Chapter 25 #2
There is nothing tender about this kiss. It’s raw, starving, almost punishing. His tongue pushes past my lips, claiming my mouth with deep, demanding strokes that make my knees weak. I taste frustration, hunger, and almost two weeks of tightly leashed control finally snapping.
He lifts me clean off the floor without breaking the kiss.
My legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he carries me the few steps to the bed.
The moment my back hits the mattress, Lucas follows me down, his heavy body pressing me into the sheets.
The hard length of his cock strains against his pants, grinding deliberately between my thighs.
I moan into his mouth.
He tears his lips away only to trail them down my jaw, teeth scraping over my pulse point before he sucks hard enough to leave a mark.
“You think you can tease me like that,” he growls against my throat, voice wild and dark, “and then walk away?”
His hand slides down my body possessively, fingers tracing the thin satin strap of the wine-colored bra before he hooks one finger underneath it and tugs slowly down my shoulder, exposing one breast to the cool air.
His palm immediately covers it, squeezing, thumb brushing roughly over my already hardened nipple.
I arch into his touch, a shaky breath escaping me.
Lucas pulls back just enough to look down at me. His eyes are nearly black, pupils blown wide with lust. His gaze drags over the delicate satin barely clinging to my body, the little bows at my hips, the way the fabric has already shifted from our movements.
“Fuck, Sienna…” he breathes hoarsely. “You wore this for me?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer.
He pulls the ribbon at my left hip, and the bow comes undone with a soft whisper. Then the right side. He tugs the panties down just enough to bunch them at the top of my thighs, leaving me exposed but still half dressed in the expensive lingerie.
“Leave it like this,” he orders, voice low. “I like seeing my mate in satin I’m about to ruin.”
His hand moves between my legs without warning. Two thick fingers slide through my folds, and the moment he feels how soaked I already am, a deep, filthy groan leaves him.
“Fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself. “You’re dripping for me.”
His fingers circle my clit slowly, deliberately, spreading my wetness before dipping lower to push one finger inside me. Then another. He curls them expertly, stroking that sensitive spot with every slow thrust while his thumb keeps steady pressure on my clit.
I whimper, hips rolling up to meet his hand.
Lucas watches my face the entire time, eyes hooded and intense. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Ride my fingers like a good girl.”
He keeps the pace torturously slow, building me higher and higher but never letting me tip over. Every time my breathing turns desperate and my walls start fluttering around him, he slows down or pulls back slightly, drawing a frustrated whine from my throat.
“Lucas…please…”
“Not yet.” He leans down, lips brushing my ear. “I want to hear you beg properly first.”
He adds a third finger, stretching me deliciously as he pumps them deeper, faster. His mouth closes over my neglected nipple, sucking hard while his tongue flicks the sensitive peak. The dual sensation makes my head spin.
When I’m trembling and right on the edge again, he suddenly pulls his fingers out completely.
I cry out in protest, but the sound turns into a broken moan as Lucas shoves his pajama pants down, freeing his cock. It’s thick, heavy, and flushed dark with need, the head already glistening with pre-cum.
He grips my thighs, spreading them wider, and settles between them. The blunt head of his cock slides through my slick folds, teasing my entrance, bumping deliberately against my swollen clit.
“Tell me you want your alpha to fuck you,” he demands, voice labored from restraint. “Tell me you wore this pretty little set because you needed me to ruin you.”
“I did,” I gasp, trying to lift my hips to take him. “Lucas, please…I need you inside me. Fuck me. Now.”
With a guttural sound, he thrusts forward in one long, powerful stroke, burying himself to the hilt.
The stretch is intense and perfect. I feel every thick inch of him filling me completely, the bond flaring wide open between us. Pleasure echoes back and forth until I can’t tell whose moans are whose.
Lucas goes still for several seconds, forehead pressed to mine, breathing hard.
“Fuck…You feel incredible,” he groans. “So tight. So wet. Made for me.”
Then, he starts moving.
Slowly at first—long, deep rolls of his hips that let me feel every inch as he pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in. The wet, filthy sound of him fucking me fills the room with every thrust.
Gradually, his pace turns harder, faster. He grips my hip with one hand, the other braced beside my head as he drives into me with deep, punishing strokes. Every thrust hits that perfect spot inside me, sending sparks of pleasure racing through my body.
“Look at me,” he commands.
I force my eyes open. His face is raw with lust, jaw tight, the silver in his hair catching the lamplight as sweat beads on his skin.
“Mine,” he growls, punctuating the word with a particularly hard thrust. “Say it.”
“I’m yours, Lucas…Oh, Goddess—”
He reaches between us, thumb finding my clit again, rubbing tight circles in time with his thrusts.
I come apart hard, crying out his name as my walls clamp down around him, pulsing and fluttering with the force of my orgasm. He doesn’t stop. He fucks me through it, drawing it out until I’m shaking and gasping.
Only when the aftershocks start to fade does his rhythm falter. With a few final, deep thrusts, he buries himself as deep as he can go and comes with a low, broken groan, flooding me with hot, thick pulses of his release.
The bond surges between us, pleasure crashing and multiplying until we’re both trembling, locked together, panting raggedly against each other’s skin.
Lucas collapses half on top of me, careful even now not to crush me. His face is buried in the crook of my neck, his lips brushing soft, lazy kisses against my damp skin as we both come down.
After a while, his voice comes out, hoarse and satisfied, against my throat.
“You’re going to kill me with this lingerie, Sienna.”
I smile weakly, threading my fingers through his sweat-dampened hair.
“Good,” I whisper. “Because I still have two more sets.”