His powerful hand turns my face back toward his, and his mouth finds mine. His kiss is authoritative, unwavering. A little shiver runs through me as his now-familiar taste bombards my senses. I’m drunk on him already, helpless under his influence. And I don’t mind one bit.
Lukas lays his hands against my shoulders and pushes me back forcefully onto the bed. I sprawl out before him, flat on my back. I expect him to climb up on top of me, covering me with his powerful frame...but instead he stays just where he is, kneeling beside the bed.
“Tell me, Hannah...” he growls, running his hands up along my legs, “Have you thought about all the things you’d like me to do to you? Before I took you for the first time, when we were still dancing around each other...did you fantasize about me?”
“I may have,” I admit, closing my eyes as Lukas’s touch hypnotizes me.
“Did you touch yourself, when you dreamed about me?” he asks.
“I...Well...”
“Tell the truth, Hannah,” he says, pushing up my thin tee shirt and kissing the skin just beside my hip bone.
“I...I did,” I tell him, “I did. Is that OK, Lukas?”
“Oh, that’s more than OK,” he groans, running his fingers along the elastic band of my boy shorts. “What did you imagine me doing to you, when you touched yourself?”
“E-everything,” I tell him with a dizzy laugh, “I thought of you fucking me, every which way. I imagined feeling your cock inside of me, your fingers...”
“Hmm...” he murmurs, his mouth just a hair away from my skin. “What about my mouth, Hannah? Did you ever fantasize about that?”
“Only...constantly,” I gasp.
“Well. That makes two of us,” Lukas says.
He runs his tongue along the edge of my shorts, tantalizing me. I raise my hips toward him, the feel of his tongue making me ache with wanting. My hands close around the bedclothes as I brace myself for whatever it is Lukas has in mind. His teeth pinch at my hip bone, just hard enough, as always. I can only imagine the things that mouth of his can do to a woman.
Slowly, Lukas tugs my cotton shorts down over my ass. I hear him moan as he realizes that I don’t have anything on underneath. My slit is already wet and waiting for him, and I spread my knees wide as Lukas rolls my shorts down my legs and away from my body. I can feel his hot gaze on that throbbing place between my legs, and I spread myself even wider for him to see. I love feeling his eyes on this most intimate, forbidden flesh. I just love the feeling of letting him know me this way.
Lukas runs his fingertips up the skin of my legs, brushing lightly against my trembling knees, my firm thighs. I can feel his warm breath against my wet slit as he caresses me with those powerful hands. He lowers his mouth, pressing his lips against my inner thigh. My head rolls to the side as a little moan escapes my throat. Lukas chuckles softly from his place between my legs.
“Oh, I haven’t even gotten started yet,” he growls.
I feel his fingers brush against my pink flesh, and he groans as he feels how wet he’s already made me. His fingers delve deeper and deeper, until I feel him slide up inside of me. I arch my back, delighting in feeling him there again. He flexes his strong fingers against my inner walls, stroking me into a state of heady bliss. Already, my breath is coming hard and fast—it’s hard to imagine being any more turned on by this incredible man...but then again, Lukas has always been more than I could have possibly imagined.
“Oh...” I moan, as I feel his stubbly jaw brush again the skin of my thigh.
Lukas draws his fingers out from within me and presses on my thighs, spreading me open as far as he can. I can feel his breath right against me. Right where I want to feel him the most.
I shudder with pleasure as Lukas presses his tongue against my slit, licking all along its throbbing length. He takes his time, tasting me, exploring every fold. The firm tip of his tongue roves all along me, leaving no inch behind as he covers me, coats me with his luxurious attentions. My back arches against the sheets, my hips pressing ever further towards him. I offer myself up to him, and he happily partakes.
“Jesus Christ!” I gasp, as the tip of Lukas’s tongue brushes against my tight, aching clit. The sudden, intense burst of sensation catches me totally off guard.
“That’s good, isn’t it?” he asks, and flicks his tongue against the hard nub once again. I can’t even gather my wits to answer. I simply moan for him, letting my lusty voice rise up to the ceiling of the bedroom.
