Fire Inside (Chaos #2)(4)

She was worried she was out of practice. She was worried it wasn’t good for him. And considering the fact that, if she was out of practice, when she got into the swing of things, she’d be off-the-charts, her worry was both cute and sweet and, like everything else about her, it did a number on him.

Yes, things were going to get complicated.

He opened his eyes, moved his head so his lips were at her ear, and murmured, “Lady, I don’t fake it. Not only because I can’t but because, even if I could, I wouldn’t.”

All her limbs convulsed around him even as her cunt did the same and, Jesus, God, it felt seriously f**king good.

Then it got better when her body started moving under him and he heard her husky, low chuckle in his ear.

He lifted his head in an effort to watch her face in laughter through the dark. Once she got back to Denver and Tyra got her hands on her, Lanie laughed a lot. He liked watching her laugh. It was always, every time he saw it, a good show.

It was better now because he could feel it. Even though he couldn’t see much, the little he saw was still pure beauty.

Totally complicated.

He liked her smell. He liked her feel. He liked the sound of her low laughter. He liked her uncertainty. He liked how hard she made him come. And he liked how hard she came for him, her pu**y tightening around his cock, her long limbs wound around his body holding on, her soft pants and moans sweet to his ear and, best of all, the look on her beautiful face when he gave it to her.

Totally f**king complicated.

He waited until she stopped laughing before he slid his hand out of her hair to her jaw and then rubbed the pad of his thumb across her lips while he asked, “How you feelin’?”

“Uh… good,” she answered, her words meant to be an obvious understatement, her lips moving against his thumb tilting up even as she spoke.

“Good enough for another go?” he asked, his thumb pressing in, pulling at her unbelievably full lower lip, and he felt her shift under him.

He knew what that shift meant even before her voice came at him, breathy, “Another go?”

He replaced his thumb with his lips. “Yeah, another go.”

“So soon?” She sounded disbelieving.

“You’re gonna have to work me up, lady, but… yeah. Soon as you’re ready, my mouth wants more of that pu**y.”

She wanted that, too. He knew it because her body trembled under his.

“Yeah, I’m, um… good for another go,” she told him, her sweet voice still breathy.

“Then don’t move.” He pressed his lips to hers before he lifted his head. “Gotta hit the can and I’ll be back.”

“I won’t move,” she whispered.

She better not. If she did, he’d find her and haul her back. He didn’t care if she beamed her ass to Mars.

Fuck.

Complicated.

He knew it and didn’t give a f**k as he slid out of her, kissed her throat, feeling her skin, smelling her scent, and rolled off her and the bed so he could make his way to the bathroom to get rid of his condom.

When he got back, she hadn’t moved, but seconds later, she did because he moved her.

He parted her legs, swung them over his shoulders and didn’t hesitate a second before he dipped his face into pure honey.

* * *

Hop exited the bathroom and saw Lanie sitting on the side of his bed, her back to him, putting on her bra.

“What the f**k you doin’?” he growled and, shit, that was it. He couldn’t deny it. Even he heard it.

He growled.

She twisted and he felt her eyes on him in the dark.

“Ty-Ty and Tack are down the hall. They won’t come up for air until the morning but it’s almost morning so I should be gone by then.”

“You’re not goin’,” he informed her, putting a knee to the bed and moving her way.

“I’m… oof,” she puffed as he hooked her at the belly, yanked her back onto the bed, and rolled on top of her. She blinked up at him through the dark and finished, “not?”

“Not done with you,” he informed her.

“You’re…” again with the breathy voice, something he felt in his gut, chest, and dick, “not?” and again with the disbelieving.

Totally disbelieving.

“I’m not,” Hop confirmed.

“Is that even,” a pause then, “possible?”

“Is what possible?” he asked.

“Three times in an, erm… night?”

Obviously, Belova wasn’t only messed up, f**ked up and stupid, he'd clearly had no stamina, which was f**king insane. A ninety-year-old man had a shot at that beauty, he’d find a way to get it up and do it repeatedly even if it killed him.

“Yeah it’s possible.”

Hop watched her head tilt on the pillow. “I… No offense, Hop, but I don’t believe you.”

Fucking excellent.

He slid his hands up her sides as he dropped his mouth to hers. “Right. Good, then, babe. I get to prove it to you.”

Close up, he watched her eyes get wide.

“Wow,” she whispered against his lips.

“Don’t say that now,” he ordered. “You can say that later, like you did after I did that thing with my fingers the second time.”