Chapter 22 #3
With a growl, her hands slide down my body to beneath my butt and she lifts me up off the ground.
Instinctively, I wrap my legs around her hips as she walks us back.
I’m carefully placed on the bed, and she lays partially on top of me.
My hands skim her skin, my heartbeat racing in my fingertips.
Every part of my body is alive, throbbing in a way that is foreign to me, but not unwanted.
The other times she engendered these feelings in me, they were like smoke.
Black wisps of air, curling up from under a door.
That door has been busted wide open and the fire revealed.
Her hands tug at my belt and a loud exhale bursts from my nose.
She stops moving. “Do you need a minute?”
“No, I’m fine.” I clearly don’t sound okay and Lucy conveys a look that tells me as much. “I have never done this before.”
Lucy kisses me with a gentleness we’ve lacked in the last few minutes. The affection in her embrace makes my heart flutter. “I know. It’s all right.”
She resumes unbuckling my belt, and places kisses down the column of my neck.
Together, we divest ourselves of most of our clothing and I nearly hyperventilate at the sensation of her body against mine.
My measly fantasies pale in comparison to her wetness sliding along my thigh, or the heat of her mouth on my breasts.
Never mind how utterly gorgeous she is, or the full glory of my undeserving hands roaming her skin unimpeded.
“You’ll show me how?” If I sound as stupid as I feel, Lucy doesn’t let me know. Her lips leave my chest in favor of kissing my jaw. “I’m sorry I don’t know anything.”
A palm planted on either side of my shoulders, Lucy lifts herself into a push-up position and gazes adoringly at me. “We’re in this together, my love. Always. And if you need anything, you tell me. You’ve never had a problem bossing me around before.”
“I trust you,” I reply softly, and the teasing look in her eye melts into recognition. For good measure, I reach out and trace the faint scar on her hip.
Her subsequent kiss is so firm and tender, so undeniably the Lucy I know and love, that everything else fades away and I fully surrender.
Carefully, she undresses me like the unwrapping of a precious gift.
It’s a loving ritual of which I don’t feel wholly deserving, but with every ministration of her fingers and lips, I believe it, if only for the fleeting moment of her touch.
As she reaches to help me pull off my bra, her fingers catch the raised textures of scarring. Light touches skim down the streaks of raised welts across my back. There’s a collection of them near the mangled remains of my Selene tattoo—I think Theia aimed for it.
“Taylor…Do they hurt?”
“Sometimes.”
Anger sizzles in her expression. “Who—”
“Can we not?” I beg quietly. “Can you…touch me, please?”
Visibly reluctant but respectful, she nods and peppers my lips, chin, neck with little kisses that slowly turn open-mouthed and hot.
Chills run up my spine at the sensation of her soft lips and firm tongue against my skin.
She lavishes attention on my breasts, my ribs, my stomach, my pelvis, and pecks a kiss on the small fox tattoo above my groin.
“Always wanted to know what that was,” she murmurs. “But more so where it led.”
Despite her words, she diverts to my inner thighs and kisses the trembling flesh until I’m on the precipice of begging her for relief.
However, she leaves a few bite marks on my thighs before finally settling between my legs and snaking her tongue into my folds.
My reaction is immediate, hips jerking toward her face so abruptly I could’ve broken her nose.
She chuckles and wraps her hands around my thighs to keep them pinned to the bed as she continues to stroke her tongue inside me.
Sweat beads on my forehead and I clench the bedsheets in two white-knuckle fists.
Lucy’s hands leave my thighs and one of them wiggles between my fingers to entwine our hands together.
The other more roughly grabs my hand and plants it on the back of her head.
The insinuation of control increases my desire, and I thread my fingers in her hair and apply gentle pressure in a rhythmic pattern.
When I gaze down my body at her, she is concentrated solely on my pleasure.
When I react with a gasp or a moan, she squeezes my hand and reciprocates with a groan that reverberates inside me.
My body grows warmer and warmer like a fever has gripped me, and the coil twisting and tightening in my belly is about to pop.
But when it happens, it’s less of a pop and more of a flood of relief, pleasure, and an intense wave of affection.
Lucy strokes my hand with her thumb as she laps and hums between my legs.
I relax my grip in her hair and use my combat breathing techniques to try and calm down.