Lukas kneads my clit with his powerful tongue, licking and rubbing and circling. Every word I’ve ever known flies from my mind as Lukas edges me ever forward toward unimaginable bliss. My head slams back against the mattress and I feel his fingers slide up inside me once more, massaging me there. The entire world shrinks down to the size of Lukas and I, his incredible touch filling my entire universe.
A forbidden, fantastic pulse of sensation ripples through me as I feel Lukas’s thumb brush against the tight, puckering circle of my anus. My mouth falls open, my body completely blindsided by this utterly unknown touch. No one has ever touched me there before. Not once. My every defense buckles under the fearlessness of Lukas’s possession. He closes his lips around my quivering clit and sucks hard, thrusting his fingers up inside of me as his thumb presses firmly against that forbidden place.
I cry out as the orgasm overtakes me, ricocheting through every single cell of my being. My hips buck wildly as Lukas continues to flick his tongue against my clit, holding tightly onto my trembling thighs. He’s relentless in his attention, and I fear that it might just be too much pleasure for me to take at once. My vision blurs as he keeps it up, refusing to let me rest. I fall limply back against the bed, as Lukas levels one last searing kiss against my elated pussy.
My chest is heaving as Lukas raises himself from between my legs, wiping his soaked mouth with the back of his hand. Grinning, he stands and makes his way to the bathroom. I hear the sound of running water lapping against the porcelain bathtub. My eyes flutter closed as I lie there, overwhelmed by Lukas’s impossibly delicious touch. Sleep almost overtakes me, until I feel Lukas’s arms pluck me up from the feather-soft bed. He cradles me against his body, more gently than I ever could have guessed. His swaying steps carry us in the bathroom, the sound of lapping water echoing against the tile.
“How does a bath sound?” he coos in my ear.
“Sounds...great,” I murmur, as he sets me on my feet. Lukas helps me lift the shirt up over my head and offers me his hand as I climb into the tub. I settle down in the steaming hot water, sighing as the heat loosens my every muscle even further. I peer up at Lukas through the thick steam and smile. Even amid all the chaos of our colliding lives, he still manages to offer me a deep, abiding peace I’ve never known before.
Reverently, Lukas begins to wash my spent body. It’s quite possibly the sexiest thing he’s ever done—and that is truly saying something.
Chapter Twenty-Five
-Lukas-
“Good afternoon, Mr. Roth,” Thomas says, as I open the door to the annex for him.
“Is it afternoon already?” I reply, squinting up into the bright sky.
“Indeed sir,” Thomas says, stepping lightly inside. His arms are full of papers and binders, and the daily paper rests on top of the pile. “Where’s Miss Levy?”
“Oh. She’s upstairs. Napping,” I tell him, fighting to suppress a wicked grin. Hannah was quite tuckered out after this morning’s salacious activities. I’ve never felt so satisfied in satisfying another person before in my life. She nearly fell asleep in the tub as I was lathering that perfect body of hers with lavender honey soap. As long as I live, that scent alone will be enough to turn me on. I’m going to be quite pent up by the time Hannah finally wakes up. I only hope that she rests long enough to recuperate in time for round two.
“Do you mind if I put these things down?” Thomas asks, struggling with the weight of his arm load.
“Of course not,” I tell him, “What is all of
that?”
“Plans,” he tells me.
“What for?” I ask, as Thomas begins to spread the materials across the dining room table.
“For the gala, of course!” he exclaims. “Your mother was very precise about what she wanted. There are menus planned out, a song list, the people she wants to give toasts, and what they’re to say...”
“Mother was nothing if not thorough,” I smile. A dull ache clenches at my heart as I let my mind drift to my mother. I’ve been fighting to keep from reminiscing since she passed away, for fear that sorrow might swallow me whole if I let myself dwell on it. But it’s hard not to think of Mother these days. She was such a towering figure, not only in my life, but in the world as a whole.
There will never be another person like her in the world, that’s for sure. I rifle through her plans, trying like hell to keep myself composed. Ever since Hannah showed up on the scene, it’s been harder to keep my emotions in check. She strips me of my defenses, that girl. And I’m not sure what to make of it.
