Luke's Absolution (The Colloway Brothers #3)

by K. L. Kreig

  He laughs loudly. Taking the bottle from my hands, his fingers purposely graze mine. Heat shoots up my arm and down to my core, joining the campfire below. “Your loss, fireball.”

  “Don’t I know it,” I mumble, turning to leave. “Don’t I know it.”

  ______________

  It’s 3:32 a.m. and the red digits on my clock mock me. Insomnia at its finest right here. I dozed off early yet have been lying awake for over an hour now, tossing and turning, unable to get the real-life porno shower scene I witnessed just mere hours ago out of my head. It’s running on a continuous, torturous loop.

  The first thing I did when I locked myself back in my room, like the chickenshit I am, was to strip off my embarrassingly wet underwear.

  Okay, fine. So that wasn’t the first thing I did, but it was the second because they were even wetter after the first…thing. No amount of self-pleasure has helped; my body still aches for something I’ve been stupidly denying myself.

  Luke.

  Finally, I give up and slide out of bed in a huff. Pulling on a light blue tank over navy lace panties, I quietly open my door. The apartment is dark, except for the blue rays from the full moon shining through the blinds. I easily find my way to the kitchen, not needing any additional light.

  Opening a cupboard, I grab a glass and turn to the fridge to pour myself some milk. I take a sip and, deciding it’s not cold enough, pull on the freezer door to grab a few ice cubes, plopping them into my cream. I stare for a moment at the Bomb Pops I saw earlier this week. I haven’t had one since I was probably fourteen and yet here Luke is…enjoying them as a thirty-year-old man. Just another mystery that is Luke.

  I lean my back against the fridge and sigh. Closing my eyes, thoughts of popsicles vanish. I once again replay the sight of Luke stroking himself to completion as hot water jetted over his perfectly formed physique. My chest constricts as I remember the throaty, purely male sounds he made when he neared his climax. Till the day I die, I won’t ever forget how he threw his head back in utter euphoria as he released, groaning as if almost in pain. My entire body vibrated with need. It still does.

  “Can’t sleep, fireball?”

  I’m so lost in my salacious memory, it takes me a second to register that the soft sound of Luke talking is actually real and not just in my mind. His presence startles me so much I gasp and drop the cup I was holding. Milk and shards of broken glass scatter everywhere on the linoleum floor.

  “Shit,” I mutter. I take a small step and wince loudly at the pain that stabs my sole.

  “Fuck, stay still,” he hisses as he rushes to me from the darkness. When he rounds the corner I notice two things.

  First, apparently he was out here when I walked in because I see a barely eaten Bomb Pop in his hand, frost still coating the bottom layer.

  Second, he’s utterly mouthwatering in his dark grey boxer briefs, which are not doing a damn thing to hide his very rigid package. God have mercy. I cannot pull my eyes away from the cock I’ve just been caught fantasizing about.

  I can hardly concentrate on anything other than the intense throbbing between my legs as he sets his popsicle down on the counter and starts toward me. I hold out my hand trying to stop him from coming closer. If he touches me right now, I’m a total goner. At this moment, he’ll be able to get me to do anything he wants. Anything. “Luke, no. You’ll get hurt.”

  “Steel’s impenetrable, baby.” He continues forward, heedless of my protests and regardless of the fact his feet are as bare as mine. He steps carefully, avoiding the largest pieces of glass and grabs me firmly by the waist, lifting me effortlessly as if I were a sack of flour. After depositing me on the counter, he hands me his frosty treat. “For safekeeping. This is one of my favorite sweets in the world. Don’t you dare lick it, fireball,” he says with a wink and a mischievous grin.

  I don’t know about you, but when somebody tells me not to do something, yeah…makes me want to do it all the more, so while I watch him walk to the hall closet, retrieve the broom, and begin to clean up the mess, I lick away.

  I slurp.

  I suck.

  I make a big production out of eating his red, white, and blue popsicle, laughing the entire time as his gaze continually slides to me, a slight smirk upturning his lips. He turned on the overhead light when he got the broom, so there is absolutely no mistaking the heat in his eyes burns hotter each time they connect with mine. And definitely not in anger.

