Flesh: Part Eight (The Flesh Series Book 8)

by Corgan, Sky

  "You're right," he admits, to my surprise. "I don't know you very well, but I do feel like I know things about you."

  "Like what?" I huff.

  "You're sweet. You're dedicated. You wouldn't have put up with me for this long if you weren't," he lets out a short laugh.

  "I'm dedicated to my job," I correct him, hoping he'll take it as a slight.

  "That's what I meant. You want that contract so badly," there's a touch of mocking in his tone.

  "It is important to me. Not just me, but my company."

  "I know. I don't want to talk about that right now though. And I wish it wasn't even a factor in what we have going on."

  I wish it wasn't too. Then it would have been easier to walk away from him a long time ago. Having to see him on an almost daily basis makes things so much more complicated. My attraction to him is almost palpable. His gorgeous blue eyes, his chiseled body, the way that he takes what he wants with no regrets. He's amazing in bed. Passionate, dominant. I hate that I've allowed my lust to get in the way of my logic, that I've let it pervert a relationship that should be strictly business. Everything is a mess because I allowed things to go too far. You can't take back the past though. You just have to deal with the consequences of your mistakes.

  "There's nothing going on between us, Lucian," I say weakly.

  "You never let me finish telling you what I think about you." He doesn't even seem phased by my rejection.

  "I'm not interested in what you think of me." It's a lie. A bold-faced lie. I'm not even sure if I sound convincing. I desperately want to know what he thinks of me, but I'm so afraid he'll tell me something that will make me drop my guard, and I don't want that.

  "You're sweet." He ignores me again. "You're shy. You're beautiful." I feel his hand on my thigh. When I try to brush it off, he doesn't budge. Instead he just gives it a gentle squeeze, drawing my attention up to this face. "You're beautiful, Amy," he repeats. "You don't believe it, for whatever reason. Maybe men haven't treated you as good as they should have in the past. Maybe you don't have any sense of your own self-worth, but you're beautiful, both on the inside and the outside."

  My eyes begin to water as I stare at him. His words are so earnest. They don't sound like lines at all. He's making me think that he truly believes what he's saying to me. I do think that he truly believes it.

  "Lucian," I practically mewl, pulling out of his grasp and standing to make my way toward the door. "I've got to go."

  His arms are wrapped around me in an instant. I'm his prisoner again, but things feel different this time. He's holding me from behind, hugging me, his face nuzzled against my hair.

  "Please don't go, Amy. Please don't leave me. Not tonight," there's such a desperation in his tone that I feel my resolve cracking. Walls are crumbling inside of me. I wrap my fingers around his hand to pry it off of me, but instead I just clutch his hand, holding it against me.

  “Please, Lucian.” Please what? I think I'm begging him to let me go, but I'm not even sure anymore.

  “You're afraid of me. Of this. And that's okay because I'm scared too.”

  He releases his grip on me, and instead of continuing towards the door, I turn around. Biggest. Mistake. Ever.

  It's like a bomb was thrown at my protective walls. The way he's looking at me, with such an intensity. Not lust but something else. Adoration. Need. Honesty.

  I let out a pathetic little gasp as he draws me closer, my soft body pressing into a wall of hard muscle. As a last line of defense, I drop my gaze. It lands on his parted lips, and I feel a familiar hunger building inside of me, pooling between my legs.

  He tilts his head ever so slightly—as if he's unsure if it's okay to kiss me—as if he's silently asking for permission. Tears spill down my cheeks, my body trembling as I close my eyes and just give in. His lips meet mine, firm but gentle at the same time. There's no desperation in the way that he kisses me, no urgency to strip me down and fuck me raw before I try to run away.

  I slide my hands up the front of his body. They're meant to act as a barrier between us, a way for me to separate us enough so that I can come back to my senses. But as soon as I feel my fingers slide over his rippling flesh, I'm lost.

