Magnolia
My heart thunders in my chest, my breaths coming out heavy, labored, and he hasn’t even truly touched me yet.
Lukas brushes his nose against my inner thigh, moving closer to where I so badly need him. My body squirms, skin on fire, and I let out a full-body shudder the longer he teases. “Lukas,” I whine, and I reach down, sliding my hands into his hair to pull him to me.
His laugh rumbles against my pussy, his mouth so close I can feel the exhale, but he’s not close enough.
I roll my hips, trying to inch closer to him, and I can practically hear his grin.
“Just let me look for a minute, baby.”
I moan, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth and biting down so hard it hurts. He wasn’t joking when he said he’d have me soaked without truly touching me. I bet I could get off just like this, to the image of him between my thighs, just to the thought of him touching me.
“Put me out of my misery,” I grunt, and I’m about to tease him again, to tell him that maybe he’s not such a good boy, when he finally touches me.
He swipes two of his fingers through my cunt, and I arch at the touch.
“So fucking wet,” he rumbles, swiping again, and then he takes his thumbs and spreads my lips. “Just as pretty as I remember.”
I open my eyes and stare down at him just as his gaze flicks up to mine, and he holds it, unwavering as his tongue darts out and he licks a long, slow swipe from lips all the way up to my clit.
I sink back into the bed, practically melting into the pillows at the feel of his wicked tongue.
This, this is what it’s supposed to be like when you’re with someone.
There was a point in my life where I was so angry with myself for being unable to be physical with anyone else.
I had coached myself, talked myself in circles, tried to imagine what it would be like, feel like, but every fantasy I tried to conjure up only turned into Lukas.
His hands, his soft lips, the swell of his back muscles as his head is buried between my legs. There was always only him, and now that he’s back—that we’re back, I’m so thankful it never worked out with anyone else.
“Lukas,” I pant, tightening the grip my hands have on his hair.
“Fuck, baby,” he grunts against me. “I forgot how fucking good you taste. This sweet pussy, all for me.”
“Oh, God.”
The sounds he’s making are downright sinful. He devours me like a man truly starved, like he’s on death row and I’m his last meal.
“I can’t wait to fuck you, baby.”
I moan at that, my hands leaving his head to slide up my body. I cup my breasts, rolling my nipples between my fingers, pinching them, needing something to distract me, to bring me back down to earth.
Lukas rises on an elbow, adjusting his position so he can slide two fingers deep inside. I’m so wet they sink like a heavy weight, and he groans, his eyes darting up to stare at me. “You’re so fucking tight, baby.”
The room spins, my face heats, and I feel myself crumbling. “Lukas, I’m gonna, I’m gonna...”
His mouth is back on me, fingers pumping in and out lewdly, and when he pulls my clit into his mouth and sucks, my orgasm hits.
I come on a scream, reaching down to palm the back of his head and push his mouth into me, grinding myself against his face. He moans, welcoming me, and I wrap a leg around his head.
My back arches, and when I start to come down from the high, my body becomes too sensitive, each lap of his tongue as he finishes nearly tickling me. I pull back, trying to inch up the bed, but he growls, tightening his grip on my thigh and yanking me back to his face.
“Lukas, oh my God. I’m too sensitive, it’s, it’s…”
“Give me one more, baby. Soak my face, show me who you belong to.”
His hands slide up my body until he grips my breasts, using his hold to pull me to him.
My body doesn’t know how to react. My mind is mush. All I can do is give myself to him, trusting him as I scream out, my ragged voice echoing off the walls of the room.
His fingers slide down my stomach, digging as they go, until he grips my hips. He pulls my leg forward, sliding my thigh around his head, and when my back arches, he lifts with me, his mouth never leaving my pussy as my lower body bows off the bed.
“I’m gonna come again, oh my God.”
Our movements are frantic, hands fumbling as he lowers me back to the bed.
With his mouth sucking on my clit, he shoves two fingers deep inside, the tips curling forward.
He tries to add a third finger, but I’m too tight, it’s been too long, so he pauses, pulling back with an almost pained look on his face as he watches my body stretch to fit him.
“Mags, baby,” he groans, and in the end, it’s his voice that does me in.
The way his face is flushed, soaked with my first orgasm, and the way he stares as he fingers me.
I cry his name as I come again, and he pumps his hands, keeping the rhythm I need and finishing me off in only the way that Lukas knows how.
Once I’m spent, body limp, he finally pulls away. My eyes flutter shut, and I roll to my side, panting into my pillow.
Lukas crawls up my body, kissing my hip, my waist, my neck as he goes, and then he gently rolls me to the side, using his knees to spread my legs apart.
He lays his weight on me, nuzzling against my neck, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders.
“Can I fuck you?” he whispers against my skin.
“I might die if you don’t.” My trembling hands slide up his neck to cup his face, and I gently pull his head from my shoulder. He looks as spent as I feel, and a little sad, almost. “You okay?”
