Unbuttoned

by Maisey Yates

  He angled his head and deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers. She dug her nails into the back of his neck, trying to anchor herself to the ground, trying to keep her knees from folding beneath her. No wonder Lucas had so much success with women. If word got around, and she was sure in some circles it did, about what he could do with his tongue . . .

  He would have to pry women off of him with a crowbar. Which he basically did, so clearly word had gotten out.

  But tonight, tonight he was hers. All hers. It didn’t matter how many other women there’d been, or even how many there would be after her, because all that mattered was now.

  He abandoned her lips and blazed a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, and down the v-neck of her blouse, to the curve of her cleavage.

  “You, Carly Denton,” he rasped, “need to be unbuttoned, very badly.”

  He slipped the top button of her blouse through the hole. The fabric separated, and he bent his head, kissing the slice of newly revealed skin. Then he did the same with the next button, and the next, with a kiss for each new bit of her body he revealed.

  He reached the button beneath her bra and dropped to his knees, kissing down her stomach until her shirt was completely open. Then he traced a line up her midsection with the tip of his tongue as he got to his feet again, pushing her blouse from her shoulders and letting it drop to the floor.

  It was going to wrinkle. Badly. It would be a big pain the butt to iron. She might even have to get it dry-cleaned. But as the thought ran quickly through her mind, she found she simply didn’t care.

  “You need to let your hair down,” he said, his lips firm and warm on the side of her neck. He reached behind her head and pulled the clip from her hair, letting it fall loose around her shoulders. “Have a little fun.”

  “Oh, Lucas,” she said, saying his name, a reminder of who she was with. A shiver of need shook her, tightening the coil of desire that was intensifying inside of her with every touch of his mouth and hands to her skin.

  This was Lucas. Lucas Miller. And for the first time, she could acknowledge that he was the man she’d always wanted to be with like this.

  Maybe that was why it had been easier to simply treat him like she had. Because anger was easier to deal with than longing, unrequited and so deep that right now, she shook with it.

  But now it would be answered. Right now, it was requited, and right now, it was being sated.

  “You like this?” he asked, kissing her lips again, light, a tease. A perfect, torturous tease.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice trembling.

  “More?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He reached behind her and unclipped her bra, letting it fall loose. She took a step back and pushed the straps down her arms, letting it fall to the floor with her blouse.

  She was too turned on to be embarrassed, too full of want to worry about the fact that she was half naked in front of a man for the first time. She just wanted to know what he’d do with this new part of herself she’d revealed.

  He didn’t disappoint. Lucas leaned in and ran the flat of his tongue over one tightened bud before sucking it deep into his mouth. A sharp, hot arrow of desire hit her straight in the stomach and radiated out, making her internal muscles pulse, making her conscious of a deep, empty ache inside of her. An ache, an emptiness, she knew could only be satisfied by Lucas.

  She wasn’t sure how she knew, only that she did.

  He cupped her other breast with his hand, teasing her nipple with his thumb while he continued to lavish attention on the other with his mouth.

  She felt like she was falling, weightless, the room, the world, the bonds that had felt so tight around her, dropping away and leaving nothing more than this. Nothing more than Lucas, nothing more than Carly.

  “How about we get comfortable?” Lucas asked.

  She was expecting him to suggest they head upstairs, which made her a little bit nervous, a pang of angst cutting through the desire. “Okay,” she said. Because she wasn’t going to stop now. She couldn’t.

  Lucas lifted her with ease, and took a few steps across the room before depositing her gently onto the couch. “This’ll do,” he said.

  Now she felt a little embarrassed. Sitting topless on Lucas’s couch like she’d come over for a drink and forgotten half of her outfit.

  He was devouring her with his eyes, the heat in those dark depths sizzling across her skin. And that made it hard for her to hold on to embarrassment. Hard for her to hold on to anything but the need. The driving, hungry need that was making her body feel like it didn’t belong to her anymore.

  Lucas dropped to his knees in front of her, taking hold of her foot and lifting it, pressing a kiss to her ankle.

  Oh, no, her body didn’t belong to her. Not right now. Her body belonged to Lucas.

  “I think I want your shoes on,” he said, his voice rough. He put his hands on her thighs and pushed her skirt up, revealing more skin. “But I want these,” he moved his hand to the top of her legs, brushed his thumb along her hipbone, over the thin fabric of her panties, “off.”

  Before she could think say anything, or even process the rough words, he’d hooked his fingers into her underwear and started tugging them down her legs.

  “Better,” he said. “Much better.”

  When he leaned in, his shoulders forcing her legs apart, she felt a jolt of uncertainty.

  She looked down at the top of his head, at those wide shoulders. This was Lucas. Lucas as she’d never experienced him before, but Lucas all the same.

  There was comfort in that. Comfort and an illicit thrill. To have the man that she’d had so much longing for when she was younger, finally on his knees in front of her. Of course, what she’d wanted from him then had been a lot more innocent.

  But this was a lot more fun.