  I deepen the kiss. Not him. Me. I seek entry into his mouth. I wrap my arms around him and draw him closer, and he does the same, embracing me while our mouths move together. Kissing and caressing. He feels and smells so good. Tastes amazing. I'm drunk with affection from his sweet words. I want to make all of his pain go away. I don't ever want him to hurt again.

  I'm falling. Oh so hard. My greatest fear is finally realized.

  I'm falling in love with Lucian Reddick.

  CHAPTER TWO

  You're afraid of me. Of this. And that's okay because I'm scared too.

  I'm desperately afraid. Afraid of falling for the wrong man. Afraid of being hurt again. He has hurt me so much. He's capable of hurting me a lot more. I know this, but after hearing about his wife and child and all of those beautiful confessions, I'm willing to take the chance. I'm willing to give whatever this is a chance.

  He kisses my neck softly as he unbuttons the front of my blouse, and I crane my head back, moaning softly, thinking about how I thought I would never feel his sweet lips on me again. Yet here we are. It only took a matter of minutes for him to destroy my resolve completely. I hate that he's capable of that. It makes me feel like a failure. I don't want to think about that right now though. I just want to think about him—about being with him like this.

  His fingertips brush my shoulder as he pushes my shirt down over my arms. I try to wiggle free from it, but then his palms wrap around the sleeves of my shirt, and he uses it to pull my arms back. Immediately, I'm reminded of his obsession with control. When I look up at him, his eyes are dark. All of those wonderful things I thought I saw before are still there, but there's a hint of familiarity. I know that his mind is drifting to dominant places. He can't just love me like a normal man would. He has to own me.

  “Lucian,” I whisper only seconds before his mouth crashes down onto mine.

  The romantic part of him goes away, and the carnal part comes out to play. While I enjoy that part of him, it's not what I need right now to feel connected to him. I'm worried that I might lose him to the side of him that's consumed by lust.

  I pull away from the kiss, turning my head, and he seizes the opportunity to kiss down my neck instead. He lets go of the sides of my shirt, allowing his hands to slip to my waist and draw me against him again.

  Lucian threads his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling my head back further, almost painfully so, to give him more leverage. His kisses are rough, deep and biting. I wince when he clips my skin with his teeth, cry out when he sucks a little too hard.

  “Lucian,” I say his name again, trying to remove the needy sound from it. He looks at me, his breath already a bit ragged. “Not so hard.”

  “I thought you liked it hard.”

  “I do, but not all the time.” I smile shyly. “A girl likes a bit of romance.”

  “Romance?” He arches an eyebrow.

  “Yes. Romance.” I lightly claw down his chest, causing him to visibly shiver. When I glance down between us, I can see that his cock is straining against his pants.

  “I haven't done romance in a very long time.” He presses his forehead against mine.

  “Not since her, I bet.” I nod towards one of the pictures. It feels like I'm purposely trying to sabotage the mood, like there's still a thread of uncertainty inside of me that wants to steer us away from sex. This wasn't supposed to happen tonight. I was supposed to walk away, to never want him again.

  “No. Not since her.” He draws his tongue across his bottom lip.

  “You know, we don't have to do this tonight. We can just talk.” I make lazy circles with my fingertip over his heart.

  “Talk. Is that really what you want to do?” I can hear the grin in his voice. “I think I've talked enough for the both of u
s already.” He takes a step forward, even though there's barely enough space for it.

  When he dips to kiss my neck, I know that talking isn't at all what's on his mind. Why should I have expected anything different? This is who he is. All sex. Well, mostly sex. To say he's all about sex wouldn't be quite fair. But close enough.

  His hands roam my curves. He gives a small tug to the back of my shirt and slips it off the rest of the way. Apparently, he has taken my words to heart because some of the heat has died down from his actions.

  His kisses are gentle, trailing down my neck and over my shoulder. He entwines his fingers with my bra straps and pulls them down a little, as if he can't stand not to kiss that small strip of skin that they cover. My hands begin to move down his sides, lower and lower, each hard line of muscle working like a wire connecting us, sending electricity straight to my core.