A ghost of a smile crosses his lips. “The happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life, Mags.”
He presses a soft kiss to my lips, and I hold it, reaching down between us to grip his cock. I inch him toward my center, but he halts.
“Do we need a condom?”
“Do we?” We both know I’ve only been with him, and I’m still on birth control. He said he wore a condom with Candi, even though it didn’t hold. And I know, with every fiber in my being, there will be no one else for me.
“I got tested after Candi, just in case. Otherwise, it’s only been you.”
I already knew that but hearing it still relaxes me a little. I stroke his cock, and this time when I guide him forward, he lets me.
He inches the head inside, and even though he just had his fingers in me, the stretch is tight, but wonderful, and my eyes flutter shut on instinct.
“Look at me, pretty girl,” Lukas whispers against my skin, and when I open my eyes, he’s so close, staring down at me. “Don’t look away, please.”
“I won’t.” It’s not like we don’t know who we’re with right now, but I wonder if he’s dreamt about this like I have. I wonder if his memories of what sex is like between us are as haunting to him as they are to me, and he needs to see me, to watch, to know that it’s real, and it’s us.
I press my hand to his cheek, refusing to look away, refusing to even blink as he pushes his entire length into me. My chest heaves, head begging to arch back, but I push forward, my forehead resting on his. “Lukas,” I breathe, my body working to adjust to his size.
Once he’s fully seated in me, some of the strain seems to leave his body. His own eyes fall shut, and he buries his head in my neck, pressing his lips to my skin as he slowly pulls back. He’s almost out of me, leaving just the tip in, and then he surges forward, pulling a gasp from my throat.
He works at that pace—long, lazy thrusts, thrusts that have my body coiling tight, and goosebumps breaking out against my skin even though I’m sweating. His mouth finds mine, and he kisses me, swiping his tongue against my bottom lip, and I open for him.
My hands cling to his shoulders, and I dig my nails in, knowing he’ll likely wear my scars for days.
But something about that seems to spur him on, and his thrusts pick up speed. His hips are snapping so hard the headboard starts to rap against the wall.
“Lukas,” I moan, my hands sliding up his neck to grip his jaw, my mouth finding his with my eyes closed.
Our kisses are deep, filthy, the tender nervousness that plagued us earlier is nowhere to be found.
“Fuck, Mags, baby,” he grunts as a bead of sweat rolls down his face. It trickles down his chin, dropping onto my chest, and something about that drives me crazy.
“Bend me over,” I gasp, and it takes him a minute to digest what I’m asking. “Please, Lukas.”
He pulls back, his face flushed, crescent shaped scars covering his body from my hands and teeth. His chest heaves with each breath, and he rises to his knees, a hand coming to slap my hip. “Turn around, Mags, face down, ass up.”
I do as he asks, rolling over and rising to my elbows at the same time he grips my hips, pulling my ass up to the height he wants me at.
I feel him adjust his stance one more, spreading his knees, getting a grip on the bed, then he’s pushing into me again, and with the angle and how swollen I am, I have to drop my head, burying my face into the pillow.
I’m a panting, gasping mess, but Lukas doesn’t let up. He thrusts hard, punishing thrusts, pouring all the emotions we’ve both held back into this moment. He grips my hip with one hand, then his other comes up, delivering a firm slap to my backside, and I cry out.
“Again,” I beg, knowing that one more spank from him will be all I need to push me over that edge. Lukas does as I ask, like he always does, and the moment my skin feels the sting of his hand, my orgasm hits.
Lukas isn’t far behind me. His firm grip is the only thing holding my body up for him as he pumps into me, and then I feel him pause, his cock twitching deep inside as he comes.
We drop to the bed, me, face down with my arms trapped beneath me, and Lukas lies at my side, as his arm comes around my back to usher me over so I can face him.
He presses his forehead against mine, his arm pulling me close as we work to even out our breathing.
“Holy shit,” he says, and when I can finally peek my eyes open, his head is resting on the pillow, eyes closed, and he looks like he’s on the verge of falling asleep.
I stare at him, at his mussed hair, his puffy lips, and tears spring to my eyes. “I love you, Lukas.”
His eyes dart open, wide awake, and the arm that he had draped over my shoulder tightens. “Tell me again.”
I smile, leaning in to kiss him as I brush the words across his lips. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
He pulls me to him, rolling onto his back and dragging me along with him. He peppers my face, my neck, my chest with kisses before both of his hands come to grip my face. “Promise.”
Pressing my hands to the bed, I push up so I can face him. “Promise.”
“Forever?”
Of course, I mean forever. I meant forever when I first told him that I loved him.
I meant forever when I promised him before he deployed.
I knew I’d love him forever even when I had to end our relationship.
But now? Now that we’ve grown and we’ve worked our way back together, there’s no way I could ever be apart from him again.
“Forever.”