Winter (Four Seasons #1)

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Winter (Four Seasons #1) Page 38

by Frankie Rose


  MY HEART stops beating. Luke squeezes my hand and inches closer. “What is it? You know what that means?”

  I can’t speak. My throat is burning so badly that I struggle to swallow. I just nod and let my tears slide free down my face. He makes a distressed noise and tugs on my arm. “Let me hold you. Please?”

  His pain looks as real as mine. It seems to swamp him, makes him look a little lost. I sit up and crawl to him, climbing into his lap. He wraps his arms around me and presses his forehead against my temple, whispering soft, soothing things into my hair while I cry. We sit like that for a long time before I have the strength to pull myself together. Those words—fly high, Icarus—they are a message. A message for me. They have to be. I can’t tell Luke that, though. I’m too screwed up to talk about it, so instead I do something I know I’ll regret. I bury my face into his shoulder and let myself cry for one more minute before I draw back a little and kiss his jaw, just below his ear. He stops whispering, his hands stilling where they were stroking gently up and down my back. I freeze, trapped in my indecision. Part of me wants to do it again, but part of me wants to scramble out of his lap and run for the door. Then I think about sitting on the subway all the way back to Columbia, and the posters, and Noah, and Tate still missing, and I need him. I need Luke so badly I can’t breathe. I push down the desperate urge inside me to start tearing at his clothes and carefully press my lips to his skin again.

  He makes a guttural sound in the back of his throat, like he’s trying to form words. His hand travels up my back and he slowly gathers my hair in his fist, drawing it back out of my face. He slouches just a little, searching for my eyes. I hide from him and reach up to the back of his neck, threading my fingers cautiously into his hair.

  “Avery,” he whispers.

  I don’t say anything. I can’t. I just shift my body and twist my leg around so that I’m straddling him now. I dig my fingers into the skin at the back of his neck and whimper when he places his hands on my hips.

  “Avery,” he groans, his voice catching in his throat. “What are we doing?”

  At least he didn’t say, “what the hell are you doing?” I shift in his lap and press up against him, feeling his chest rise and fall quickly against mine.

  “Avery.”

  I dip and press my mouth against his throat and his head tips back. “Please, Luke…” I cry softly. “I just need…I need…”

  His hands tighten on my waist and then they’re fumbling through my hair. He pulls me back, cupping my face in his hands. His eyes are on fire, searching mine. There’s frustration in his voice when speaks.

  “We shouldn’t. You’re upset. This isn’t a good idea.”

  “Please, Luke!” I cover his hands with mine, finally daring to look at him. “Everything hurts. Just make it go away. Please, make it go away.”

  The moment he gives in is like a wall crumbling between us. A fierce intensity changes the way he looks at me. Concern and uncertainty transform into hunger. He growls and sits up to crush his mouth to mine. My head spins as he wrestles with the bottom of my shirt; he rips it clean off and presses his powerful hands into my back so that I fall forward against him. His fingers work quickly at the clasp on my bra and I claw the straps over my shoulders in my hurry to get it off.

  “This is such a bad fucking idea,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

  “I’m not going to hate you, Luke. I need you. I need you right now.”

  A fleeting moment of doubt passes over his face, and I act. I grab hold of his hand and cover my bare breast with it, and right then I know he won’t push me away. His need is visible, evident in the way he reverently strokes his finger across my sensitive skin. I shiver and he looks up at me in a way that makes my lips tingle. I lick them, imagining his mouth on mine again, and Luke watches me, fascinated. He huffs out a heavy breath and tips his head forward to take my nipple into his mouth, turning my breathing ragged. A warm rush floods through my body, and I rock down against him, trying to tighten my thighs around his waist.

  Luke reaches up behind me and holds onto me, scooting forward on the sofa so that he’s sitting on the very edge, and I wrap my legs around him, groaning when he bites down on my nipple. I arch my back against his hands and push down, wanting to feel him between my legs.

  If I’d doubted whether he wanted me before, that fear is cast out and blown to tiny pieces when I feel how hard he is. I rock my hips, grinding into his lap, and he groans, breathing heavily against my breasts.

  “Fuck, I…” he murmurs. “I don’t know what to do.” He sounds pained. I lace my fingers into his hair and tug his head back. I stare down at him, unwilling to look away as I fist his t-shirt and yank it up over his head. I throw it on the ground and press myself to him again.

