It’s never occurred to me that it warped my perception.
I glance in the mirror, blink, and come into focus. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I really look at my reflection. High color stains my cheekbones and my lips are full and swollen from Lukas’s kisses. Instead of dismissing my hair as mousy, I study it, seeing the streaks of gold highlighting the rich brown, the way it curves over my shoulders and flatters my features. With the makeup the woman applied earlier today, my brown eyes looked big and luminous. I assess my body, which I’ve always viewed as functional and average, and see something else. My breasts are full, my waist curves before flaring out to hips I’ve always deemed too large. But I see now how they fit my frame. How it all comes together in a pleasing way I’ve been taking for granted because I don’t look at myself much.
I take in the dress in a different way than I had in Nordstrom’s dressing room. This afternoon I’d only looked at it as a way to meet Lukas’s criteria.
Now I study how it fits me.
I admit, it looks pretty good, but it feels like Eden, not me. Next time I go shopping, I’ll pick something because it suits my tastes, and nobody else’s. Because I like it and feel good in it.
Maybe this experience will teach me about more than just sex. Maybe, by the end of this, I’ll learn who I want to be.
When I return to the table, the waiter has delivered the entrees and removed our untouched salads.
I slide into the booth, and Lukas gives me a positively smug grin, before he looks me up and down. “And?”
Okay, in the bathroom I’d had a major life-altering discovery and proof that I like everything he’s doing to me. But I can’t exactly admit it out loud. I shrug. “Maybe you have a tiny point.”
He roars with laughter and gestures to my plate. “Eat something.”
I have no idea how I can possibly eat at a time like this. Not only am I going to have sex with my fantasy guy, my entire world view has tilted, and I’ve had no time to analyze any of it. But, I pick up my fork and dutifully scoop up a piece of creamy penne and put it in my mouth.
As I chew, Lukas says, “Let’s get back to this orgasm.”
The fork falls from my hand and clatters to the plate. I choke, coughing before I manage to swallow. I thought we’d dropped that ages ago. I shoot him a scowl. “Do we have to?”
His hand slips onto my thigh and calloused fingers play over my sensitive skin. “I was thinking how I’m going to do it while you strutted your way through the restaurant.”
“I do not—” I close my eyes as his hand moves higher, “strut.”
Like he doesn’t believe me at all, he chuckles. “What’d you discover in the bathroom, Abby? Because I can assure you, me and every man in the room recognized the sway of hips as you made your way back to me.”
Despite my emotional upheaval, a low throb takes up residence low in my belly. I have no idea how he does it, but the man is a genius. I breathe out. “Nothing.”
He moves higher, pulling my legs apart. The heat from my body has to be searing his hand. He glides over my skin, coming to rest at the top of my inner thigh. Torn between wanting to pull away and thrusting into his touch, I remain still as a statue.
His palm slides back down my leg. “You clearly know what you want in bed, so I’m confused about why touching yourself didn’t make you come.”
I don’t want to talk about that now. I just want to sink into the sensation of his touch on my skin. Enjoy the unfamiliar sensation of true desire weaving a path through my body. The ache I’ve never had before.
He squeezes my thigh. “What did you think about?”
“Huh?” He moves to the top of my inner thigh again. Would it be wrong to ask him to shut up so I can concentrate?
“When you masturbated, what did you think about?”
“Umm…” He strokes over my skin. Up and down. Up and down. Over and over until I feel as though I might melt into a puddle under the table.
“Abby.” The amusement in his voice is clear. “Are you distracted?”
Of course I’m distracted. I want him to touch me. “What?”
“Do you want me to touch you?”
Unable to speak, I nod.
“Tell me.”
Tell him what? I can’t remember. A low hum starts deep in my belly as he strokes over the damp flesh of my thighs. It feels…so, so good.
His words are hot and urgent against my skin. “I want you to say it. Ask me to touch you.”
“Why?” I grip the edge of the table and my knuckles turn white.