  The first pass of his tongue over her sensitized flesh shocked her, and she bucked beneath his mouth, the pleasure so sharp, so intense, she wasn’t sure she could handle it.

  His hands gripped her hips, blunt-tipped fingers digging into her skin as he held her still, forced her to submit to the sensual assault.

  She covered her eyes with her arm, her hips moving in time with the strokes of his tongue. “Oh . . . Lucas. Oh . . .” She couldn’t do anything but moan the words, over and over. She felt like she was going to burst, the tension, the need, so intense and tight inside of her she didn’t think she could take any more.

  It was building, so fast, so big, filling her, taking over.

  He released his hold on one of her hips and dropped his hand down between her legs, his fingers joining with his mouth. He teased the entrance to her body with his finger, just teasing, as he continued to taste her, to lavish attention on her clitoris.

  Then he slid his finger deep inside, the sensation completely new, satisfying and exaggerating the ache that had built now to the point of pain. He added a second finger, stretching her, the slight bit of pain it caused easing the moment his tongue worked its way over the sensitive bundle of nerves again.

  He worked his fingers in and out of her gently, establishing a rhythm with hands and tongue. When she thought she would break, shatter with the force of the pressure building inside of her, it released.

  The wave of pleasure broke over her, leaving her powerless to do anything but simply let it direct her, control her, carrying her body along the current as pleasure surged and ebbed through her. She grabbed fistfuls of Lucas’s hair, trying to anchor herself, trying to keep from floating away, lost in the endless flow of release.

  When she came back to herself, she was aware, again, of the fact that she was sitting on Lucas’s couch, mostly naked. The fabric was rough beneath her bottom, on her back. And he was kneeling in front of her, getting a very intimate view of her body, his fingers still deep inside of her
.

  There was no sound, not beyond their fractured breathing. It was the fact that he was breathing hard too that kept her from pulling away from him in embarrassment. The fact that his cheeks were flushed with desire, his chest rising and falling sharply, told her he’d enjoyed what had happened just as much as she had.

  “Lucas, I—”

  He leaned in and captured her lips with his, withdrawing slowly from her body as he did. “I hope you still want more,” he said, his voice strangled. “Because now I don’t think I could turn back if Mac was pounding on the door.”

  She grimaced. “We don’t need to mention him.”

  Lucas shook his head. “No. We don’t.”

  She wanted to say something more. Wanted to . . . thank him, maybe, for what he’d just done. She’d never experienced anything like it, had never, in her life, felt so weightless. So unbound. She’d had to surrender herself completely, but in that surrender, she’d been shocked to find freedom.

  “Take me upstairs now.”

  He nodded, standing then reaching down to take her hand in his, drawing her up against his chest and kissing her. Then he scooped her up again, as easily as before, and carried her up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom.

  He set her down next to the bed.

  “A girl could get used to traveling that way,” she said.

  “You think?”

  “Yes, it’s kind of nice to let someone else do the work for a while.”

  “I plan on doing a lot more . . . work for you tonight.”

  She felt herself blush and she marveled for a second that after what had passed between them she still had the ability to blush. “I think I can handle that.”

  “Just a second.” He turned and walked out of the room, into the bathroom, appearing a moment later with a box of condoms. He tossed them on top of the nightstand. “Better than trying to remember later,” he said.

  She nodded, grateful, in that moment, for his experience, because her thoughts were shattered, and trying to get a clear picture of what should happen next was nearly impossible.

  She looked down at the aggressive bulge in his jeans and she felt another little flutter of nerves. But everything so far had felt good. And even when it had hurt for a second, it hadn’t taken long for the pleasure to eclipse it.

  So this should be no different. Maybe.

  “Kiss me?” she asked. Things seemed easier when he kissed her, the world a little softer, a little hazier. She’d never realized a kiss could have so much power until she’d kissed Lucas.

  “Of course, sugar,” he said, circling her waist with his arms and kissing her with a tenderness that stole her breath and started the empty ache in her again. Even though he’d just satisfied her, she felt all needy again.

  “I want you, Lucas,” she said, needing to say his name again.

  “I want you too, Carly.” She was stupidly pleased that he’d said her name. That he wanted her, and not just sex.

  Because even though this would never be anything more than one night, she wanted him to want her. Because she wanted him. Because, as much as this was about wanting a new experience, wanting a few hours of uninhibited freedom, she knew it wasn’t an experience she would crave if it wasn’t with Lucas.

  She put her palms flat against his chest, the hair rough beneath them, and slid them over his muscles, a little thrill running through her. Having all that masculine power beneath her fingertips was a turn-on she hadn’t anticipated. Having access to a body like Lucas’s was a thrill all on its own, even without his wicked tongue.

  She stopped at the waistband of his jeans, running her fingertips along the edge.

  “Tease,” he said.

  “Just trying to decide what to do next,” she said, an admission that was maybe a little too honest, but she was too bare to be coy. Too naked to lie. Emotionally more than physically, since she was still wearing her skirt and shoes.