  His mouth finds the slope of my breasts. He wraps his arms around me and buries his face between them, which makes me blush madly.

  When his hands slip behind me to begin unfastening my bra, I wiggle my fingers down the front of his pants, using the V of his hips as an entry point. I tug at his pants lazily, trying to figure out how to get them off when he's so all over me.

  “You're not wearing underwear,” I mumble.

  “Does that bother you?” He pulls my bra forward and slides it down over my shoulders before tossing it aside.

  “There's not much for me to unwrap.” I smirk.

  He rubs my back gently, resting his head on my shoulder. “It's not like you haven't seen it all before.”

  “I suppose not.” I press my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

  His body tenses for a moment. “So what are you going to tell your boyfriend?”

  I'm surprised he'd even bring it up. And for a moment, I think that he purposely did so that he could try to scare me away, much like he tried to do in the limo after we left Fleshfest. That happened after we had sex though. It doesn't make sense to me that he wouldn't try to get what he wanted first.

  I pull away from him a bit. In truth, I feel horrible about doing this to Derrick. We're not actually dating, but he's going to be so pissed. He'll tell me that I should have been smarter than to fall for Lucian's bullshit again. Is it bullshit though?

  My eyes wander over Lucian's face. He looks incredibly serious, completely pulled out of the moment, as if the answer actually matters to him.

  I take a deep breath and then exhale, embarrassed that I went so far as to lie to try to get him to leave me alone. “There is no boyfriend.” I lay my palm flat against his chest, staring at my fingers, unable to look at him. I don't even want to imagine his expression. More than likely, it's mocking or amused or something else that will make me feel terrible.

  “I'm glad.” He kisses me on the forehead before drawing me into his arms again.

  I blink a couple of times in disbelief. He actually sounds relieved. It only makes my magnetism towards him grow stronger.

  “Would you have stopped if I really was dating Derrick?” I ask apprehensively.

  “I suppose you'll never know, now will you?” There's the smile I had expected, but since it came after the fact, I'm not so upset with him about it.

  “You're kind of a jerk.” I tap his chest before pulling away from him and turning around.

  “I'm very aware of that.” He follows, sliding an arm around my waist and another across my chest to draw me back against him. His lips are on my neck in an instant, his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I can feel his dick pressing hard against my ass, and my clit pulses in approval. I want it inside of me. I won't be leaving here tonight until I've felt him inside of me. I know that without a doubt now.

  The hand that was clutching me around the waist moves down to find the zipper of my skirt. All the while, Lucian's mouth never leaves me. I moan softly as he kisses me and undresses me at the same time. He's very talented at multitasking, I think with a mischievous grin playing across my face.

  Once my skirt hits the floor, I step out of it and then turn to face him again. I expect him to take me into his arms, to kiss me like he means everything that's happened in the last several minutes, but instead, he immediately grabs the sides of my underwear and kneels in front of me as he pulls it down ever so slowly.

  My self-consciousness gets the better of me—probably because he's eye level with my chubby stomach—and I use my hands to cover myself as best I can, placing one across my stomach and the other over my mound, even though I know he's going to gripe at me for it. He gazes up at me from the floor, and my mind flips to an insane place. It looks like he's about to propose. That's definitely not going to happen though. Wishful thinking that's completely misplaced.

  As expected, he reaches up to move my hands away. I screw my face as I give resistance, my anxiety rising.

  “Amy,” his voice is deep and warning.

  “You're way too close to my stomach,” I grumble.

  “I love your stomach.” He kisses the back of my fingers since I refuse to move them. “I love every part of you.”

  Love is such a strong word. I wonder if he even realizes what he's saying.

  “Well, I don't. And I'd prefer if you didn't look at me like that.” I close my eyes so that I don't have to see him being exposed to all of my flaws.

  He stands finally, surrendering to the fact that I'm not giving in. Even though he's seen my body in its pudgy glory multiple times already, there's always a little voice in the back of my mind telling me that he hates what he sees and that I'm not good enough.