“Because I want it, and so do you.”
If he doesn’t do something soon, I’ll burst into flames. If I say it, at least he’ll stop asking about orgasms. On a hard exhalation, I say, “Please touch me.”
“Answer my question and I will.” Another hard squeeze.
Not this again. A low, feral sound echoes on the air, and to my shock, I realize it came from me. Maybe a small admission to get him to stop talking and start acting. I shake my head. “I didn’t think about anything.”
“Hmmm…” He sounds skeptical. “I need a little more than that.”
I shift in my seat, closer to him, encouraging him. “Can’t we stop talking now?”
“I don’t think so.” He licks the curve of my neck. “Tell me, and I’ll rub your clit. I promise it’s worth it.”
Yes. That did sound delicious and he’s not going to be dissuaded, so it’s better to answer and get it over with. I clear my throat and ignore the strong fingers stroking over flesh I had no idea was sensitive. “I did some research on the Internet.”
His hand stills. “You researched it on the Internet?”
How else was I supposed to figure it out? I close my eyes. “Yes. And I did everything they said, but it didn’t work.”
“Why do you think it didn’t work?”
Get it over with. I let out a tiny moan, then continue. “I don’t know. I’d lie there, and try, but I’d get frustrated because I couldn’t figure out if I was doing it right. And then I’d start thinking about things I needed to do at work the next day, or what I forgot to put on my grocery list and before I knew it, I’d lost interest.”
“Ah, now it’s starting to make sense. It’s hard to turn off your brain.”
I nod.
“You think your brain’s shut off now, Abby?” His voice is low and sinful. Before I can answer, his hand covers my mound. A low groan sounds from deep in his throat. “Considering how wet you are, I’d say we’re well on the way.”
His fingers travel without resistance along my slick, swollen skin. Oh my god, I’m practically dripping into his palm. Sensations tingle through me and I gasp, “I’m sorry.”
“There is nothing to be sorry about.” In a slow, steady circle, he begins to rub.
My muscles clench.
“You forgot the most important part of touching yourself.”
Nothing I’d experienced before either with men or myself had felt like this, like a spring coiling tighter and tighter inside me. He seems to know something important, so I manage to ask, “What’s that?”
“You forgot the fantasy. The seduction.” He keeps up a smooth rhythm and I put my head in my hands, shutting my eyes to block out the restaurant and concentrate on the pleasure. Yes, that’s better. It makes the coil sharper, easier to focus on. He picks up his pace and, unable to help myself, I rock into his hand, a tiny moan escaping my lips.
What is he doing? It’s so…so…good. Awesome.
“Feels good, doesn’t it, Abby?”
“Oh god yes.”
“Right here, right now, is why you have domination fantasies. Because it doesn’t matter what your brain tells you.” His fingers sink inside my pussy.
I shudder. The spring coils ever tighter until it’s all I can think about. Along my neck, his hot, ragged breath warms my already overheated skin. “You’re not going to be able to think your way out of this, little girl. You’re going to come for me
tonight.”
All coherent thought scrambles as his fingers begin to pump. Harder. Faster.
I bite my lip to keep from crying out.
“So hot and tight. You’re going to be a screamer. You’re already fighting to keep quiet, and I’ve barely started.” His low, hoarse voice sends shivers down my back.
Something hovers, right out of my grasp. Something I need. My inner muscles cling to his fingers as he pulls out, leaving me feeling empty and wanting. He needs to come back. I moan. “No, don’t stop.”
In response, he places two fingers on either side of my clit and squeezes up and down over my soaking-wet flesh. Intense pleasure blasts through me, making me dizzy. My mind blanks. The invisible spring tightens to the point of breaking.
He growls in my ear. “I can’t wait to sink into this hot, wet cunt.”
“Oh god.” I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I can’t stop. Not when I’m so close to something so powerful. My fingers tighten on the table and I clench my jaw. What’s he doing to me? It’s almost unbearable. He squeezes tighter. I moan, hips jerking up.
