CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN LUCY #2
Embarrassment spreads across his face. “I’ve never—” He stops, sucking in a deep breath and letting out a ragged exhale. “I’ve never slept with anyone.”
There’s no way. I’ve seen him with so many different women. Heard of him going home with plenty of them. There’s no reason why he would lie to me right now, but I’m finding this hard to believe.
“But all the women you’ve been with…”
He clenches his jaw, shaking his head. “It was all a rouse. I didn’t sleep with any of them.” His voice is barely audible. “I’m a virgin.”
Something stirs in the pit of my stomach.
This entire time, I’ve been waiting for him to make a move, thinking he didn’t want to, when in reality, he’s never done it before.
I’ve spent years thinking he was sleeping with any woman who invited him into their bed, and the entire time, it’s only been for show.
My mind takes a moment to catch up.
I take a step closer, sliding my arms around the back of his neck, pressing my body flush against his. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugs. “It wasn’t something I wanted to advertise.” His chuckle is low, his eyes hooded. “Telling everyone I was waiting for the right time,” he pauses, his fingers tightening on my waist, “with the right person, sounded pretty lame.”
My heart hammers against my rib cage, warmth spreading through my chest. “I don’t think it’s lame.” I swallow back the emotion. This entire time he’s been quietly waiting for me. “Not at all.”
There’s a shift in the air around us. His breathing changes and my heart races. His hands slide up the length of my torso, heat rolling off him in waves. He pushes the bottom hem of my shirt up, his fingers dancing across my skin.
“You fought someone for me,” I murmur, my fingers sliding through his hair, pulling his face closer to mine.
“I did,” he rasps, his lips like a feather brushing against my mouth. He presses his forehead to mine. “Couldn’t let it go.”
“You don’t have to prove anything to anybody,” I breathe.
He pulls back, his eyes burning into mine as a mix of emotions swirl in his green irises. Lust. Desire. Devotion. “Maybe I do.”
I shake my head. “Not to me.”
A low moan sounds from the base of his throat and his mouth crashes into mine.
My hands are in his hair, tangling in the soft waves as he spins us around, pushing me against the counter.
He grips my hips, pulling my body flush to his.
His cock is hard, pressing against my stomach as his tongue sweeps across mine.
“Fuck, Lucy.” He moans into my mouth, his fingertips digging into my flesh. “I need you.”
“I’m yours, Theo,” I breathe, nipping at his bottom lip, sliding my hands down to the waistband of his pants. “Take whatever you need from me.”
He pulls back, his eyes a burning flame of desire. “I don’t want to hurt you or the baby.”
A soft laugh escapes me as I push away from the counter, pushing him backwards. “I promise, you won’t.”
His eyes are on mine, his gaze shifting down to my mouth before he follows, crashing into me.
He claims me with his lips, kissing me with a tenderness that contrasts the electricity sizzling between us.
His tongue slips into my mouth, his tongue caressing mine, a stark contrast to the way the kiss started.
It’s slow and torturous as he takes his time, memorizing my lips and my tongue. I’m swept up in him, falling deeper and deeper into whatever this is with him.
“Our room,” he growls, his breath hot on my lips. “Now.”
His command has my clit throbbing, and my arousal soaks my panties. He sweeps my feet off the floor, effortlessly lifting me into the air as if I weigh nothing. I gasp, my hands immediately clutching his shoulders, clinging to him for support.
“Theo! What are you doing?” My heart races and I’m still in his arms. “I’m too heavy.”
He nips at my bottom lip. “Shush,” he murmurs, his tongue tracing my lips. “I promise you’re not.” His arms tighten around me, holding me to him. “I won’t let you fall.”
Too late.
There’s an urgency to his long strides and we make it to his bedroom in record time.
He sets me down on my feet, wasting no time as he strips my shirt away, followed by my bra.
One by one, we take off every article of clothing, discarding them across the bedroom floor until we’re both naked with nothing between us.
Theo’s gentle as he lays me down on the bed, hovering at the edge as he stares down at me. His gaze rakes over my body, leaving a trail of fire burning across my skin. “Fuck, look at you,” he rasps, his voice low as his eyes slice to mine. “You’re a goddamn dream, Lucy Taylor.”
“Your dream,” I purr, lifting onto my elbows as I try to hook him with my feet. “Come here.”
He stops, his cock pulsating between his legs. His eyes are on mine, a wave of uncertainty passing through them. It vanishes just as quickly as it appeared and he crawls onto the bed, hovering over me. “I need you to tell me what you like, Luce.”
My eyes slowly search his. “Can I tell you the truth?”
“Yeah, of course.” His voice is strained.
“I’ll like anything you do. Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I have tons of experience either.” Heat creeps up my neck. “I can count the number of times it’s happened on one hand.”
Something darker flashes in his irises. “I don’t want to think about the other men who have been inside of you before me.”
“None of them mattered,” I whisper, my hands sliding around the back of his neck. “You’re the only one who’s ever made me come.”
He stills and my heart hammers against my rib cage. “What?”