  A few minutes later, he dumps the broken remnants of the glass in the garbage can, along with the milk-soaked paper towels. Leaning the broom against the wall and the dustpan on the floor, he turns, and the second his predatory gaze lands on mine, my laughter dies.

  Uh oh.

  When I was a kid, the thing I loved about Bomb Pops, as opposed to other popsicles, is that they’re big. They’re a good thick inch of tasty girthiness, so they take a while to eat if you know how to savor them instead of biting your way through. So although I’ve been eating Luke’s frozen treat for the last few minutes, there is still plenty left for him.

  I think at this point I should also confess when I was fifteen, my girlfriends and I used to practice our bj skills on Bomb Pops before we ever practiced on a real penis. And, for the last five minutes, I may have been reenacting my teenage days, except my skills are far more honed and refined now with “real-life” experience.

  “You’re awfully good at that, fireball,” he husks, his eyes dropping to my mouth as I slide the melting delicacy out from between my probably now blue-stained lips. His voice sounds like it’s been steeped in sex, then double dipped in raw decadence.

  “That I am,” I reply just as hoarsely. I don’t even recognize my voice it’s dropped so many octaves.

  He’s now standing between my legs, having wedged them apart with his hips. His hand winds around mine, the one with the popsicle, and brings it to his own mouth, smoldering eyes holding mine as he draws it slowly between his lips, tongue snaking out to catch the melting ice.

  Oh God.

  Air. I need it.

  He pulls it out just as unhurriedly and sets it on the counter beside me. “You didn’t follow directions, Addy.”

  He runs a hand slowly down my leg, goose bumps following his touch like starstuck groupies. Grabbing my injured foot he draws it back to take a look, gently extracting the protruding piece of glass stuck in my tender skin. Leaning over, he throws it into the trash and I hear a ping as it hits the other shards.

  “What can I say? I’m a born rule breaker,” I tease breathlessly. I try to laugh, but it comes out strangled.

  I’m momentarily dazed when his tongue darts out, licking the injured spot that now mildly throbs. Oh, fuck. “Rule breakers usually need punishment to understand the err of their ways,” he purrs between wet kisses up my arch to my ankle.

  “You think?” I’m panting now. Actually panting with excitement and hunger.

  “Abso-fucking-lutely,” he mutters roughly, continuing his hot assault up my inner thigh to almost the edge of my panties. One slight turn of his head and he’ll be in the Promised Land.

  Turn, turn, turn, I silently beg.

  I almost cry out when he does, his nose nudging my silk-covered sex. I hear him inhale before he stands up. He gently releases my leg, trailing his large hands up my bare thighs. The groupies are back, except this time they’re all over in hot anticipation to get closer to the sex god standing in front of us.

  My eyelids are as heavy as my head. “Luke…” His name is a hoarse plea, but I’m not sure if I’m begging him to stop or continue. My breath hitches when his thumbs reach the edges of my panties, his thick hands wrapped tightly around my hips, kneading my flesh.

  “Stop thinking, Addy. Let go. I promise I’ll catch you.”

  “Oh God,” I choke as his lithe digits tunnel under the scrappy fabric. My head falls and my eyes squeeze shut when I feel the rough pads feather too lightly along my soaked, bare nether lips.

  My heart is pounding s
o fast, had he not hummed the words directly in my ear, I’m not sure I would have heard. “Surrender to me, Addy. I’ve got you.” Hot lips suck ravenously and at a maddeningly slow pace down my throat, which I’ve tilted under his sensual onslaught.

  My heart and body are on the same page, and for the last couple of weeks, the two have been ganging up against my stubborn will. They’ve finally just won. The last of my resolve withers away like wilted lettuce under his touch, his lips and his rough, but heartfelt demands. I can no longer deny what I’m feeling for this man. I no longer want to.

  “Luke, please.”

  My hips begin moving, trying to get what I now so desperately need, but the quick squeeze of his hands stops me, holding me still. With great effort, I pry open my lids to see him staring at me with the same look he had the last time we made love.

  Awe. Pure and utter reverence.

  My heart liquefies.

  Then my face is in his hands and that determination I saw when he told me he’d fight for me is back in full force. “I want this. Us. Jesus, I’m…stop fighting it, me. Tell me you’ll give us a chance.”

  I nod and feel him marginally relax.