  “I need to feel your skin on mine,” I pant. A low, animalistic growl rumbles out of Luke’s mouth and he slips his hands in between us, stroking the material of my jeans between my legs. I cry out and clench my thighs around him, pushing against the pressure of his fingers.

  “Hold onto me,” he orders. I wrap my arms around his neck as he hooks his hands underneath my legs, standing up in one swift, fluid movement, as though I weigh nothing at all. Our lips meet and he pushes his tongue into my mouth, stroking over mine, hot and impatient, as he carries me to his bedroom. He puts me down on the bed and leans back to unzip my jeans as I kick off my shoes, and then he falls on me again. I grip hold of his arms where they support him on either side of my head and bite down on his bicep, making him suck in a sharp breath.

  “Oh God,” he groans. “I want you, Ave. I want you so bad.”

  Hearing him say it makes my heart pound in my chest. I kick out of my jeans and gasp when he reaches down and drags them off my body, his hands rough and hurried. When he lets his body press down on top of mine, I hitch my legs around him and squeeze him to me. I tilt my head up and gently lick my tongue across the sharp black lines of the tattoo sweeping over his shoulder. The severity of his expression makes me panic for a second, but when he shudders and his eyes close, I realize he’s enjoying the attention. I run my tongue up and over his neck, tasting the salt on his skin, the smell of him filling my head. He smells, tastes, feels so damn good. I moan, and that’s when he snaps.

  He rips my panties down with one frantic tug and pushes his way in between my legs. I’ve thought about his hands finding me, about how it would feel and how I’d lose myself in the sensation of his fingers sliding inside me. I never imagined his tongue, though.

  “Ahh!” I grip hold of the bed sheets and pull, the muscles in my legs contracting. I kick helplessly against the waves of pleasure coursing through my body with every languorous sweep he makes. He moans into me, his tongue still lapping persistently at the very center of me, causing my back to arch off the bed. Reaching up, Luke finds my hips and pulls me down hard against his mouth.

  “Shit, Luke, please… please…” I beg, not sure what I’m begging for. What I need. My desperation seems to drive him crazy. He lets go of my hips and does what I’d imagined, slowly pushing a finger inside me, while gently rolling his thumb over my sensitive clit.

  “Fuck, you’re so wet, Avery,” he breathes. Our eyes lock down the length of my body and I buck against him, unable to stop myself from reacting to the searing heat that surges through my body with every thrust of his fingers.

  “Please…please…ah, Luke!”

  “I’m gonna make you come,” he whispers, removing his thumb so he can replace it with his tongue again. My body is fire and ice as I shamelessly rock against his mouth. His tongue is unbearably hot, his movements torturously slow. I reach down and bury my hands in his hair, surprising myself with the weak, helpless noises I’m making. “Luke?” I pant, feeling the burning between my legs increase with every gentle lap.

  “Yeah?” His voice is broken as mine.

  “I need you inside me. Please…”

  “I am inside you.”

&
nbsp; “Not…not your fingers…” I stammer. I don’t know how to ask for what I want, but he already knows.

  “I’m going to make you come first. I want to taste you.”

  It doesn’t take long. The muscles in my legs start to cramp as the pressure builds inside me. Hot. I’m too hot. Every part of me burns. Just as I’m ready to start begging again, Luke slips another finger inside me and groans, and I lose the ability to speak. I can only moan and pant and twitch under him as he slowly pumps me with his fingers. “Come on, baby,” he growls. “Come for me.”

  I want him to go faster but he doesn’t; he slows so that I feel every single inch of his fingers as he pushes them inside me, feel each teasing draw of his tongue as he strokes and sucks on me. I’m vibrating by the time the pressure explodes, stealing the air out of my lungs so I can’t even cry out. I tremble under him and contort as he carries on, ignoring my thrashing legs.

  “Stop, stop!” I gasp, clawing at my own thighs each time he licks. He lets out a savage groan and finally stops, climbing up my body, leaving a trail of burning kisses on my hip, my stomach, my breasts as he rises. He looks up at me from under heavy eyelids and another shiver runs through my body, the heat in his gaze too scorching to bear.

  “You’re amazing,” he whispers. He goes to brush my hair, plastered to my skin with my own sweat, out of my eyes, but I catch hold of his wrist. Slowly, I lick at his fingers and watch his mouth fall open. I carefully wrap my lips around his index and middle finger and slide them into my mouth, running my tongue over them and sucking, tasting myself all over him. Luke’s body judders and an agonized sigh stutters out of his mouth.

