Chapter 41 #2
His tongue swirled around mine in my mouth and a soft moan escaped me.
I had no more thoughts except the taste of his tongue and the want building inside my body.
I rolled my hips over his lap, needing the friction to start relieving the impossible ache in between my legs.
He sucked in a breath through his teeth, and the hardness I felt pressing against the zipper of his shorts told me why.
A few more needy, instinctual revolutions of my hips and I had to have more.
It would never be enough. I’d never get sick of his calloused hands on my body, his strong arms around my back.
I’d never tire of running my fingers through his thick, dark hair.
I need more, I thought again. More of him, less of the fabric separating us where our need pooled. My hands plunged down between us. I sat back on my heels to undo his belt, and then the button and zipper of his shorts.
His mouth claimed mine again, tongue delving so deep I whimpered, which only encouraged him more.
His hands skated from my waist to the band of my underwear, giving it an aggressive tug.
He pushed me up to stand in front of him and pulled them down to my ankles.
Straddling but hovering over him, we worked his shorts and boxer briefs down enough to free his erection before I sank back down on him, rubbing my wet core over the length of his smooth, hard shaft.
I nearly cried out, pressing my mouth into his shoulder to muffle the noise.
It felt so good. The hisses and sharp breaths escaping Luke’s perfect lips told me it felt good for him, too.
I covered his mouth with mine for a heady, breathless kiss as I slid against him carefully, his head hitting my clit in a bolt of ecstasy each time. But my heart longed for more.
“I need you inside me,” I whispered into his ear, pulling the lobe between my lips. His hands squeezed my hips even harder. Hard enough to bruise me, and I lived for it, wanted my body marked by him as permanently as my soul.
“I want you so bad, baby, but I don’t have anything here.”
“I don’t care,” my body answered for me.
“I’m tested and clear,” he said.
“Me too.” I hadn’t let Max near me without a condom, and I’d gotten tested after our breakup anyway to be sure.
Needing no more encouragement, he used those strong, addictive hands to lift me up, positioned himself at my entrance, and then pressed me back down over him, gliding himself inside.
We stared at each other as I moved myself up and down on top of him, mouths parted, our faces betraying the lust and ecstasy of our first joining like this—bare.
I leaned back further, holding his gaze.
His eyes were so dark they were almost black instead of brown, his dark hair tousled.
Those sensual lips remained parted as he watched me.
I was sure my desire mirrored his own as I braced myself on his knees while he shoved into me again and again.
With one hand gripping my shoulder so I wouldn’t fall back too far, the other lifted the skirt of my dress so his thumb could work circles over the most sensitive bundle of nerves between my legs.
“Luke,” I whimpered, shifting forward again. Overwhelmed, I pushed a hand into his hair and kissed him like his mouth was sustenance and I hadn’t eaten in weeks. His lips and tongue and teeth met mine with equal enthusiasm.
I relished that this was the first time we’d done this, been this close, nothing between us.
“I’m not on birth control,” I felt the need to remind him. The chances it would matter were slim, but I didn’t have the mental capacity to explain ovulation cycles while I was riding the edge of a shattering orgasm, and it felt like Luke was, too.
“I know,” he rasped into my ear. “I don’t care.”
I pulled back to look at him.
“Do you want to stop, before…?” he asked. Our movements slowed. He stopped touching me for a moment, and my body screamed for his fingers to resume. His gaze was determined but questioning. He’d stop immediately if I asked.
“No.”
Our next joining was forceful and deep and consuming. Our bodies picked up. I met each of his thrusts with a press of my hips and his godsent fingers reached between us again.
“Val, I’m going to—”
“Yes,” I cried softly, because I loved it when he unraveled, and I was close to unraveling, too. One more adamant joining and he was there, panting into my neck, fingers still working me until I cried out too, moments later.
I began to lift off of his lap, but his hands held me in place by my hips.
“Stay put,” he all but growled. Oh boy. A bewildering amount of joy overtook me at the prospect we’d just discovered a new kink for Luke.
For someone who’d spent her whole life trying not to get pregnant, I surprised myself with how much this thrilled me.
It’s the commitment it symbolizes, you softie.
“I don’t think it makes a difference,” I murmured.
His dark brows knitted together. “Logically, it feels like it should. Let me have this.” A satisfied sigh left his throat as he rested his head back on the couch, never loosening his grip on my hips.
I giggled and attacked his exposed neck with loving kisses before wrapping my arms around his back.
Afternoon light snuck through the gaps in the blinds on the windows behind the couch.
I’d forgotten what time of day it was, forgotten everything that wasn’t assuaging Luke’s doubts and reconnecting with him in every possible way.
We held each other, the only sounds our breathing and the hum of cars and people outside, far away.
“What did I do to deserve you?” he whispered after a minute, or ten, I didn’t know.
I pressed my lips into his cheek, just above his beard. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing about you.”