  “No more denying this. Say it.”

  “No more denying.”

  “No more dancing.”

  I shake my head. “I’m a terrible dancer.”

  A corner of his mouth briefly turns up. “Yes. You are.”

  His molten eyes search mine. He struggles for a few seconds to speak and it doesn’t take me long to understand why. Being openly vulnerable is like flaying your own skin. “I—God, I’ve never felt like this before, Addy. About anyone.” And I get what he’s telling me. I also didn’t realize I needed to hear it.

  “Me either,” I confess softly, raising my hand to stroke his jaw. Then I add, “Don’t hurt me, Luke. Please.”

  His mouth drops to mine, branding it in a hot, passionate kiss. “Only in ways that feel good, baby.”

  Grabbing the hem of my top, he draws it over my head. His gaze snaps to my breasts, which are full and needy, aching for the suction of his mouth, the bite of his teeth. Lifting his smoky eyes back to mine, he stays silent as he hooks his fingers in my panties and pulls them down my legs, leaving me physically bare and emotionally vulnerable.

  Taking my hands, which are wrapped tightly around the edge of the counter, he sets them behind me, so it appears that I’m casually leaning back like I’m lying out, worshipping the sun instead of about to be worshipped by him. Then he pulls on my hips until my ass is barely balancing on the ledge. I have to lean back farther to keep from falling off. Finally, Luke spreads my legs so far apart, I’m quite sure I look obscene from his angle, all splayed open for his searing perusal.

  “Don’t move, Addy. A single muscle or I promise you I’ll make it so you can’t.” The lust that thickens his voice to the point it’s gruff and husky sends hot sparks thundering through my blood. When he leans down and latches onto a pebbled nipple, sucking hard, I gasp at the pleasure and let my head fall back. My arms wobble and he winds one of his behind my back for support. I hope that doesn’t count as moving a muscle. Or maybe I do. The thought of being tied up and completely at his mercy is exhilarating.

  I suck in a sharp breath when I feel biting cold against my neglected nipple, a complete contrast to the heat currently wrapped around the other. I whip my head up to see Luke’s grabbed the popsicle and is circling my areola. Cold, flavored water now runs in rivers down my breast and stomach. Luke’s lips quickly travel over to the hardened nub and it takes only seconds for it to warm under his attention, the fiery sensation waning.

  “Fuck, you taste good, baby,” he murmurs against my sticky flesh, his tongue lapping at me like a cat. “Been dying for it.”

  He stands, the frozen treat still in hand. Delight dances in his hazel depths as he brings it to the other nipple. Repeating his earlier actions he ignores my breathy protests, except this time, he doesn’t lean down to lick it off. He lets the syrupy goodness drip as he takes his time coating both of my breasts before running a path straight to my center.

  When he reaches my open slit, he pauses, eyes snaring mine, daring me stop him. Daring me to move. Daring me to say no.

  Daring.

  “You wouldn’t,” I whisper, unsure if I want him to continue or stop. Continue. Definitely continue.

  “Oh, but I would. This is number twenty-two on the bucket list, fireball,” he hums. I almost laugh until he slowly pushes the ice cold frozen dessert into my hot, aching sex.

  “Luke, fuck…” My hips buck, my mouth falling open in a silent scream.

  “Don’t. Fucking. Move,” he growls, desire punctuating each syllable. He holds me firmly in place with one hand as he continues his merciless assault on my tender tissues. “So goddamn sexy,” he mumbles.

  “Ahhhh,” I cry out when he pushes deeper. I’ve never felt sensations like the ones currently battering my core. Fire. Ice. Burning in my very center from the inside out. I want to escape and I never want him to stop. I feel unbelievably sexy and hedonistic as cool, melted water drips, pooling under my ass.

  Then he’s withdrawing it and the worst of the fiery feeling abates, coolness lingering in its place.

  “Addy, look at me,” he grates roughly.

  My eyes flutter open.

  “You’re fire everywhere, sweetheart,” he tells me before putting what’s left of the Bomb Pop in his mouth and sucking. He closes his eyes briefly in pure rapture.

  Fuck. That. Is. Hot.

  “I’ll never eat another one of these again without thinking about your pussy. In fact, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat another one of these again without taking a little dip first because this is the best fucking Bomb Pop I have ever tasted.”

