Chapter 36 #2
He looked down at me, his hooded eyes a mix of hunger and adoration and disbelief, like he’d pictured this before and wanted to pause for a second to take it in.
And then he stepped out of his shorts and crouched to his knees, pulling my athletic skirt off and adding it to the trail of strewn clothing on his floor.
He stood again, looking like an underwear model in his black boxer briefs.
Well, apart from the sizable erection pressing through the material, the sight of which sent a flutter of electricity right to my core.
“Scooch back, against the pillows.”
I did as he said, moving until my light brown hair was spread across his gray pillows.
He climbed on top of me slowly, eyes as dark as night, drinking in my body greedily.
I never once thought about how I looked when we were intimate, as comfortable with him in this context as I was talking to him at his kitchen table.
My mind only focused on the sensations in my body, how badly I wanted to make him feel good too, and my urgency to feel closer to this man I’d fallen for, in every possible way.
In the moment.
I smirked. He caught me. “What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I’m thinking it’s fun having more space than the couch.”
“Mmmm.” He kissed my neck, dragging his tongue over the sensitive skin, lining his body up with mine. I grinded myself against his erection needily.
I reached down between us. I wanted to feel how hard he was for me right now. He did the same, slipping his fingers in between the apex of my thighs, pushing the lace thong I was wearing to the side.
“I’m so wet for you,” I whispered.
The groan that left him then came from somewhere deeper. Instinctual, not based on thought. I wrapped my own fingers around the smooth skin of his shaft, which was hard as marble. His hip bucked at the contact. I loved seeing him like this—uninhibited.
“Val,” he breathed. “Do you— Can we—”
“Yes.” My actions matched my words as I pushed the black cotton of his boxers down over his muscled thighs.
He dipped to his side, pushing them off before pulling my thong over my legs, too.
He removed a condom from the drawer in the nightstand and knelt between my legs, dark eyes watching me.
I adjusted myself, lifting my hips, opening my legs further.
He circled his thumb over my clit, then slid two fingers inside of me.
With his other hand, he gave himself a tug.
Oh god, I’ll never get this image out of my head.
When he removed his fingers and ripped open the condom package, needing both hands to slide it on, my core was on fire from the absence of him, so much so that when he finally lined himself up and I felt his head right where I needed it, I begged, “Now, please.”
He pushed into me, filling me, letting his weight fall on top of my body.
I kissed him with everything I had as he rocked his hips in between my legs, as my body stretched and relaxed to accommodate him, letting him in deeper.
Our tongues swirled, our breaths tangled, our bodies rolled in a newfound rhythm.
I clenched around him, lifting my hips to meet each of his thrusts.
I relished the closeness—our sweat-slicked skin touching, lips pressed together, tongues devouring, him inside of me.
As close as we could possibly be physically, somehow not close enough.
Maybe if we do this another thousand times…
“I’m close, baby,” he rasped in my ear. “Can I go faster?”
“Yes,” I nearly cried. “Oh my god, yes.”
“How can I make you come too, with me?”
I was close, too, riding that edge for a little while now, especially when his pelvic bone provided some friction near my clit.
His huge body caged me with both arms pressing his chest up. I licked a path from his chest to his neck and met the dark, lust-filled pools of his eyes again. “If you touch me, but only just before.”
He nodded and his mouth crashed back into mine, tongue delving deep.
He pulled almost all the way out of me before slamming back in with more force than before.
A cry of pleasure left my throat, captured by his mouth.
He did it again and then kept rocking into me almost twice as fast as he had before, taking what he needed to come, and boy did I want to give it to him.
One, two, three, four thrusts later he reached down, pressing his hand between our joined bodies until his middle finger found my clit.
I exploded almost immediately, crying his name.
One last slam inside me as I clenched and writhed around him, and he let go, too.
He came with a guttural groan before dropping the rest of his weight on top of me, head turned to the side, panting.
I clung to him as we both came down, pressing my hands into his bare back, massaging his taut muscles.
“Oh my god,” he said finally.
“I know.”
He rolled onto his side, pulling out of me, a sated sigh leaving his lips.
When I turned to look at him, his eyes were on me.
Not my body, but my face. He reached out and twirled a piece of my hair in his hand before gently pushing it behind my ear.
It was so tender, a lump formed in my throat.
I ran my fingers up and down his arm, pausing on the tattoo on his shoulder.
Three rows of numbers, with slashes in between. Dates.
“Can I ask what they are?”
He nodded, eyes locked on mine.
“April 10, 1987?”
“Monica’s birthday.”