“Where would you like to begin?” Thomas asks, gesturing toward the elaborate plans.
“Oh I don’t know,” I sigh, “It’s all so much.”
“I can take care of the preparations if you like, sir,” Thomas offers.
“Really?” I ask, “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all, sir,” he says cheerfully. “Is there any part of the planning you would like to do? Any task that you’d enjoy?”
“There is...one thing,” I muse, “But I’ll need to run out and fetch it. Would you mind waiting here with Miss Levy while I run out for a spell?”
“Not at all,” Thomas smiles.
I grab my keys and wallet and head out to my car, excited at the prospect of shopping for the first time in my entire life.
Chapter Twenty-Six
-Hannah-
Half the afternoon has already passed by the time I rouse myself from my nap. I rub my eyes, noting with illicit pleasure how weary my body still feels after this morning. Lukas sure knows how to wear a girl out.
Taking my time, I roll out of bed and throw on some clothes—cotton shorts and an oversized sweater. It feels nice to dress casually for a change, and I like the idea of Lukas seeing me all disheveled this late in the day. I can hear him moving around downstairs, and saunter down to meet him.
“Hey there stud,” I say, as I make my way toward the kitchen. “Is it happy hour yet? I could use a drink after what you—”
“Hello, Miss Levy,” Thomas says, peeking his head around the corner. I let out a little yelp of surprise, and the butler’s face draws into a mask of concern. “I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you!”
“It’s...fine,” I tell him, my heart thudding against my ribs. I’m not good with surprises. Not after my years with Sloan. He was one who loved to lie in wait and ambush me when I wasn’t expecting it. Not exactly my cup of tea, these days. “Where’s Lukas?” I ask.
“He ran out on an unspecified errand,” Thomas tells me, as he moves to the dining room table. There’s an expansive seating chart spread out before him, and I realize that he’s making plans for Gertrude’s gala.
“An errand, huh?” I say, taking a seat at the table and peering up at the butler.
“Indeed,” he says, shuffling around the names of guests with a discerning eye.
“Would this be a...work-related errand?” I ask. Lukas didn’t mention another job today. Thomas’s hands pause in their rearranging. His eyes dart toward mine, a look of panic rising there.
“Work?” he asks softly.
“Yes,” I say, leaning my elbows on the table, “Lukas, uh...filled me in. On the details of his professional life.”
“I see...” Thomas says, straightening up. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that he looked angry.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
“Of course not,” he says, his clipped tone betraying his true emotions.
“Thomas,” I say adamantly, “What is it? Would you have preferred that Lukas keep the details of his life from me? Don’t you think he can trust me?”
“It’s not that,” Thomas sighs, his eyes shining hopelessly. “I just...wish that you could have gone on with the rest of your life, that’s all. It’s a shame to see someone as young and full of potential as you become mired in all this...madness.”
“I’m not mired,” I tell him, “I want to be here. With Lukas. It’s my choice.”
“It’s not the choice I would make for you,” he tells me.
“Well...These days I make my own choices,” I reply, “It’s a new experience for me, deciding things for myself. I wish you’d let me enjoy it in peace.”
“Of course Miss Levy,” Thomas says. “You can’t blame an old man for worrying, is all.”
“There’s nothing to worry about,” I tell him with conviction. “Lukas only wants the best for me.”
“Indeed,” Thomas says. It’s not quite the statement of reassurance I’d hoped for. Instead, he rushes to change the subject. “They ran Mrs. Roth’s obituary in today’s paper. I would have gotten it in sooner, but it took quite a while to edit her biography down to a few paragraphs. It was quite a life that woman led.”
He hands me the day’s paper, and I quickly flip through the pages to the obituaries. Gertrude’s photo is the first that catches my eye. Thomas sent in a lovely picture of her as a young woman. She must be about my age in the photo, with curly brown hair and a wide, sincere smile that goes all the way up to her eyes. She was quite a beauty, Lukas’s mother. It’s no wonder he’s such a looker.
