The Bad Boy In Cuffs

by Lexxie Couper

  Oh boy. Engagement. My dad was going to lose it when he found out Lucas and I were engaged. I mean, lose it.

  I dropped my head, letting the water run over the back of my neck. Perhaps I was out of sorts because my parents didn’t know about everything. How would Mom and Dad cope with it? If something had happened to me in the weeks since Lucas had turned up naked, bloody, beaten and aroused in my bedroom, in the weeks since my whole world got turned upside down, how would they process it? Deal with it?

  Guilt lashed at me, hot and cold at once.

  Guilt and sudden worry for them.

  And for Lucas. I’d kept my parents in the dark about him, for fear of how they’d react. That was crappy. The only thing Lucas feared was something happening to me, and here I was, scared to tell my parents about us?

  “Okay,” I mumbled, the water streaming over my cheeks and lips. “This needs to be fixed.”

  “It does.”

  I raised my head at Lucas’s deep voice. Turned to look at him.

  He stood watching me, expression guarded, unreadable. “Are you mad at me?”

  I shook my head. I wasn’t. I was mad at myself.

  “Can I make love to you?”

  His question—asked with an uncertainty I’d never heard from him before—tore at my heart. “Yes. Just let me finish my shower and—”

  He stepped into the shower, fully clothed, his stare holding mine.

  “Lucas,” I blinked at the water, at him, “you’re getting—”

  He silenced me with a kiss.

  Burying his hands in my wet hair, he crushed my lips with his, his tongue delving into my mouth, seeking out mine. Mating with it.

  I moaned, the familiar and all-too-addictive hunger his touch awoke in me turning my blood hot. I pressed my naked body to his fully dressed one. His clothes, drenched and clinging to his body, rubbed at my skin, a wicked friction that detonated a delicious tingle in my core.

  There was something uniquely erotic about being in the shower with him in such contradictory states; both horny, my body utterly exposed, his covered completely and yet revealed to me by the wet fabric of his jeans and shirt.

  His cock—a hard, thick pole in his sodden jeans—pressed to my belly, undeniable.

  As if I could ever deny Lucas’s cock. Ha.

  Groaning again, I slid my fingers between his stomach and his jeans, taking his engorged length in my grip.

  “Fuck, I will never get enough of you touching me, babe,” he ground out against my lips, my throat.

  I squeezed his length, rolling my head to the side as he sucked on my skin. Lucas had a thing for leaving hickeys on my body. Was he branding me? Marking me as his possession? Letting anyone else who may see them know I’m not available? I suspected so. Did I care? No.

  His cock jerked again. I withdrew my hand and lowered his zipper. His wet jeans were cramping my style. I wanted all of him released, not just the tip of his cock peaking above the waistband of his jeans.

  A rough moan rumbled deep in his chest as his erection sprang free, followed by his balls. Lucas never wore underwear, something I’d suspected way back when we were both teenagers and now knew to be a fact. Back then, it had stirred in me a dark sense of forbidden excitement. Now…it just made me as horny as all hell.

  I peeled his wet jeans down over his hips, his ass, down his thighs. He bit at my collarbone, his hands scooping up my breasts. He pinched my nipples, moving his mouth to the top of my shoulder as he did so.

  Another shiver of lust rippled through me and I lowered myself to my knees and sucked his cock deep into my mouth.

  “Fuck me!” He slammed his hips forward, driving his length to the back of my throat. I took all of him, my body on fire with desire.

  His hands tangled into my wet hair, tight and inescapable. Ribbons of pain threaded through the pleasure of his rough touch, and my pussy flooded with warmth.

  Yes. Hard, savage sex with Lucas was exactly what I wanted right now. Nothing gentle. Nothing sweet. Just hard, primal rutting.

  I cupped his balls in one hand, kneading them with a pressure I knew bordered on too much. He thrust his hips forward again, his fists tightening in my hair. “Again.”

  I squeezed again, this time pressing one of my fingers to his puckered anus.

  “I’ll fucking explode in your mouth if you do that, babe.”

  The wavering control in his voice filled me with hot lust. And hungry power.