“September 15, 1990?”
“My birthday.”
I knew the next one. “And Luna’s,” I whispered. “I love it.” I pushed myself up and kissed his shoulder, right over the ink, before lying back down and returning my gaze to those chocolate eyes.
“Mom and Monica had a thing about birthdays. Always made a big deal about them. So, I don’t know, this is symbolic of my commitment to keep up that tradition.”
“You celebrate your sister’s, too?”
“Yeah, I take Luna on a fancy dad-daughter date. Francesca’s idea. We don’t talk about why, but I want to when she’s older.”
“I think that’s a great tradition.” I smiled, and he brushed his thumb over my raised cheek.
We lay there, exchanging gentle caresses, heads resting on his pillows, facing each other on our sides, until our breaths were soft and easy.
He opened his mouth to say something but closed it a breath later.
“Tell me,” I whispered.
“I’m falling in love with you.”
My heart trilled. “I love you, too.” No hesitation, no doubt in my mind.
His brown eyes lit up. “Yeah?” He inched closer to me, touching our noses together.
“Yeah,” I affirmed before his lips found mine. It was soft and exploratory, full of care. Cherishing.
A kiss that said I love you.
I never wanted to be kissed by anyone else.
Luke and I spent the next two days tangled in his sheets from the moment he got home from work until we drifted off after midnight. Talking, touching, experimenting. Only short trips to the kitchen for food and water.
As I expected, he didn’t need any more instructions on what did it for me—he was already a pro.
And he knew it.
On Wednesday, we decided we should leave the house, at least for a few hours. We drove to the beach when he got home from work.
We settled on top of the still warm sand, sitting on a blanket, me between his legs, using his knees as armrests while we watched the waves.
“I want to ask you something but I’m nervous it’s too soon,” I said. Ever since my conversation with Mimi I’d been wondering if Luke wanted more kids, or if Luna was it for him. I looked at him over my shoulder, my green eyes wide with trepidation.
“Please tell me.”
I chewed my lip, pulse thrumming.
“Valerie, I love you, you can tell me,” he urged.
I love you. He said it so freely and easily now that we’d admitted our feelings.
Every day, multiple times a day. My heart swelled.
We’d only been together, romantically, for under two weeks, but with all the time we’d spent together both before the fundraiser and this week, it felt like much longer than that.
My mind told me it was too soon to bring something like this up, but my heart disagreed, so I took a breath and asked, “Do you want to have more kids? More than Luna, I mean?”
He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed before spinning me to face him. I sat cross-legged in front of him, his eyes locked on mine from under the brim of his ball cap.
“Do you?” He scanned my face, trying to read me.
“But I asked you first.”
“Fair enough.” He ran his hand over his face, and a tinge of anxiety hummed under my skin. “Yes. I always thought I’d want a family with multiple kids someday. And then Luna being born, and then me becoming her guardian, confirmed it.”
I squeezed his forearm.
“I wouldn’t do it alone, though…” he added, leading me.
“I want them, too,” I was quick to confirm. “I think Luna would be a great big sister.”
An uninhibited smile broke across his handsome face, white teeth on full display in the early evening light.
I beamed back at him, and relief that bordered on elation filled my heart.
“So, how soon we talking? Should we ditch the condom tonight?” He raised his thick, dark brows.
“Luke!” I shoved him playfully.
“What?” he asked, brown eyes dancing with mischief, mock indignation in his tone. “I’m not…not serious.”
My eyes flew wide, but my smile stretched even bigger on my face. Even though I was starting to feel really good about my decisions—to quit the law firm grind and write, to stay on the island with Luke and Luna—it would be a lot to add another child to the mix right away.
From his grin and his tone, I could tell he was teasing me, at least partially.
Saying something crazier than what I said presumably so I stopped feeling self-conscious for asking.
I had no idea if he did it on purpose or if it was just natural for him—his uncanny ability to say what I needed him to say. Every time.
I stood, removed my cover-up, and dragged him into the crashing waves with me, reminding him August was the only time the water was passably warm in New England. He picked me up once we were out past our waists, but a swell crashed over our heads, toppling us. We came up sputtering and laughing.
“I forgot how strong the waves are here!” he called over the surf, whipping his dark hair out of his eyes.
I treaded a few feet away and watched him, water droplets glistening on his tanned, toned shoulders, before dropping my head back to look at the deep blue sky.
Floating on my back, the Atlantic waves lulled me.
I turned and saw Luke doing the same, not two feet away.
I don’t think it gets any better than this.
It almost felt too good to be true.