  “Come here.” He slides a hand around my waist, gazing down at me, his dark hair falling in front of his eyes and making him look super sexy.

  “I'm sorry,” I mutter.

  “It's fine.” He walks me backwards towards the bed. “We're just going to have to do something I know you like, then.”

  “I like a lot of things.” Just not you staring at my jelly rolls.

  “I know you do.” He picks me up and sets me on the bed in one fluid motion, causing me to gasp in surprise.

  “I hate it when you do that.” I furrow my brow though I'm not really angry.

  “Why?” He kneels between my legs, a gorgeous smile splitting his lips and showing rows of perfectly white teeth, teeth that are very prone to biting. Just thinking about it makes my cheeks grow warm. That, and the fact that he's tummy level with me again. And even worse, that I'm sitting down now, so my stomach is definitely rolling.

  “Eyes up here.” I put two fingers under his chin, keeping his attention fixed on my face.

  He only honors my wishes for a split second though. I cringe as he places his hands on my legs, spreading them a bit wider before he leans down to kiss my inner thigh. I might actually enjoy it if I wasn't so self-conscious. Desperate to try to find some middle ground, I decide to lay back on the bed. Not only will it make my stomach look flatter, but I won't have to see what he's doing.

  I expect him to protest, but he doesn't. Instead, he runs the blade of his tongue up my inner thigh, reaching the V between my legs before kissing a path back down. I exhale deeply, not even realizing that I was holding my breath on his ascent. My core throbs needily, wanting his mouth there, knowing that it won't be long before he finds that tiny spot that drives me wild.

  “Hook your legs around my shoulders,” Lucian tells me.

  I strain to look at him as I do what I'm told, not wanting to accidentally hurt him. Once my legs are on his shoulders, I try to hook my feet around his neck, accidentally drawing him closer to my sex.

  “Someone is eager,” he teases.

  “Sorry.” I cover my face with both hands, utterly mortified.

  “Don't be.”

  Before I even have a chance to recover, I feel his tongue slicking around my cleft. I gasp and buck my hips, the muscles in my legs tensing, pulling his face even closer to my pussy. I think to apologize again, but when I open my mouth, the only thing that comes out is
a long moan as he wraps his lips around my sensitive bud and sucks until tiny contractions spring to the surface, threatening to dropkick me right over the edge of my first orgasm.

  “Lucian,” I cry out his name, resting my head back against the comforter. My hands move to grope my tits, my fingers closing around already perked nipples to give just that little bit of added stimulation I need to have an incredible climax.

  Lucian peeks over my mound. “I think you were more ready for this than you let on.”

  “Don't stop,” I breathe, barely able to concentrate on anything other than the receding pleasure from the withdrawal of his mouth.

  “You always taste so good down here.” He slips his hand between my legs and makes lazy circles around my clit with his index finger.

  “You're such a tease,” I grumble, feeling like I'm about to pitch a fit if he doesn't continue.

  “You like it.” He trails the finger down to my slit, softly probing at the surface.

  “It drives me crazy.” I dramatically turn my head to the other side, my hair flipping and landing on my face. My body is all pent-up sexual frustration. I feel unbelievable wet and wanton and on the verge of pouncing on him. Why does he have to move so tortuously slow?

  The heat of his breath wafts across my folds, making me shiver. I feel the rough flat of his tongue make a slow sweep across my clit, his finger probing a bit deeper. I whimper in horny discontent, the heat between my legs almost searing, the throbbing need almost unbearable.

  “Lucian, please.”

  “Please what?” His lips close around my core and his tongue lashes out to flick across it, driving me back up again. At the same time, he jams his finger into me, followed by a second. My back arches and one of my hands flies into his hair, not caring how pathetically desperate I'm acting. I need to come. Now. No more playing. “Oh God!”

  He lets up again, and I think I might scream. It takes everything in me not to grab him by the hair and shove his face back down between my legs. His fingers still inside of me and I clamp my pussy around them, hoping it will somehow motivate him to...do something.