  I slid my mouth up his erection, my lips sealed around his girth, my tongue laving his flesh. And then, with a flick of my tongue at the tiny slit on the tip of his cock, I tugged on his balls, pressed my finger harder to his anus, and sucked him completely back into my mouth.

  Once again, he rammed against the back of my throat. Once again, he groaned and punched his hips forward. Once again, he pulled my face to his groin, his fists in my hair tighter still.

  And once again, I burned with pleasure and need and desire.

  The water ran over us, over my closed eyes, around my lips, trickling into my mouth to join Lucas’s flesh there.

  I kneaded his balls and sucked at his cock, over and over, massaging his anus with a finger growing more insistent, penetrating his back entry a little more with each stroke.

  He trembled. “Fuck me, babe. Fuck…fuck…that’s so…holy fuck, Ronnie, I love…”

  A shudder rocked through him. His balls grew high and hard in my hand. He was about to come. I’d made him orgasm enough times to know. He was about to come and I was going to—

  He jerked his cock free of my mouth and yanked me to my feet with one fierce hand. “Not yet.” His eyes burned with lust as he drove me to the tiled wall, pinning me there with his lower body.

  His thick dick mashed to my belly, detonating a carnal delight in me. Lucas’s naked sex against my skin? Yes, please. Anytime.

  “When?” I demanded, rolling my hips. Dry humping him in the shower as the water streamed over our bodies.

  “When I’m fucking good and ready,” he growled, a heartbeat before latching onto the side of my neck with his mouth. He closed a hand over one of my breasts, fingers far from gentle, and ground the corded length of his thigh to my pussy, my clit.

  Fat ropes of pleasure unfurled through me at the brutal touch and I gasped, clawing at his shoulders. “I w-want you naked,” I demanded, grabbing at his wet T-shirt.

  He lifted his head and captured my lips with his, the kiss an invasion of tongue and teeth that sent liquid electricity into my pussy.

  I clung to him, my knees shaking.

  Tearing his mouth from mine, he gazed down into my eyes. Something about the way the water beaded on his dark lashes made me even hornier. Or maybe it was the open hunger in his eyes.

  “And I want you safe, but you insist on going out without protection, so we’re even.”

  A dark knot twisted in my stomach. “Fuck you, Lucas. Don’t make everything about your shitty past life.”

  His nostrils flared. “My shitty past life will do everything it can to destroy everything wonderful in my life now, Ronnie. Don’t you know that by now?”

  “So?” I shot back, my heart wild. “We’re having this argument now, are we? In the shower? Me naked, you half undressed? Both of us horny and angry and wet?”

  His nostrils flared again and he slowly shook his head, his thigh once again rubbing against my folds and clit. “Oh no, babe.” His low murmur turned my nipples to hard points. The pit of my stomach fluttered. My sex contracted. “What’s happening now is, I’m going to make you pay for freaking me the fuck out. And when we’re finished, then I’m going to punish you for freaking me the fuck out. And then we can have the argument.”

  I swallowed. I didn’t need to ask how he was going to make me pay.

  God help me, I knew. And it made me so wet, so ripe, so ready to come…

  The corners of his lips curled. He knew it. He knew I knew.

  “Lucas…” I whispered, straining for what was to come.
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br />   He slid his hand from my boob, down over my ribs, over my hip and to the junction of my thighs, shifting his leg just enough to allow his fingers access to my sex. He parted my folds, exposing my clit to his touch.

  “Every time you’re about to come, babe, I’m going to stop doing whatever it is I’m doing.” He rolled his fingertips over my sensitive button. Shards of delicious tension shot through me. “Until the wave subsides just enough to take you away from eruption, and then I’ll do it all over again.”

  I whimpered. Sheer sexual torture. Oh boy. Oh boy…yes. Yes…

  “Oh yes,” I breathed, arching into his hand.

  He chuckled, the sound dark and smug and full of strained control, and proceeded to slowly sink two fingers into my sex.

  Penetrating me.

  Raw pleasure radiated through me. I tangled my hands in his hair and nipped at his bottom lip. He allowed me the aggressive kiss—for a few delicious seconds—and then withdrew his fingers from inside me.

