I can see him starting to lose control, dipping over the edge, and I give myself a hand so I can match him. His eyes burn into mine, and then he’s in deep, so deep that he’s shaking and muttering my name in low, guttural tones before letting loose a string of filthy swears.

It sets me off for the third time tonight, and once again I’m floating, flying, but this time I’m with him, and we’re riding it together, our bodies joined inside and out. For this moment, we are one, moving as one, feeling as one.

My heart is huge and filled with bliss.

I’m sated.

I’m happy.

I am so fucking over my head.

Lachlan collapses against me, his hard body sweaty and sliding against mine, and I do something I never do after sex. I wrap my arms around him and hold him close to me, trying to keep him inside me for as long as possible, not wanting the warmth, the connection, to be broken.

And he stays in me for as long as he can, his breath steadying in my ear, his lips brushing my neck briefly, before he rolls over and pulls out. He seems to barely have enough strength to tie the end together before he gets to his feet and pulls me up.

“Bed. Now,” he says, completely caveman.

I dutifully follow, my legs shaking beneath me as we walk into my bedroom. We both collapse naked onto the bed, and he pulls me toward him, not quite spooning but not letting go either. I tell myself that I’ll eventually have to move, that I can’t fall asleep when someone’s touching me.

But the world goes dark. My dreams beckon warmly. And I fall asleep in his arms.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Lachlan

I feel soft fingers at my cheek. I open my eyes, blinking into the dark until I see the shadow of a girl at my side, hazy light coming in from an open window.

Kayla. I swallow, feeling panicked.

“Are you okay?” she whispers.

“Yeah…” I shake my head trying to get my bearings. “Yeah. Why? What…what time is it?”

“Almost morning,” she says softly, her fingers trailing down to my jaw. “You were having a bad dream.”

Fucking hell. How much of it did she hear?

“I don’t, uh, I can’t remember,” I tell her, trying to but only recalling feeling despair.

“Probably a good thing,” she says.

“What was I saying?” I ask hesitantly.

“You were calling out…” she trails off, hands drifting over my chest. “For Lionel.”

I breathe out in relief. “Lionel is my dog,” I tell her.

She cocks her head at me. “You have another dog?”

“At home, yeah.” Though there’s no point in telling her that I most likely wasn’t calling out for my dog in my dream. I was dreaming of being a child again, the day my mum gave me away. But lying here in this beautiful woman’s bed is no place to bring up tragedies.

“You must be excited to go back home to him,” she says, and though she’s hiding it, I can hear the trace of disappointment in her voice. Everything is always more clear in the dark.

I reach for her face, pulling her closer to me. “What I am is determined to make these last few days count,” I tell her as I kiss her softly at the edge of her mouth. “I’m far from done with you.”

If anything, Kayla has unlocked a part of me I rarely, if ever, tap into. It’s been months since I last slept with anyone, and back then it was some bird I picked up at the bar. I was drunk and in a bad place—the two are mutual with each other—and feeling sorry for myself. I shagged the chick in the bathroom, and that was that. Before that, I can’t remember. Once I’d decided to quit the meaningless one-night stands, sex was put on the back burner.

Now, I am burning, raging like an inferno, and long overdue. When I showed up at her door, I wasn’t sure how she was going to take things, but I knew it was time to stop pretending that she hadn’t gotten to me, that I didn’t want to have her in whatever way I could.

And, bloody hell, she was ready for whatever I gave her. The words that came out of her mouth did my head in, turned me upside down, as if I wasn’t already letting the lust run away with me.

I want more. I want her every day, all the time, until I leave.

“I’m not done with you either,” she says throatily, and the tone makes my cock stiffen, hot and thick and straining against the sheets. Her lips open against mine, and I slide my tongue in, tasting her sweet, wicked little mouth.

I need to fuck her, messy, hot, and wild. I want her body, her touch, her light to replace all the darkness that creeps into my dreams.

“Oh, you gorgeous thing,” I murmur, running the pad of my thumb over her peaked nipple as she arches back, her body begging for more. “I’ll go mad if I can’t get inside you.”

She looks up at me, and in the dim light, I see her coy smile. “I like driving men mad.”

“I know you do, love. But have some pity on me. It’s been a while.”

She jerks her head in surprise. “Really?”

“Really. So have some compassion and spread your fucking legs.”

“Oh no,” she says, putting her hand on my chest and pushing me back. “You lie back. You spread your fucking legs.”

I cock a brow. “What?”

“Believe me,” she says saucily, pushing me flat on my back. “You want this.”

She straddles me, and I wish she was facing the window so I can see those fantastic tits more clearly. “Do you have a condom?” I ask, my voice croaking with need.

“Yes, for later,” she says and keeps moving back until she’s at my knees. “You won’t want one now.” She rakes her nails over the hard planes of my stomach, my abs tensing from the abrasion, before she settles in between my legs.

My cock juts straight up, nearly obscuring her from my view. I prop one arm beneath my head, my other hand sinking into her hair, wrapping the silky strands around my fingers.

She takes my length in her hand, and my blood pulses against her palm. The feeling is nearly too much to bear. Her mouth opens, those lush lips sliding over the tip, pushing me into a flurry of lust that sends my eyes back into my skull. Fuck she’s good, sliding her tongue over the veins, over every hardened ridge, like she can’t get enough, like I’m a fucking ice cream cone on a hot day.

“Fuck,” I mutter, eyes pinched shut, pulling on her hair. “Don’t fucking stop.”

She pulls her mouth off, a wet sucking sound, and I think for a terrible moment that she is stopping, and every part of me tenses in frustration. Then her hand comes down over my cock, sliding like silk, pulling back to the base until I think my head might explode. I jerk my hips up, craving release.

But she has more planned. She lowers her head and slowly, gently takes my balls into her mouth, while stroking me off with her hand.

Jesus. Thank you. Thank you. Rare is the woman who will suck on your balls like candy. I wonder if I can smuggle Kayla back in my carry-on. She’s small enough.

I don’t want to come though. I lift my head, trying to speak. My throat is so dry, my thoughts scrambled. Everything is being redirected to primal instinct, the drive to come and come as hard as I can, and it doesn’t help that I have this shadowy view of her head between my legs, tongue and lips sucking my thin skin until I don’t know my own name.

“I want to be inside you,” I manage to say, my tongue feeling heavy.

She shakes her head, the vibrations driving me mad. I grip her hair tighter. I want her to stop and I don’t at the same time, but she’s the one in control.

“Kayla,” I say, before I moan as another wave of pleasure robs me of speech.

She just pumps her fist harder, and I know I’m a goner.

It sneaks up on me, like someone tackling you from behind. I’m thrown into metaphysical space, my balls emptying, shooting my load somewhere, who knows. It doesn’t matter because I’ve gone off like a detonation, light bursting behind my eyes, and the groans out of my throat are loud, hoarse, and deafening.