by Cranford, B.
Her hand reached out and gripped my jaw, surprising force in her hold as she tilted my head up to look at her. “Lick me, Lucas. Don’t make me wait.”
A stunner. That’s what she was, sitting there in front of me, taking my demand and then giving me back one of her own. One I was only too happy to oblige. I broke her hold, turning my head quickly to bite the meaty part of her palm at the base of her thumb, then dropped my gaze down, zeroing in on the place she demanded I lick. I didn’t reply, didn’t wait, didn’t give her any reason to think I wasn’t going to give her exactly what she wanted.
She might think it was just for now, just for this moment.
But I knew I would keep giving her exactly what she wanted, for as long as she wanted me to.
I gripped her hips to yank her forward enough that her pussy was open for me and buried my face in between her legs. Using my shoulders, I pushed her legs wider, giving me even more access to all that heaven. She tasted better than chocolate, better than anything, and I groaned, letting her flavor flood my mouth.
“God, that feels so fucking good, Lucas. Don’t stop.”
Never. I shook my head, giving her both my answer and a little side-to-side action that made her hands fly to my head, scraping her nails across my scalp as she clawed at me.
I wanted to go lower, to fuck her with my tongue, but the seat of her chair was still partially in the way and I realized I had us in a place we couldn’t spread out. A place where I couldn’t spread her out. Again.
Pulling my head back, I raised up on my knees and slammed my mouth—wet with her taste—against hers and thrust my tongue inside. The kiss was harsh—her hands still clawed at my head while mine wandered up the sides of her legs and around to grip her arse in a firm hold.
She wrenched her mouth from mine, arousal mixed with something like anger in her eyes. “I said don’t stop.”
Biting her lower lip in rebuke, I replied, “And I don’t want to be confined any more. I want you in my bed, Bianca. That’s where I’m taking you.” I didn’t say anything more, just used my hold on her arse to lift her with me as I stood, my biceps and my quads both burning so good with the movement.
Her mouth came back to mine, a kiss that told me she was okay with the turn of events now that she knew what was happening. Our lips and tongues remained locked as I walked with her wrapped around me back toward my bedroom and the bed I’d been fantasizing about fucking her in from the moment I met her.
It was finally time for the fun to start.
And I was going to make sure it was the most fun she ever had.
5
Bianca
My back landed on the bed, my legs still locked around Lucas’ waist. It meant that he landed on top of me, and rather than feeling the weight of him, I felt only the press of his cock from behind the sweatpants he’d pulled on after our earlier shower.
“Lose the pants,” I panted, pulling back from the kiss that had seen us from the kitchen table back to the bedroom.
“In a second,” he muttered in reply, kissing me again, the faint taste of me still lingering on his lips. “First, gotta finish what I started.”
He gripped my calves, using his hold to unhook my legs from around him, and slid down the bed until his face was at my center once again. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” He looked up at me, sincerity in his eyes, and I couldn’t have stopped from smiling at him if I’d wanted to.
“Thank you,” I whispered, wanting him to know that I heard his words, I felt them, I appreciated them. But I also wanted him to know I was done with waiting. “Make me come, Luc. Please.”
“Begging, baby? You don’t need to do that.” He turned his attention back to my pussy, his hand coming up to press against my thigh, widening my legs for him. “Such a pretty pussy. I knew it would be. Didn’t I say it would be?”
I moaned, thinking about the dirty words he’d whispered in that bathroom, how he’d promised me he’d look his fill before he put his mouth on me. Laid out like I was, I could feel the burn of his eyes on my most intimate place and it felt so good. So good. I’d never really been one to like being watched during sex. With Mason, as good as it had been, especially early in our relationship, it had lacked the intensity I felt just from Lucas’ gaze on me.
Don’t think about him now, I angrily instructed my wayward mind, hating that my ex had suddenly, somehow intruded on this moment. “Lucas.” I said his name to remind myself where I was, where I wanted to be—in this bed with a man I might not know well but felt connected to by a hundred tiny and inexplicable threads.
This is crazy came the reply from the sensible part of my brain. It was the part that had been controlling my thoughts and actions for a long-damn-time, and the part that I wanted to use this trip to Australia to cast back.
