Page 67 of Anarchy Missing

I smile at his answer.

“But I don’t just want sex. So I hope your fears about tomorrow don’t happen.”

“You know, a little more truth would go a long way in that regard.”

“A little more truth would ruin everything,” he replies. “At least right now.”

We think about that longer than we should.

“Close your eyes,” he says, breaking the silence.

“They are closed.” I laugh.

“Don’t look. Don’t open them. Shut the world out and keep it far, far away.”

His hand is between my legs, pressing against me in all the right ways. And then his body shifts so he’s propping himself up. The next thing I feel is the flutter of his lips on my mouth. The sweep of his tongue makes me respond and it’s a long, slow kiss that says so much more than any words ever could.

He missed me. I missed him back.

He wants me. I want him back.

I reach for him, my hand brushing against the soft, smooth fabric of his suit trousers. But he takes it, squeezes it, and places it flat against the soft rug. “Don’t move. I just need a moment to get to know you again.”

The plea relaxes me. Pacifies me in a way that takes me by surprise. When his fingers sweep between my legs I feel my whole body relax. Like I’m ready for something.

He continues with his exploration. Hand down the top of my thigh, then back up on the inside. At one point, he lifts up the silky hem of my blouse, exposing my stomach and making my skin rise up in little prickles. His warm mouth ebbs me back down, and then he’s kissing and licking his way up to my breasts.

When he gets there he licks my nipples through my lacy bra. I open my eyes, just for a peek, and get caught.

“No cheating,” he says around a mouthful of breast, his blue eyes looking up at me.

I smile, but my lids are already heavy, and I give in.

He pulls my bra down, quick and rough, and they spill out, right into his waiting hands. He squeezes them hard, claims them in a possessive, almost painful way that makes me tip my head back and bite down.

His mouth is on mine in that same instant, his body maneuvering over me, his hard cock pressing down on my hips.

“You’re gonna change your mind about me, Lulu Lightly. I promise.”

“Stop talking,” I whisper, my breath heavy with anticipation. “But don’t stop anything else.”

He bites my lip in response, his hand pulls hard on the button of my pants, and then before I can take another breath, he’s there. His skin against mine. His fingers, wet with my desire.

He sits up, straddling my legs, and still I press my eyelids tightly closed. Unwilling to break his command to go in blind.

My panties are dragged down my legs with my pants and he leans down, pressing his mouth over my thigh, kissing and licking his way across my body. He lifts one leg, making it bend at the knee, and presses it up to my chest. The shiver that runs through my body when he strokes the sensitive skin behind my knee almost makes me convulse.

“Shhh,” he whispers as he unbuttons my blouse. And then he sits up and back, and I can’t help it. I can’t not look.

When I open my eyes, he’s smiling down at me as he unbuttons his white dress shirt, staying silent. The firelight flickers and dances across his body as shadows.

Words have no place in what’s happening in this room right now. Words are the last thing we need.

When he gets to the last button up near his collar, he spreads the shirt open, revealing the taut muscles of his chest and stomach and that cut line that rides down each hip and disappears into his trousers.

I want to go searching for what that line leads to. But I don’t. Looking at him—watching him watch me—is enough. For now.

He takes the shirt off and it joins my pants in a careless heap.