  “Reach up and grab the shower, babe,” he ordered, teasing my clit with wicked little strokes of his fingertip as he pressed my back to the wet tiled wall beneath the showerhead.

  A tight shudder rocked through me. My pussy contracted. I did as instructed, moaning as he latched onto one of my nipples and sucked.

  He continued to play with my clit, his mouth and fingers an exquisite harmony on my flesh. I gripped the cool metal above my head, the position one of submission and offering.

  When it came to Lucas, everything I was, every inch of my body, was available to him. Even when I was pissed at his overprotectiveness.

  Releasing my nipple with a pop, he plunged his fingers back into my pussy, scissoring them inside me as he gazed down into my upturned face. Water streamed over him, cascading over his shoulders, down his chest and arms. His drenched shirt, molded to his body by the shower, was now almost transparent, the tattoos on his torso ghosts I wanted to lick and trace with my own fingers.

  At the slight shift in my body as I went to do just that, Lucas shook his head, his hand on my breast growing firm, his fingers in my sex growing still. “You don’t move, babe. Not until I tell you otherwise. You stay exactly this way, where I want you. There. For me. Mine.”

  A hot rush of liquid lust pooled in my core. A ragged moan fell from me. I should be furious. I knew exactly what was going on.

  Where I want you.

  Where Lucas wanted me was safe, from his past life and all the shit in it.

  I should be angry at what he was trying to do, trying to prove. And I was. On a separate level. But I was also so damn horny, the wetness at the junction of my thighs had nothing to do with being in a running shower and everything to do with impatient sexual greed.

  I wanted Lucas to use sex to punish me. Wanted it so fucking much I was on the cusp of coming already.

  “Do not move,” he repeated, resuming his slow torment of my breast. He licked a path up the side of my neck to my ear as he did so, nipped my earlobe, rubbed his thumb over the point of my nipple.

  I moaned, the sound low and husky.

  Cupping my breast completely in his hand, he sucked hard on the side of my neck as he buried his fingers back into my pussy.

  The three points of contact detonated a wall of tight heat through me and I cried out, bucking into his hand.

  He tortured me this way for an eternity, my whimpers and pleas for more bouncing around the bathroom every time he slowed to a halt.

  Both sides of my neck became the possession of his mouth. And then both breasts. He sucked and nipped my nipples, propelling me closer and closer to orgasm. His fingers in my sex stroked my G-spot over and over. My knees trembled, my breath grew shallow.

  I thrust my hips forward, my clit aching to be touched, my body craving release.

  With a low chuckle, he withdrew his fingers, rolled them over my clit a few times and then—slowly straightening to his feet—licked them clean.

  Holy crap, I wouldn’t be able to survive much more.

  And then the bastard dropped to his knees, parted my folds with his thumbs and captured my clit with his mouth.

  I cried out, a tsunami of pleasure crashing over me. Gripping the shower arm tighter, I lifted one leg and wrapped it around his shoulder, doing everything I could to drive his mouth harder to me, his tongue deep into my sex.

  He laughed against my clit, wrapped one strong hand around my leg and lowered it back to its original position. “What did I say about not moving, Ronnie?”

  My stomach fluttered. My pussy did the same. Closing my eyes, I chewed on my bottom lip.

  He licked a slow line over my seam to my clit again, smoothing his palms over my ass cheeks as he did so.

  I closed my eyes, surrendering to his power over my pleasure, my body. He flicked my clit again, and then sucked on it with tiny pulses, his fingers inching closer to my anus with every swipe.

  Another orgasm began to build deep in my core. I gasped. He’d denied me so many already, I was certain I was about to tear apart.

  “Oh God, L-Lucas…” I panted, head swimming with swirls of dark pleasure and need. “I…I can’t…much long…”

  He took complete ownership of my sex with his mouth, fucking me hard with his tongue. Eating me out until every nerve ending in my body began to tingle.

  His fingers played with my back entry, never penetrating the ring of muscle there, but stimulating it until I could barely breath.

  And still I hung onto the shower above my head. Still I craved every second of his dominance over my body.

