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Dynamite (Stacked Deck Book 10)

Page 21

by Emilia Finn


  He doesn’t just accept the pleasure I offer, he takes more. He fucks me back, he goes as deep as he can manage, and when he steps up to the very edge of oblivion, he picks me up and tosses me to the bed so I land with a cry and he crawls over me with a gritty chuckle.

  “You’re the fucking devil.” He lifts my legs, pushes my knees up to my ears and exposes me like no man has ever exposed me before, then he looks down at what I have presented. “They call me the devil,” he grits out. “But you bewitch me, Ally. You control me. Which makes you the most devilish of us all.”

  He buries his face between my legs, digs his tongue deep inside my body, and bites when I cry out and want to explode.

  His hands are each larger than my buttocks, they squeeze and bruise and draw me closer to explosion simply by touch. The short stubble on his jaw scratches in the most amazing way. Painful, but it’s like a magical contradiction. His gentle tongue, and then his rough stubble. His loving strokes, and then his bruising hands.

  “Jesus, Luke. I’ve never– I don’t—”

  “Stop thinking,” he bites out on what may be his second to last thread of sanity. “Feel. Feel this, and enjoy it.”

  He slides his tongue along my sensitive slit, then down to my ass until I cry out and barely hold onto my explosion. I’ve never– but it feels– but “Fuckkkkk.”

  “Feels good, don’t it?” He pulls back just a little and grins so my pleasure on his chin shimmers under the lights above. “It’s blowing your fuckin’ mind.”

  “I’m going to come,” I pant and try to straighten my legs. I don’t mean to, not on a conscious level, but my legs reject this position. My lungs and ribs constrict, and my head turns woozy because of this angle. “Luke…”

  “Condom.”

  He reaches over to the bedside drawer, almost tears the whole thing away from the wall, but then he grabs a strip of condoms, and tears one open with a single hand and his teeth. He tosses the packaging with practiced moves, still manages to keep me in this ridiculous position, and as he slides the rubber on, his eyes remain on mine.

  Promise. Threat. Need.

  “Tell me yes, Ally. Say the word, so we can both go into this on the same page.”

  “Yes.” I swallow down a brand new bout of nerves. My brain starts working again, and beats out thoughts of need and passion, and instead wonders if what I have is enough to pleasure him.

  “Stop thinking,” he repeats with a grin.

  Glancing down between us, he works for only a moment, then the tip of his dick touches my sensitized opening and draws new groans from deep in my chest. His eyes come back to mine, and he slams inside with zero hesitation.

  I scream out, pleasure and pain, and squeeze him close. But he’s already in, he’s as close as he can possibly be. Gulping for breath, both of us, Luke’s hands come to my breasts as he starts moving. Slow at first, a silent apology, perhaps, for entering so swiftly, but once he finds a rhythm and I stretch my neck back in pleasure, he starts moving faster, harder, and nudges me up the bed just a little at a time.

  “You’re so fucking tight.” He gulps down a heavy swallow. The veins in his neck grow, they throb and tense as he squeezes his eyes shut and mindlessly pleasures us both. “Fuck, Ally. I’ve thought about this.”

  “Does it live up to the hype?”

  “Mm.”

  Without warning, he rolls left and drags me over to sit on top. He snatches a pillow from the top of the bed, pushes it under his head, and then he bites his bottom lip and watches me move.

  “Don’t think,” he repeats when my eyes shoot around with uncertainty. “If you’re with the right person, if we’re doing the right thing, then you don’t have to think. You just experience. You just do, and you ride the pleasure until you can’t anymore. Like this.” He takes my hands, and places them on his rock-hard chest, then he grabs my hips and helps me roll them. “Like a wave, forward, then back. You ever take dance lessons?”

  “Not since high school.”

  He grins and watches me from beneath hooded eyes. “Remember back to then, and roll your hips. Feel me inside you.”

  “Feels so good.”

  “I know, baby. Feels amazing.” He releases my hips, sits up and places one hand on the bed behind himself, then wraps the other around my hips so our chests touch, and his lips go to my throat. “Slide on me, Ally. Slide your hips however the fuck you need so that you feel the electricity.”