  “God,” I breathe. I’ll never again be able to walk by the freezer aisle without my thighs clenching. Ever.

  “I need to hear you moan. Scream. Writhe in pleasure under my tongue.” He abandons the sliver of ice left on the stick and swoops down, his cool tongue meeting my still cool core, licking from bottom to top. Two fingers enter me on a hard thrust as suction on my clit has me shattering into a million brilliant pieces within seconds.

  “Again,” he demands against my now sensitive sex.

  Now Luke takes his time. He circles my clit slowly, then flicks fast, ending with a tiny bite before starting all over again. His fingers push in and out on a quicker pace, setting a perfect rhythm like he’s in time with a metronome.

  Circle.

  Flick.

  Bite.

  Again and again, until I’m splintering in two as I ride the wave of pure heat running through my veins. I burst free and float. I feel the flip to gravity switch off and I’m hovering aimlessly in space, never wanting to return to earth.

  “You back, baby?” he asks huskily. I’ve been so lost in pleasure I hadn’t realized his clothes are completely missing, but don’t put out an APB. Trust me on this.

  He’s lying over me, our hands entwined and our arms stretched out over my head. I don’t know when I laid down, but I now register the hardness of the countertop beneath me, and I can’t make myself give a damn. Luke’s hips are moving back and forth, causing his steely cock to rub along my wetness, coating himself thickly with me.

  “You good?”

  “More than,” I pant, not understanding how just rubbing his shaft on the outside of my sex can feel so damn good.

  “Are you on the pill, Addy?” he rasps in my ear before nipping my lobe hard, drawing a moan from me.

  His question makes me nervous. I’ve never had sex before without a condom. I’ve never trusted anyone enough to do so, I guess, but so help me, the thought of having Luke be the first man inside me like that sends a fiery zing of eagerness rippling through me. All of a sudden my body is craving his seed on some type of biological level and there’s no way I can deny its call.

  “IUD.”

  Our eyes lock. “I want to fuck you raw, Addy. I need to f
eel my cock slide over each wet, hot ridge as I claim you, brand you. As I own your body and steal your soul.”

  “Luke…”

  I realize his head has slipped shallowly inside as he was talking. Hand to God, it feels so damn good I think I’m going to come again. With each word, he slips inside further. “I’m going to come,” I choke.

  “Fuuuck,” he curses long under his breath, teeth now scraping my neck. “Is that a yes, baby?”

  “I’ve—I’ve never had sex without a condom,” I admit.

  He draws back and the look on his face can only be described as triumphant. “You haven’t?”

  “No.”

  His smile blinds me, rendering me speechless. “Me either. So I guess that means I’m yours and you’re mine.”

  Hot sparks of yearning pelt me where we’re about to be joined bare for the first time and I couldn’t say no even if I wanted to, which I don’t. “Fuck me, Luke. Please.”

  The words have no sooner left my lips than his mouth slams to mine, and he thrusts violently inside me, seated to the hilt in one long drive.

  “Jesus, Addy. Fuck me. You feel so good,” he grates, breath mingling with mine. He holds himself still as he stands and I can feel him pulse against my walls as he places my legs over his shoulders and palms the back of my neck with one hand while gripping my hip hard with the other. Strong fingers dig into my flesh and I know this time I’ll have the trophies I craved last time.

  “You’re fucking mine now,” he grits before withdrawing slowly and slamming back as quickly and brutally as the first drive. Withdrawing again, he repeats the same process. My eyes roll back. Jesus, the man is brilliant in bed. Or the kitchen. Whatever. “Don’t close your eyes. I want to watch them glaze over. I want to watch you slowly unravel, baby.”

  And by slowly, he means excruciatingly slooowly. He brings me to the edge repeatedly yet doesn’t let me fall over, changing his pattern frequently so my body has to readjust. As I near the high again, he pulls back and alters his cadence, his depth.

  “I love the way your walls clench my cock, baby.” I bear down again and he moans loudly, briefly letting his head fall. I delight in my feminine prowess to bring this man to his knees right before me. Turnabout is fair play. I do it again as he withdraws and his nostrils flare. “Fuuuck,” he curses lowly.