  “I can help with that.” He gripped the tab on her skirt zipper and tugged it down, letting her skirt fall around her feet. “And now you can lose the shoes,” he said.

  She complied, kicking her pumps off and kicking them, and the skirt, to the side. She was totally naked now, and he was still wearing those jeans.

  “Sexy as these are,” she said, not recognizing the husky voice as her own, “it’s time for them to go.”

  “I agree, sugar.” He undid the snap, then lowered the zipper, and her heart caught in her throat. He shucked his pants and underwear in one fluid movement, revealing the extent of his arousal to her.

  She might have gone slack-jawed. She was pretty sure she did. “Oh . . .” She’d never been this close to a man before. Had never actually seen a man naked and aroused. She reached out and encircled his length with her hand. Because she wanted to. Because this was about doing what she wanted. “You’re so hard.” She felt awkward, stupid, the minute the words left her mouth.

  His erection pulsed in her hand. “You know the right things to say,” he said.

  “I’m just . . . saying the first things that come to my mind,” she said. “Maybe I shouldn’t talk. You said you didn’t want to talk.”

  “I don’t,” he said. “But I do like hearing you say things like that. That’s different than having a conversation.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Anyway, a conversation will be kind of difficult to carry on in a few minutes.”

  She nodded. She was sure he was right. She was having a hard time even thinking coherently at the moment.

  He put his hand over hers and squeezed, his eyes closing and a sharp curse escaping his lips.

  “Like this?” she asked, squeezing him hard, like he’d done.

  “Yes.”

  She did it a couple more times, until she felt the muscles in his chest tense, quiver. She was satisfied by that, because she wanted to make him feel what he’d made her feel. Wanted him to lose his mind the same way she had.

  “Bed,” he said, short, clipped.

  She nodded and sat on the bed. He leaned over her, one hand resting on the mattress behind her, and he kissed her. He hooked his arm around her waist and hauled her backward, bringing them both to the center of the bed.

  Then he reached over and into the box of condoms, producing a plastic packet. “See, forward thinking. Good idea.”

  She nodded. “Yes, it was.”

  He tore it open and rolled it onto his length quickly, kissing her again as he settled over her. She parted her legs for him, the action instinctive. The blunt head of his erection pressed against the slick entrance to her body, and she knew a moment of serious anxiety. He was much bigger than she’d anticipated, and two of his fingers had hardly prepared her to take all of him.

  He tested her, and she tried to relax, tried to focus on the fact that it was Lucas.

  Lucas. Lucas. He would take care of her, at least in this way. She could be sure of that.

  He pushed inside her in one fluid movement and she bit back a cry of pain as he stretched her all at once, burying himself to the hilt.

  His dark eyes were wide, searching hers. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, the pain starting to fade. Now she felt . . . full. She’d felt so empty before, and she’d ached with it. And now, that part of her at least was satisfied. Though that need was starting again, that deep need that made her feel restless and reckless and desperate.

  He moved slowly at first, his eyes never leaving hers. “Yes, Lucas,” she breathed as his hips flexed, his pelvis hitting against her clitoris, sending a sharp, hot sweep of sensation through her.

  “You like that?” he whispered, repeating the motion.

  “Yes,” she said, the word catching as another wave of pleasure hit.

  “More?”

  “Yes.”

  And then she was lost, completely. In the rhy
thm, in the slide of his skin on hers, his heat, his strength. She slid her hands over his back, over his muscles, felt the hard ridges move beneath her fingertips, the evidence of his strength arousing her further.

  He moved his hand down to her thigh, hooked it over his hip and increased his movements. Harder. Faster.

  “Lucas,” she breathed, pleasure bursting through her, her core muscles tightening around him, her orgasm rolling over her in a slow wave, dragging her under.

  Lucas lowered his head and thrust into her one last time, a harsh groan escaping his lips as his own release rocked him.

  She clung to his shoulders, holding him to her, focusing on her body, on the buzzing, fuzzy feeling coursing through her veins like champagne. On his chest pressed against hers, his heart thundering so heavily she could feel it. On their fractured breathing.

  For the moment, she felt like she and Lucas were on the same page. Like they both felt the same things, like they’d both just walked through the same fire and come out the other side.

  It wouldn’t last. She knew that. There was no way this much harmony with Lucas could last for more than a few minutes. But it was nice.

  “Dammit, Carly,” he breathed, rolling to the side.

  The loss of his body over hers made her feel cold. Exposed.

  “What?” she asked, staring at the ceiling.

  “I’ll get back to you when I can form a more coherent though.”

  “That’s good though, right? Not having a coherent thought?”

  “For you, right now, it’s very good.” He put both hands over his face and drew them down. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “That’s a very open-ended question. Why didn’t I tell you that Pluto isn’t considered a planet anymore? Why didn’t I tell you that I can believe it’s not butter?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”

  “Oh . . . that. I forgot.”

  “You forgot?”