck, Saff…"

  "So big,” I moaned.

  "Oh God, your hand feels so good."

  I squeezed more. Curious now, I shifted my position so I was kneeling next to him on the bed. And then I hooked my fingers in the elastic and tugged down.

  "Fucking hell, Saff."