  “Holy fuck.”

  Suddenly aware of the fact that I’m naked and he’s still half dressed, I go about rectifying the matter. My hand is on his belt when he places his other hand over mine.

  “Avery, I don’t know if… I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop myself if you do that.”

  I make sure he’s looking at me when I say the words, not wanting him to doubt me. “I don’t want you to stop.”

  I unzip his jeans and push him back so I can inch them over his hips and he grunts as he works them off with his feet. Not wanting to give him time to over analyze anything, I slide my hand down the rock solid planes of his stomach and tease at the waistband of his boxer briefs. His eyes grow wide as I slip inside, and when I wrap my fingers around his hard erection his body tenses dramatically.

  “Oh fuck. Fuck!” he growls, biting his lip and closing his eyes. “That feels so good.”

  I tease him the way he teased me, incredibly gentle with my contact, until he is quivering in my hand. His shoulders hitch up and down erratically and he struggles to keep his cool. I fractionally increase the pressure, adrenalin rushing like liquid fire through my veins every time he groans. “You’re going to make me beg, aren’t you?” he whispers.

  I refuse to answer. I inch down his body and pull his boxers off, studying the sculpted lines of his torso and legs as I go. He stops breathing when I tentatively lick the tip of him, his body jerking.

  “I can’t. I need to be inside you,” he rasps, digging his hands into my hair. “I won’t last.”

  “Maybe I want to taste you, too,” I whisper.

  Luke’s hands suddenly tighten around my waist, and he picks me up and throws me onto my back again. “I want to be inside you. I need to feel you around me, Avery. You’re so fucking tight. I have to. Please. Please let me.” He kisses me fiercely, forcing his tongue into mouth, and my body reacts, curving into him. I wrap my legs around his waist once more, but this time there’s nothing between us. No jeans. No underwear. His cock presses up against me, deep between my legs, scaring and thrilling me at the same time.

  Luke shakes his head, as though trying to clear it, and nuzzles into my breasts. “God, I know this is not right, but so help me I want you. Say it. Please say yes,” he groans.

  I push up against him, feeling him slide down so that he is on the verge of entering me, and I whimper, “Yes. Yes. Please.”

  He quickly sits back and I think he’s finally freaking out, but he isn’t. He pulls at the drawer on his nightstand so hard it flies off the runners and slams to the floor with a crash. Doesn’t seem to both Luke; he rummages around for two seconds and comes back holding a small metallic blue square in his hands. He rips it open and I watch as he slips the condom into place, faintly aware of the fact that I’m staring. When he’s done, he pushes back on top of me and braces himself over me.

  “You’re sure?” he whispers.

  “I’m sure.” I hitch my knees up and dig my fingernails into his ass, letting him know I can’t wait any longer. When he rocks forward, pushing into me, we both freeze for a moment, overcome by the intensity of how it feels. He’s way bigger than Justin, the only guy I’ve ever slept with, and the borderline pain of having him inside me is incredible.

  “Oh shit, you’re so tight. Don’t move!” he begs. I still underneath him and watch his face as he struggles to even out his breathing. His eyes lock onto mine as he carefully draws out of me, staring the whole time he slowly inches back. I can’t help it when he thrusts inside again; I buck and push upwards, desperate to feel him deeper, and he lets out a pained groan.

  “Fuck it.” He grabs hold of my wrists the way he did before, except now I’m more than willing to have him pin them over my head. He kisses my throat as he thrusts into me again, delicious darts of pain firing between my legs as he sinks deeper and deeper.

  That crippling heat is building like an unstoppable inferno when Luke starts to shake. “Oh, ffff… I’m gonna…I can’t…”

  My legs lock, drawing him in as deep as he can go. I push up against him so that my breasts brush against his chest with each thrust and suddenly we’re both coming. He stiffens, letting out a panting cry, and I ride into him, my synapses firing blindly as I come apart piece by piece.

  My hands are tingling when Luke lets me go. I brush my fingers up and down his spine, enjoying the way the muscles in his back twitch spasmodically. He settles over me and starts whispering quiet, pretty things into my hair. After a couple of minutes I feel him tensing and know he’s about to get up.

  “Don’t,” I say softly. “Stay inside me.”

  Knowing it’s exactly what I need, Luke gathers me in his arms and cradles me to him. We stay like that until the very last of the daylight fades and we fall asleep as one.

  Nineteen

  Escape

 

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