The Auction Block (Agents of Interpol 1)

Page 73

Pushing out of his embrace, I place my hand on his chest and shove him, hard. He falls onto the bed, his eyes wide with lustful amusement. Climbing on top of him, I position myself over his length and take him fully, wincing at the sweet bite of pai
"Lily, you're sore, stop," he says, genuinely concerned.
I chuckle, placing my hands on his chest. He lies back as I grind my hips, back and forth, adding a small circular motion.
"For fuck sake, Lily," he hisses.
He tenses underneath me, his fingers digging into my hips. I move faster, reaching my peak, again. "Come for me, Blake," I whisper, mimicking his command from earlier.
"Lily!" He finds his release as I explode around him, throwing my head back.
I tried to take a shower after the second round with Blake, only to find him dripping with water, sparking round three. I stand in the center of his room, brushing out my wet, tangled hair. My legs are lead, everything from my belly button to my knees aches.
Blake comes out of the bathroom, a smile glued to his face. "It 1:00 AM. You ready for some food now?"
"I was ready for food two hours ago, you sidetracked me." I throw my towel over the edge of the bed.
"It's not my fault you're so delicious." He struts over to me and splays his hand around the back of my neck, pulling my lips to his.
"Enough, we need to eat."
His lips are warm and inviting, and he knows how to put them to good use.
"You sure?"
"Yes. As much as I hate to kill the mood, on the block I won't eat at all. I'd like my last meal."
Blake grabs my upper arm as I turn toward the door, spinning me to face him. He pulls me to him, forcing my arms around his neck; he encircles my waist, crushing me to his chest . . . Blake's scared. I move my hand up and down his back, my face buried between his neck and my arm.
He pulls in an uneven breath. "I don't want you to go, Lily. My stomach's in knots about it."
"I'll be fine. I'm very good at my job, Blake. I'll be back before you know it. A week tops."
"I have a bad feeling about this. I can't explain it. Please . . .”
I let go, forcing him to stand apart from me. His hands stay on my sides, lightly squeezing them. "It's not up for debate. Let's go eat."
"Let's hope your team isn't around. I don't want to hear the witty banter about your less than quiet orgasms." He puts his arm around my shoulder as we descend the stairs.
I playfully punch his side. "You shut your fucking mouth. Anyone who mentions anything will be punched in the face."
"Oh, baby, I love it when you talk dirty." He pulls me in, kissing my temple. I laugh openly at his silliness.
Glancing up, I halt mid-step. Teresa's in the kitchen, pulling dishes from the oven and stove-top, placing them on the island decorated with two place mats and three large, white candles.
"What's this, Teresa?" Blake lets go of me to step into the kitchen. I stop close behind him. Tears shine in Teresa's eyes.
"Good Morning, Mr. Mason," she says, unable to hide the strain in her voice.
"Teresa, what's wrong?"
"Miss Lily leaves tonight. She didn't eat supper. When I realized you two were awake, I come make her and you big Mexican dinner fiesta."
"Oh, Teresa, you didn't have to do that," I say, breathless at her kindness.