TWENTY-TWO

Ivy felt her breath stutter out when Lark’s lips hovered tantalisingly close to hers. Anger, arousal and an ever-increasing affection raged within her and she fisted her hands in the material of his shirt, thinking to push him away. But her anger was drowning under the seductive feel of Lark’s body against her own and she found herself gripping his shirt for purchase with her one free hand instead. Her other hand was more than occupied feeling the hefty weight of his package through his pants and she was helpless not to cup her palm over him, learning his size and shape.

More than a little impressed about what she was feeling and riding high on courage and lust, her fingers dived for Lark’s zipper. Not wasting any time, she lowered the small metal tab and reached inside, gasping when she felt nothing but hot skin. Lark went commando and he had been absolutely right – he did not feel like a kid.

A guttural groan was her only warning as Lark slammed his warm, soft lips against hers and proceeded to lay siege to her mouth. Their tongues fought for dominance for a few heartbeats before he slowed the sensual dance, his mouth coaxing hers to follow his pace. She took advantage of the change in tempo to fill both her hands with him and give him a few solid strokes. His hard, heated flesh jerked in her grasp and she smiled against his lips, loving the feeling of feminine power that swept through her.

As focused on her task as she was, she jumped and let out an excited gasp when large hands abruptly engulfed hers, pinning them high above her head against the smooth metal of the car behind her. Loving the difference in their height, she came up onto her tiptoes so she could press her chest more firmly against his. He may be the shortest guy in the Order, but he was still a good six inches taller than her five-foot-five frame and she revelled in the feeling of being surrounded by him. She knew the moment those strong arms stopped surrounding her, she was going to kick herself for this act of weakness. She knew she would regret. But for now, for right now … she was going to indulge.

She knew her earlier actions were reckless and dangerous and everything else Lark had said. It had been an act of defiance to prove to herself – and to him – that she was strong and capable and disciplined. Unfortunately, it had only served to prove the opposite. She had regretted her immature decision the moment the three chades converged on her simultaneously. Sure, she was good but taking on three chades on her own was like begging for an arse-kicking.

But Lark had swooped in, severing the chade’s hand with a precision she could only be jealous of. Then watching his fast and nimble movements to slide under the chade and pop up behind him …? Well, his hours of yoga had been more than evident. Her eyes had been spellbound by the display of masculine power and her body had been humming in appreciation and yearning ever since. Which was why, when Lark had pushed her against the car, her brain had shut down and her body had decided to take the wheel.

When a calloused hand skimmed over her bare stomach, she felt goosebumps break out over her skin and she squeezed her legs together to try to relieve the ache she felt between her thighs. Cold air helped to cool her heated skin a little as Lark exposed her flesh an inch at a time. He pushed her top up enough to reveal the practical black sports bra she was wearing but he soon had that pushed up and out of the way too. She moaned when he bit down none-too gently on one hard nipple, before quickly soothing it with a rasp of his talented tongue.

With one hand still holding her own hostage above her head, he trailed the other back down her waist as his mouth continued to play havoc with her sensitive nipples. When his hand reached the waistband of her pants, he didn’t even hesitate, opening them and delving a hand into her underwear immediately. He groaned against her breasts and his hips thrust against her when he found her wet and needy.

“Please,” Ivy wanted the word to be a demand but was fairly certain it sounded more like begging. Lark didn’t seem to mind either way because he finally stopped teasing her mound, plunging a thick digit into her hungry depths. She moaned and pushed herself harder against him, seeking deeper contact, even as she tugged against the hold on his hand. He finally relented and she hissed in triumph when her hands found his hard length once more.

After that, all bets were off. There was no more seduction. No more teasing. No more power games. It was just a race to the finish line as they touched and caressed in time with each other. Feeling pressure begin to build in her womb, she managed to gasp one word, “More”, and was rewarded with another finger stretching her wider. That was all it took to have stars exploding in front of her eyes as her body erupted into a series of small explosions that skirted that sweet edge of pleasure and pain.

She had just enough coherent thought to continue the stroking movement of her hand and recognise the faltering motions of his hips for what they were; impending release. She teased the opening on the broad head of his cock once, twice, and was rewarded by a guttural groan above her. Then they were both shuddering through their pleasure, their pulses wild, as they tried to catch their breath. The vast array of happy little lights was still dancing behind her eyelids when her brain decided to check back in. And the first thing she thought?

What the hell have I done?