Of course, that is not what Lucy has in mind as she kisses her way back up my torso and pulls one of my nipples into her mouth to give it gentle sucks.
Maybe I should be sated, but I am not, and her roaming touch and insistent mouth isn’t helping.
Which she knows, of course, as she smirks at me and leans up to steal my breath again with a kiss.
She circles one finger around my center, slicking her finger with the wetness that she created.
With a grin and a raised eyebrow, she asks for permission and I grant it without pause.
She enters me slowly and I bite my lip as hard as I can to hold back a moan.
There’s a twin feeling of burning and pleasure, and she is devastatingly deliberate with each thrust. I wrap my arms around her neck and pull her close as she picks up speed and tucks her face into my neck.
It takes a while for my body to become accustomed to the penetration, but eventually the burning subsides and the coiling sensation returns in my stomach.
“Can you take another?” Lucy asks into my ear. The exertion and arousal makes her pant, which increases my desire tenfold. I nod and she brings two fingers to push inside of me. My eyes roll back and my hips arch toward her. “Good girl.”
Her praise nearly undoes me and I moan, high and long, my stomach flipping.
Lucy pulls back only an inch or two to study me, and a grin spreads across her face.
We’ve clearly tapped into a proclivity of mine, but Lucy doesn’t remark upon it.
She pushes and curls her fingers inside me as I cling to her and dig my blunt nails into her shoulders.
My leg wraps around her back to seek more leverage and to get closer, if we can.
“Fuck.” The lone curse word bursts out of me and Lucy groans in response. I’ve lost control, again surrendering to the growing wave of climax threatening to kill me entirely. She wanted me to make demands, so I let my base instincts take over. “Harder.”
Lucy growls into my ear and I drop my head back into the pillow as she grunts in more effort. I’m so close and she must know because she increases her speed. She kisses me, hard and deep, then hovers her face above mine. “Go ahead, baby. Come. You’re so pretty when you come for me.”
And I’m gone, long gone, my body arches and I hold her even tighter to me.
My orgasm thrums through me and I succumb to it entirely, boneless and out of breath.
Lucy holds me tenderly as my heart rate decreases from its sprinting pace.
Her nose nuzzles my cheek and neck, and I’ve never been this complete.
I am a warship, finally snug in my home harbor, in calm and warm waters.
This is it, I think. If this is all my life is and ever could be, it would be enough.
But I am not satisfied. Gluttonous for her flesh and desire, I start kissing her in earnest again. She caresses my hair as we kiss, and scratches my scalp with her fingernails. “You’re okay to keep going?”
“Yes.” My thigh wedges between her legs and I press into her and revel in the gasp of shock and arousal that she breathes against my mouth. “Tell me what you want. I’m new to this, but you’ll find I am very good at taking direction.”
“Oh?” Lucy rolls flat onto her back and crooks a finger at me. “Then get on top of me, Lieutenant General. That’s an order.”
Lucy’s energy is rapidly depleting. Beneath me, her hips move lethargically against the rhythm of my hand.
Her instructions and praise have devolved into pitiful whimpers, then her body shakes hard in release.
I slow down and draw her pleasure out for as long as she can stand it before removing myself from inside her.
“Jesus Christ,” she says as I roll off her, our bodies slick with sweat. “You win.”
I wipe my hand on my thigh and turn to my side, raising an eyebrow. “Was this a competition?”
“Not technically. I’d forgotten about your stupidly excessive stamina.” She lazily traces her fingers on my skin. “I should’ve known you would be a giver.”
“A giver? Is that bad?”
Lucy laughs heartily and props her head up on her hand. “No, my love, it is not. You’re perfect. Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
I’m not sure how to describe how I feel. Like a car cruising along a highway at top speeds. Sore, but satiated. Sticky, but exhilarated. Loved. And—because it’s me and I couldn’t possibly be normal—awkward.
Growing up in the Order, I developed a variety of niche skills.
I don’t imagine I’ll ever need to wield a sword, but I can.
Fighting, stealing, subterfuge, bomb setting or defusing, and if you dropped me in a desert, I could survive and get to civilization.
Theia taught me math and languages, science and physics, history, art, and music.
Considering I lived in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, my education rivaled that of those more fortunate. I know how to do many things.
But when Lucy turns and cuddles me from behind, I don’t know where to put my hands.