  My breath shudders out and warms the air between us. Quickly, my thinking turns to feeling. The electricity Luke wants me to feel grows into a ball of heat low in my stomach. Like a swirling mass of lava, it spins and moves and grows larger each second that I move over him.

  My breath comes faster, and when I bring my hand up to clutch at his hair, when I tug, his groans turn to an animalistic grunt that brings me teetering to the edge of insanity.

  “Fuck, Ally.” Luke’s arm grows tighter around my hips, punishingly tight, so he changes the way they roll, and instead lifts me up, then slams me down.

  He fucks me, he uses me up, and when that ball of lava grows and grows until I swear it might burn us both, Luke tosses us to the left again, rolls us over, and presses his lips to mine to swallow my cry, then he slams inside me at a blinding pace.

  “I’m gonna come,” I cry out. “Luke!”

  “Come.” He bruises my hips under his strong hands. “Fuck, Ally. You’re so tight.”

  “I’m gonna…” I squeeze my eyes shut and whimper at the pleasure that washes over me. It stretches out and touches every nerve ending. It’s like sliding into a warm bath. But that bath is filled with popping candy. “Luke.”

  “Ally.”

  He slides his lips over mine, and groans so his hot breath fills my lungs. He comes without saying so. His body jerks, his hips spasm, and despite the condom separating us, I feel the warmth his body gives mine.

  Panting, hammering heart, Luke collapses on top of me so my lungs constrict, and my head turns woozy. And yet, I don’t want him to get off. My throat is parched, and my lips are dry. My head throbs with a strange sex-headache, but my smile creeps up.

  “Am I crushing you?” He presses a gentle kiss to my collarbone. My throat. The very tip of my nipple. His movements are slow, lazy, but luxurious like a cat sleeping in the sun. “Because even if I am, I’m not sure I have the strength to get up yet.”

  “Little bit,” I grunt out and giggle when the grunt is real. “Can’t breathe.”

  “Ugh.” He flops to the side, wraps his arms around my torso, and drags me over so I rest on his muscular chest. “Better?”

  “Mm.” And so I return the favor by pressing a kiss to the tip of his nipple. “Now my butt is cold.”

  “Well, you’re gonna have to deal for a minute. I think I’m blind, so my needs trump yours.”

  I scoff and lay my cheek on his chest. He’s so hard, so broad, which should mean uncomfortable… yet my eyes close, and my breathing evens out. “Can I sleep here for a little while?”

  “Yes.” He reaffirms his hold around my body as though to keep me in place. “You can sleep here all night. And then all day tomorrow while we fuck some more. And then, if we’re feeling frisky, you can stay tomorrow night as well.”

  “So chivalrous,” I snicker and twine my legs with his. My body somehow knows this is my resting place for tonight, so now that I’ve had my orgasm, a yawn overtakes my system, and tears squeeze past my eyelashes. “I’m sleepy.”

  “Good thing we’re already settled in.” Without moving me too much, Luke reaches down and arranges his blankets. He pulls them halfway up our bodies, covers my ass and fixes the cold butt issue, then he yawns too, and finishes it with a kiss to my brow. “Totally lived up to the hype, by the way.”

  I snort and wrap my arm across his torso. “Thanks, I guess. Nicest thing anyone has ever said to me after sex.”

  “Get used to it.” He brings a hand up and twines his fingers in my hair until he can pull my head back. His eyes meet
mine, sleepy and warm. “Goodnight, Ally. Sweet dreams.”

  “Night, Luke.” I stretch forward and press a kiss to his lips. “Dream of me.”

  At some point around midnight, I remember crawling off of Luke’s chest and fumbling around for something to wear. It was pitch-black, even with the curtains open, but I managed to find one of his shirts and my panties, then, stumbling into the hall, I made my way toward the kitchen for a glass of water.

  When I reached the end of the hall and stopped at the doorway to the living room, I was surprised to find Rob and Emma spread out on the couch, sleepy eyes, relaxed postures, while a movie played on the large-screen TV a few feet in front of them.

  Their gazes came to me, curious, and after a moment, a little mocking.

  “Shut up.” Heat blazed in my cheeks when I realized why they were smiling. “You didn’t hear anything.”

  “We heard everything,” Emma murmured. “Little Lukey got game.”