“Gertrude Roth, beloved socialite and benefactor of many local and global charities, passed away from natural causes last week in her family’s estate,” I read. “She was 70 years old. After fleeing from Germany as a girl, Gertrude settled in the United States and earned her degree in American literature. She later married Grayson Roth, with whom she had one son, Lukas. A gala will be held in Gertrude’s honor this Friday at the Roth Estate. Instead of sending flowers, the family would ask that you instead donate to one of the many charities Mrs. Roth supported.”
I’m about to close the paper when something catches my eye on the bottom of the page. A familiar face stares up at me from the news print. A face that has no business on the obituary page.
“Short and simple,” Thomas smiles. “Just as she would have liked it. Miss Levy? Are you alright, Miss Levy? You look pale.”
“I can’t believe it,” I breathe, my eyes fixed on the page. There, beneath the death notices of a dozen senior citizens, is a picture of Sloan Jackson’s brother, Bill. “I know this man,” I tell Thomas, pointing to the picture of my ex’s brother. “How can he be dead? He couldn’t have been 40 years old.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Levy,” Thomas says, “What an awful way to hear about the death of a friend.”
“He wasn’t a friend,” I say. Bill had continuously ignored my pleas for help when his brother’s abuse got out of hand. I scan his obituary to discover the cause of death. A home invasion. Shot in his own house. I can’t help but feel the tiniest bit justified. Bill had been a cop, but had been known to turn a blind eye to the misdeeds of his own family members. It wasn’t just Sloan’s crimes that he ignored. The boys’ father, a well known but corrupt politician, seemed to be above the law as well. As far as I’m concerned, there wasn’t a member of that family who didn’t deserve what was coming to him.
Still, I can’t help but feel a little bit sorry for Sloan. He looked up to Bill, treasured his opinion. He’s probably taking the death pretty hard. Irrationally, I consider calling him to offer my condolences...but of course, that’s out of the question. Seeing Sloan now, in the wake of his brother’s death, would be the worst thing I could possibly do. Better to let him suffer through it on his own, cruel as that may be.
I close the newspaper and push it away, stunned by my discovery. There really is no telling what this world has in store for any of us, is there? Though if I didn’t kn
ow better, I’d say that Bill’s death was the result of bad karma. Or some alternative form of justice, perhaps...
The front door swings open, and Lukas crosses the threshold, carrying a garment bag. He shoots me a mischievous grin as he comes toward the dining room table.
“Finally awake, are we?” he asks.
“Finally,” I reply with a weak smile.
“Are you OK?” he asks, setting down his bag, “You seem upset.”
“Miss Levy just came across some unfortunate news,” Thomas tells him.
“Oh?” Lukas says, looking down at me, “What sort of unfortunate news?”
“A man I know...knew...is dead,” I tell him. “My, uh, ex-boyfriend’s brother, Billy.” I open the newspaper to the obituary page and hold it up for Lukas to see. His eyes land heavily on the picture of Sloan’s brother, and I watch as his eyes flash in alarm. Or am I seeing things?
“That’s...the ex-boyfriend’s brother?” he asks, his voice even.
“Yes,” I say, nodding my head. “That ex-boyfriend.”
“Huh,” Lukas says, the syllable edged with bitterness. “It figures.”
I’m about to ask him what the hell he means by that when he picks up the garment bag and holds it out to me.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“Your gown, for mother’s gala,” Lukas says with a somewhat distracted smile.
“Lukas!” I gasp, taking the garment bag reverently, “You didn’t need to do that!”
“I hope you don’t mind me shopping for you,” he says, “But I couldn’t resist. Will you go try it on?”
“Of course,” I tell him, planting a kiss on his cheek before rushing upstairs to the bathroom.
I close the door behind me, all thoughts of Sloan and Billy displaced from my mind. Why bother dwelling on the misfortunes of bad men, anyway? I hang that garment bag on the back of the bathroom door and slide the zipper down its length. Gingerly, I push aside the bag and catch a glimpse of a glimmering, sleek gown. My breath catches in my throat as the sunlight caresses the sapphire fabric of the dress—it’s absolutely gorgeous stunning.
Ravaged Page 18