“Abby.” My name sounds harsh on his lips.
My head snaps up to look at him.
On a ragged intake of breath, his hand stills. I want to scream— Don’t stop!— but the way he’s studying me, his eyes intense and searching, halts me.
He glances at my lips before meeting my gaze. “Is this the way you want your first orgasm? ’Cause you’re about thirty seconds away from exploding all over my hand.”
In confusion, I can only stare at him, it had been right there.
“This is your show, Abby. I’m happy to make you come all over town, but I want to make sure you want the first time to be in the middle of a restaurant.” He kisses me lightly. “Say the word and I’ll make it happen. Your call.”
I blink, coming back from all that good lust. Now that the torment of pleasure has abated, my heart swells with gratitude. I can’t believe he stopped like that, for me, to make sure this is what I want. In the heat of the moment, I’d been all in, but now I know that’s not right for me. At least not yet. “No. I want private. Thank you, Lukas.”
“That’s what I thought.” His hand slips from under my dress and he smooths the fabric back into place. He smiles. “Besides, I want you someplace you can scream. I think you’ve been restrained enough for one lifetime, don’t you?”
6
Lukas
I fumble with my keys as I attempt for the third time to unlock my front door.
I need to take a deep breath and slow the fuck down.
The key finally slides into the lock and it clicks open. Relief mixed with anticipation floods through me. I grab Abby’s hand and pull her roughly into the foyer, causing her to stumble next to me.
Slow down.
I’ve got to chill out or this is going to be a disaster for her and I can’t have that. I have no idea how she’s getting to me so thoroughly, but I stopped questioning it the second I started playing with her wet cunt. I run my fingers through my hair. She nearly drove me crazy in the restaurant. She’d been so hot and needy and desperate. And wet, so, so wet. The essence of her had seeped into my skin somehow, making me stupid and rash. I’d hoped the car ride to the house would have cooled me down. But no such luck. I’m desperate to get in her.
I take another deep breath.
I need to get a grip so I can do right by her. This isn’t about me, or my pleasure, it’s about her. I need to provide her with an experience she’ll never forget. Coming all over her is a happy byproduct.
Control shaky at best, I turn to face her. “You ready, Abby?”
She nods, and sucks in a stuttering little breath while her gaze darts around the room. The thinking has probably started again, but I can put an end to that. I wrap a hand around her neck and let my thumb trail over her bottom lip. She has the softest mouth. I lean down, capturing her, kissing her slow and deep. I mean to put her at ease, but the second my lips settle on hers, she plasters herself along the length of me.
Good intentions and reason fly out the window.
On a low growl, I back her up until she hits the foyer table. With no preamble, I yank her dress over her thighs and set her bare assed on the tabletop. She lets out a small gasp and I wrench the stretchy fabric of her dress—that has taunted me all night—down her shoulders to her elbows, exposing her breasts.
Before I can get a good look at her, she wraps those killer legs around my waist and squeezes, drawing me closer. Breath ragged, she clutches my waist and arches her hips. On a moan she writhes under me.
She’s a natural. And she’s driving me crazy with all her unrestrained lust.
Devouring her, unable to help myself, I grind my erection against her clit.
Jesus, I have to slow down. This is not the plan.
My intention was to take her upstairs, strip her naked and lay her out on my king-size bed before making her mindless with passion. I’d planned on teasing her, drawing out her pleasure until she couldn’t stand it any longer.
Since she showed up at my house last night, nothing has gone according to my plans and I can see fucking her isn’t going to be any different. But I’m sure as hell going to make it memorable.
Releasing her mouth, I draw in a harsh breath, peering down at her. I cover her black lacy demi-cut bra, my fingers running along the smooth flesh spilling over the cups. I trace the seam, resting on the clasp for a fraction of a second before flicking it open. Peeling away the fabric, I groan at the most fantastic set of breasts I’ve ever seen.