  “He ain’t little.” I passed through the living room with a dismissive wave, and after helping myself to a glass of water in the kitchen, I stumbled back through the living room and away from the cute couple watching a film decades older than they themselves are. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Allyson.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to find Emma’s teasing smirk. “Enjoy your night in a Hart bed. Tell him to be considerate and let you come a few more times.”

  “Emma,” Rob grumbled. “Zip it.”

  She rolled her eyes and kicked her feet up to rest on his lap. “Always zipping, never unzipping. Night, Ally.”

  “Night, lovebirds.”

  I remember walking along the hall, back into the darkness, and just seconds after that, crawling into bed and smiling at the way, even in his sleep, Luke opened his arms and welcomed me back in with a kiss to my brow.

  Even in his sleep, he knows me, he welcomes me, and then he wraps me up and makes me his little spoon.

  Butterflies flutter inside my stomach. Not the kind that make me nervous and force me into a sense of nausea, but the other kind. Like the gentle tickle when their wings touch my skin, and the warmth of a spring day, when sunlight fills my pores with vitamins. I mean the most relaxing, most comfortable flutter of sensation as I half sleep, half doze in the early morning light.

  My hips roll once more, and as I slowly swim back to consciousness, my breath comes faster and faster. I’m caught in the inbetween, the place between sleep and awake. My mind clutches to the remnants of a sweet dream of Luke and I swimming at the lake. Sunlight, warm water, fun and flirting in the daylight. But as reality encroaches, I can’t say I’m all that upset about it.

  Fingers slide between my legs, gentle kisses are peppered to my thighs, and that ball of lava from last night begins again, swirling, growing. But it’s not a tidal wave of sensation this time. It’s not all-consuming and violent. Rather, it’s a gentle rocking, like a boat on calm waters. It’s a slow build, a tender crest, and then an easy slide over to the other side.

  I sigh as I come, and smile when Luke builds me up again. His hands are skilled, his mouth even more so. Without opening my eyes, I still see him between my legs. I feel his broad shoulders spreading me wide, his thick fingers, stretching me out. His hot breath is like tropical breeze somewhere beautiful and faraway.

  “One more.” His voice is gravelly and demanding, but gentle and loving at the same time. “Give me one more, Ally.”

  I bring my feet closer to my body, lift my knees, and spread my legs wider. Invitation. Permission. So instead of fingers, Luke crawls along my body, and quickly swipes his hand out for another condom – we’ve used many throughout the night. Smoothly, he gets the rubber on with hardly any effort, and tosses the foil packet as he moves, so by the time his body covers mine, he’s able to slide straight in and swallow my sigh of pleasure.

  “So fucking perfect.” He rocks slowly, gently, and grinds against my hips so his dick is merely a slide against my most sensitive places. Friction and rhythm, that’s all it takes to bring me closer to the edge. Our breath comes faster, but it’s not like how it was last night.

  “Ally.” He buries his face against my neck and bites down on a quiet groan.

  He’s going to leave marks, but I can’t find it in my heart to care as I wrap my arms around his muscular shoulders. So large, so tanned and defined. Tattoos cover the muscle, and the muscle ripples as he moves. The sight alone is an aphrodisiac, to have someone so strong, so capable, glide over me with such tender care.

  “I wanted your name,” he whispers by my ear. “I wanted your smile. But I got so much more.”

  “You callin’ me easy?”

  He chuckles and slides his lips along my collarbone. “No, I’m calling you important.”

  Ally

  Next Step

  It’s a workday for me, which means I need to get up and get back to my hotel so I can shower, dress, and eat before heading to the office. But laying here might be the most luxurious thing I’ve ever done in my life. It’s warm, but not hot. It’s comfortable, but without making me sleepy.

  I’m running on only a handful of hours’ sleep, and those hours were broken up. But still, I’m not tired. I’m not dragging.

  Mostly, I’m flying on the adrenaline that comes with feelings. And damn me, I swore I wouldn’t catch any of those.

  Luke lays on his back, and I lay on mine, but with my head on his shoulder. He plays with my hand, twines our fingers together, turns our hands over to see what they look like from a different angle.

  Groaning with contentment, I draw a deep breath, then let it out on a sigh. “I need to get up and go to work.”