  “Please,” I moaned when the base of my spine began to tingle. Was I being a masochist? Letting him know I was about to come, and therefore denying myself release once again? He would pull away. I had no doubt. When he’d promised he was going to make me pay for worrying him, when he said he was going to punish me for leaving this morning alone, he wasn’t kidding. Lucas may kid about some things (his dislike of Star Trek was one. He was a firmly in-the-closet Trekkie), but my safety and his way of keeping me safe weren’t among them.

  Again, it was an issue that we would need to deal with, and soon. Just not…not now. Not when he was making me feel so damn incredible.

  “Please,” I rasped, the word but a choppy breath. I was about to explode. There was no coming back from the brink this time.

  His tongue laved my clit. His fingers pressed at my anus, igniting all the hypersensitive nerves there.

  I arched, driving my sex harder to his tongue.

  Too good. Too intense. I was going to come. I was going to—

  Without warning, Lucas rose to his feet, hooked my right knee over his elbow and yanked it up to my rib, and impaled me completely onto his cock with one fluid upward thrust.

  My lips stretched for him, the wicked sensation of flesh around flesh, muscle squeezing muscle erasing everything but him, but us.

  Everything else didn’t matter. It was just this. Just him. In me. Filling me. Fucking me.

  Owning me.

  Loving me.

  We moved together, his cock buried in my body, sliding in and out with powerful, savage strokes, one hand gripping the back of my thigh, keeping my leg bent high beside our bodies, the other on my hip, my ass, my breast, my throat…

  “Fucking make me worry,” he growled against my temple, his rhythm primitive and unforgiving. “My heart stopped when that bastard hit you.”

  The confession tore at my soul. I knew the things that Lucas had survived for me, I knew what he had done, what he’d been forced to do…all for me… I knew what he was capable of doing…for me…

  I rolled my head. As much as I wanted to hold him, to cling to him, I knew something else. He needed this. He needed to feel in control at this moment. The morning had taken that from him. I’d taken that from him. In taking off this morning without Francis and Fluffy, without the protection from his past he feared would one day destroy him, I’d taken from him his strength, his purpose.

  His issues were fucked u
p and sometimes they scared me, but we would sort them out. Together. We would spend the rest of our lives getting them sorted out. Until he didn’t fear for anything except the possibility of running out of toilet paper…

  Until then…I would willingly suffer the most intense, wild, animalistic fucking only he could give.

  “You saved me,” I panted, my orgasm rushing at me. “You saved me.”

  A dark need filled his eyes, thunderous and compelling, and then he snared one of my hands with one of his, threaded our fingers, and pressed his face into the side of my neck. “I love you so fucking much, Ronnie.” He slammed deeper into me, stretching me to my limit. Pleasure and pain became indivisible. One. Just as surely as Lucas and I were one. “So…much.”

  I came on his last word, my pussy contracting around his cock, his name a screamed breath from my lips.

  He drove into me, over and over, and then—his rhythm lost to wild rutting—he clawed at my ass, my hip, and threw back his head.

  I felt his seed pour into me. Felt it pump from his cock in the most sublime, perfect connection ever.

  Whimpering, I let go of the shower and clung to the front of his wet shirt. Holding on to him as tight as I could as we both exploded with pleasure.

  By the time he slipped his spent cock from me, the water had run cold. Eyes closed, I lifted my face to the cool stream, reveling in the soft, icy kisses on my flushed cheeks.

  Standing motionless, I drew in a deep breath. And then another as Lucas began to lick at my nipples again.

  “Really?” I chuckled, utterly sated and already beginning to crave more.

  “I will never get enough of your beautiful tits, babe.” He rubbed his thumbs over my nipples, his grin relaxed. His earlier angry edge was gone. In the shower with me now was the man who I’d been surprised to know even existed; the gentle, relaxed Lucas Pratt who knew how to braid hair, loved watching rom-coms with me, and knew exactly how to give the best foot massages ever.

  The other Lucas would come back—the one who hated almost everything in the world, who would destroy it if it meant keeping me safe—but not until I, or someone else, provoked him.