Page 51
Story: Crown of Smoke
But for the first time since I met her, my usual tactics aren't working. I've underestimated her determination to uncover the truth. And now I'm watching my carefully constructed façade start to crack under her scrutiny.
Before Lucy can retreat further, I cage her against the table. "You want answers?" My voice comes out rough, desperate. "Fine. But first…"
I crush my mouth to hers, swallowing her startled gasp. I pour everything into the kiss, my fear of discovery, my growing feelings for her, the burning need to keep her safe from the Keans and the truth.
Her lips part on a soft moan, and I take full advantage, deepening the kiss until we're both breathless. My hands slide down her sides to grip her hips, pulling her flush against me. The heat of her body through thin layers of clothing makes my head spin.
"Flynn," she pants when I break away to trail kisses down her neck. "This doesn't… oh… this doesn't answer my questions."
"No more questions." I nip at her pulse point, feeling it race under my tongue. "Just feel."
I slide one hand under her shirt, tracing the soft skin of her stomach. She arches into my touch with a whimper that shoots straight to my groin. I lift her on the table. The papers about my family's massacre scatter to the floor.
It's selfish and wrong to distract her this way. But with her body melting against mine and her fingers tangling in my hair, I can't bring myself to stop. Not when this temporary escape feels so damn good for both of us.
I brush my lips along Lucy's jaw, shifting into a lighter mood to ease the tension. "You know, I had plans when I came here tonight."
"Plans?" Her breath hitches as I grind my dick against her heat.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the strip of condoms. "I came prepared this time."
A blush spreads across her cheeks. It’s so fucking beautiful.
"Pretty confident, weren't you?"
"Just hopeful." I press closer. "Can't blame a guy for being optimistic."
She laughs, the sound turning into a soft gasp as I find that sensitive spot behind her ear. Her fingers curl into my shirt, pulling me closer.
"What happened to discussing the case?" she murmurs, but her actions contradict her words as she tilts her head to give me better access to her delectable neck.
"Later." I capture her lips again, and she responds instantly, matching my intensity. The chemistry between us crackles, making it impossible to think about anything else.
Her hands slide under my shirt, tracing the muscles of my back. Every touch sets my skin on fire.
"Lucy," I breathe against her lips. I push her shirt up, revealing smooth skin that I need to taste. She shivers as I kiss my way across her stomach. My dick feels like it’s burning a hole through my jeans, but I'm not ready to move this to the bedroom yet. Right here, right now, I need her.
I get her jeans and panties off, then put her back on the table, pushing her legs open so I can get a view of her sweet pussy. It glistens, and I lick my lips, eager to taste her. I lower to my knees and lap my tongue through her folds.
“Oh!” Her fingers clutch my head as I eat out her delicious pussy. It isn’t long before she cries out and her essence coats my tongue.
I rise, kissing her hard. Her hands fumble with my belt. When her fingers brush against me through my boxers, I almost lose it. Everything else falls away. The investigation, my secrets, the weight of revenge. There's only Lucy, warm and willing.
The table creaks ominously as I press closer, but I couldn't stop now if the damn thing collapsed beneath us. I remember the condoms, sheathing my dick. When I sink into her, she cries out, her whole body shuddering. I want be here, with her wrapped around me, forever.
19
LUCY
Iam putty in Flynn’s hands. I can’t seem to keep us on track. And when he touches me like this, I don’t want to stay on track. Flynn is inside me and it feels oh, so good. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer, in deeper.
He lets out a feral growl and leans me back on the table. I’m vaguely aware that I’m having sex on my research. But again, I can’t seem to care enough to do something about it.
He leans over the table, one hand by my head, the other gripping my hip. He gives himself full rein, his body pistoning in and out of me, each plunge inside me stealing my breath.
“So fucking good,” he grunts out. “Do you feel it? Do you feel me?”
“Yes.” I feel so much. Not just physically, but deep inside. It’s crazy. It’s scary. And I’m helpless against it.
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