  “Mmm. Call in sick,” he murmurs. “Tell her you got rabies or something.”

  “Rabies.” I snicker and study the bracelet that shimmers on my wrist as he spins our hands. A gift from a thirteen-year-old. A premonition from a child. “Not sure she’ll believe that.”

  “Then you underestimate the situation you’re in. Sonia sent you on an anti-crime crime mission last night with me. A Hart twin. That makes rabies a completely realistic outcome. She won’t even question it.”

  “And still…” I stretch my head back and try to catch his eye. “I’m gonna get up and go to work. And you need to go to your job.” Then I frown. “But I only just realized I have no clue what your job is.”

  “I work at my family’s gym.”

  “Oh.” I roll my eyes and laze back against his shoulder. “Of course you do. That explains why you’re always fighting. And your complete lack of caring about being on time.”

  “First of all, Judgy McJudgerson, I’m always on time to my job. Just because you don’t see it doesn’t make it not true. And second, I’m not always fighting. Not how you mean, anyway.”

  “No? How do I mean?”

  “Brawling with guys and getting slapped with court orders to stop.”

  “Right.”

  “I rarely do that. And it’s not often the law catches up with it. I spar at the gym every single day, but that’s sport, so it doesn’t count.”

  “You enjoy hitting people. Admit it.”

  “I do admit it,” he chuckles and brings our joined hands to his lips. “Hitting folks turns me the fuck on.”

  “I’ve come to learn everything turns you on. Including looking in the mirror.”

  “Especially looking in the mirror,” he laughs. “Wanna fuck again? My dick is hard.”

  “No.” I have to work hard to pull my hand from his, then when he tries to grab on again, I slap his thigh and move away before he can pull me back.

  My palm sings from the smack, and Luke’s laughter is replaced with a pain-filled yelp, but I move away before he can grab on. “I seriously have to get up.”

  I stumble away from his bed and move around in search of my things. Despite finding my panties for my midnight walk of shame, they’re missing once again, so I search under the piles of clothes on the floor. I check on the end of the bed, and for shits
and giggles, I check behind the TV sitting on top of a set of drawers.

  Shaking my head, I take them from their spot, hooked on the back of the TV, and slide my legs in. “You just toss things away when you deem them unnecessary, don’t you?”

  “No point letting a scrap of lace get in our way when we’re trying to have a good time.” He sits at the top of his bed, leaning against the headboard so his stomach and chest are bare for me to see, but the sheet covers him from the hips down. For once in his life, he’s going for modesty. “You got handprints on your ass, by the way.” He grins when I glance up. “Thought you oughtta know.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t hit so much in bed, then. It leaves marks.”

  “Please,” he scoffs. “When you cream the way you do after a smack?” He smirks and shakes his head. “I’m gonna keep doing that.”

  Thank god, is all I can manage to think as I grab my jeans and stab my legs into the denim. “You getting up?”

  “Yup. But your boobies are still out, so I’m not moving until I absolutely must. Or, ya know, until you put a bra on.”

  And so I spin in search of my bra. “What do you do at your family’s gym?”

  When he says nothing, I stop dressing and turn to meet his eyes. “Luke?”

  “What do you mean what do I do? It’s a gym. The answer is in the name.”

  “Actually, it’s not, and for someone who doesn’t regularly go inside a gym, especially not the kind of gym that people beat other people up in, I can’t say I automatically know what you do.”

  “I train.” He relaxes back and rests his hands behind his head. “I train other people – that’s what I’m paid to do – and I train myself, or I let my cousins help train me. That’s how we prepare for the tournament each year.”

  “So what do you do when you’re training other people? Humor me, since I’m trying to understand it in my head.”

  Smirking, he nods and watches my every move as I sit on the end of the bed to pull my sneakers on. “My gym hosts classes for the regular folks who think they wanna learn how to hit someone. These people aren’t going to become contenders, they just wanna have fun and get fit. Every now and again, someone in those classes shines extra bright, so we push them harder, and perhaps bump them over to one-on-one sessions if they’re interested. The group classes are usually talking about technique, so we run them through drills, partner up and spar. Those classes are fun, because mostly, folks are laughing and having a good time.”

 

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