I want to fall to my knees and worship them. Awed, I can only shake my head. “My god.”
I run my fingertips over her puckered nipples, and her back bows. I roll them between my thumb and forefinger, watching the play of emotions across her face—lust, surprise, pleasure.
“Oh.” Her whisper is full of wonder.
She definitely likes that, so I repeat the motion with a little more force, and she rewards me by bucking against my straining erection. “You’re gorgeous.”
Her eyes fly open, and a small furrow mars her brow. “No.”
“Yes you are.” I pinch her nipples, tugging.
Her lashes flutter closed and her head drops back. “Let’s not talk.”
There’s that insistence again, and I tuck it away for later, because now is not the time. I increase both tempo and pressure, until her neck arches. Sweat breaks out across my skin as she places her hands in back of her on the table, forcing her breasts to thrust into my hands.
“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” She’s greedy now.
All this eager, abandoned responsiveness is enough to drive me well past the edge of control, but I’m not giving up yet. I squeeze the hard buds and hold. “I can see I’m going to need these perfect tits on display all the time so I can play with them whenever I want.”
In response, she grinds her pussy along my shaft. By her expression, the fabric of my pants must be working magic on her overheated flesh because she really rolls into me now.
I grit my teeth as my grasp of coherent thought continues to fray. “Understood?”
When she doesn’t answer, I release one nipple, yank her hips to the edge of the end table and smack her ass. “Understood?”
Eyes squeezed tight, she gasps. “Do that again, please.”
Holy shit, I’m done.
The muscles in my jaw work as I fight the urge to shove my cock into her wet cunt. I squeeze her nipple at the base before pulling up to the tip, repeating the stroke as I slap the top curve of one firm cheek.
“Yes,” she murmurs, face flush, lips open.
Blood races through my veins as my pulse hammers.
I find myself praying for restraint.
Over and over, in synchronized movements, I spank and pull and pinch, until I’m panting as hard as she is, every muscle taut from the effort.
Head falling against my shoulder, she mindlessly whispers, “More.”
In re
sponse to her breathy cries, my balls tighten. Cock aching, I drip pre-cum. I need to maintain control. Jaw tight, I stop, staring past her at my gray wall.
She gasps and shudders against me. “Don’t stop.”
Counting to five to compose myself, I rub her back. “Shhhh, you’ll like this. You are going to come, Abby, right here, right now.”
She nods, and my chest gives a little squeeze at her trust. I’m going to make this good for her. I’m going to give her exactly what she wants, and I’m not going to stop until she’s boneless. I push her back so she rests against the wall.
I dip into my pocket and pull out a couple of condoms, tossing them on the table next to her thigh, before stripping my shirt over my head. She watches, licking her lips like a hungry little cat as I unbuckle my pants and release my cock.
She lets out a soft whimper.
I grit my teeth, grasping the leaking head between my thumb and forefinger, to suppress the need to come.
It doesn’t do much good, but it’s something.
I slide my hand along her wet pussy, clenching my jaw as she jerks into my palm. I spread her open, stepping between her legs and encircling her waist. Face flushed, she peers up at me, trusting and open. Beautiful. I glide my cock along her clit, tugging her hips until she’s flush against me, able to feel every stroke.
Lashes flutter closed, her head drops back against the wall, and she gets lost in her own little world. Needing her to pay attention, I grip her neck, lifting her so we’re eye level. “Abby.”
Her lids snap open and confusion flashes across her face. “What’s wrong?”
“I want you to squeeze those gorgeous thighs around my waist, and rub that wet pussy along my cock.”
“But…but…aren’t you going to…” Her voice trails off.
“Oh, I’m going to fuck you. But not yet.”
She blinks, nibbling on her full lower lip. She tries to shift, but I hold her so tight she ends up stroking the hard bundle of nerves along the underside of my cock.
The pleasure is so intense I wince.
“Oh!” Her eyes go wide as the light of comprehension dawns.
The Burn List Page 6