I didn’t want to always be sensible. To be the girl that used logic to hide away from truths that were too difficult to confront.
I wanted to be this girl who was spread out on the plain black comforter of Lucas Hawke’s bed, telling him to “lose the pants.”
“Come back to me, pretty girl.” His voice intruded on my runaway thoughts—thank god—and the minute my eyes locked back on him, his tongue swept across my swollen clit. His hands were splayed on my thighs, his thumbs spreading me open, and as he licked at me, I rolled my hips wanting more.
Needing more.
He turned his head quickly, and before I even had the chance to moan my disapproval, I felt the bite of his teeth on my thigh. My little “Oh” got louder when he whipped his head to the opposite side and did the same, except harder, longer.
I laughed, remembering his words on the plane. “I’m obsessed with the idea of sinking my teeth into you.”
“Laughing at me?” he asked, looking up at me, his breath brushing across my exposed clit, and making me shiver. “That might get you punished.”
I shook my head, and pouted, hoping I looked as sexy as I felt with his big body between my legs. “Not laughing at you.” I waited a beat, pondering his threat, then asked, “What’s my punishment?”
Instead of answering me with words, he answered me with his actions, using his tongue on me to bring me to the edge time and time again. His fingers, when he brought his hand up to thrust two inside me, pressed repeatedly and deliciously on that spot which made my legs shake involuntarily. He moved my body, spreading my legs, throwing them over his shoulders, and, finally, gripping my waist after withdrawing his hand and mouth from between my legs, to flip me over until I was on all fours in front of him.
“This arse. Fuck.” His hand came down in a swift slap that jolted me forward and made me cry out. “Too hard?” His voice softened with the question, caring infused in his tone that told me he wasn’t as out of control as he seemed.
“No, I just wasn’t expecting it,” I assured him, turning my head so I could look at him over my shoulder and give him a smile that promised I wanted everything he was giving me.
He stopped, holding stock still on his knees on the bed behind me. His hand came up to my ass cheek and stroked it gently, the soft touch a stark, arousing contrast to the smack he’d just given me. Then, he moved around my body, falling down to lay stretched out beside me, and whispered, “I wasn’t expecting you.”
It hit me hard, the way he said it with such unhidden reverence. With honesty and something else behind it that felt a lot like the kind of feeling we couldn’t—shouldn’t—be confessing. Not this soon.
Maybe not ever.
“Luc,” I started, lowering myself until I lay on my stomach beside him. I was still aching, wanting, but the tempo of the moment had changed and I . . .
I felt lost.
His eyes flashed, the green swallowed for a half-second, before he leveled me with a look that screamed, “I’m about to fuck you into submission.” I grabbed hold of that feeling, that look, wanting us to get back to the crazy, out-of-nowhere electricity that brought us to this moment. “Back up on those hands and knees, Bianca. I
wasn’t finished.”
He moved, rolling first to the side to open the drawer of the bedside table and pull out a condom, then lifting himself up and knee-walking back to his place.
Behind me.
His hands landed on my shoulders and ran down the length of my back, coming back up just a little to settle at my waist. Suddenly, I was lying on my back, looking up at the sexiest man I’d ever seen—who was smiling around the condom packet clenched in his teeth. Reaching up, I plucked it free and ripped it open, while Luc continued smiling like he thought he was the luckiest man in the world.
I’d never had a man look at me like he was looking at me in that moment.
“I had to see you this time, pretty girl. Fucking hell, Bianca. You’re so beautiful.”
I paused opening the condom to whisper a “thank you,” my heart thrashing against my chest at the affection and honesty in his words. I wanted to say something back, but I had no idea what, so instead, I kept on with my task—to get Luc wrapped up and inside me as soon as humanly possible.
I was aching, having been to the edge a handful of times.
“I think . . .” he trailed off as he lowered himself, bringing his lips to mine for a soft brush of a kiss, then moving his lips down. Gently, he kissed his way down the left side of my neck, along the curve of my shoulder. In his wake, goosebumps, my body reacting to the light brush of his lips like it had been starved for him.
“You think what?” I asked, condom still in hand, distracted as I was by the way he moved over me.
He stopped, his mouth hovering over the ball of my shoulder, and darted a quick look at me. All I saw was a flash of wicked green, then his teeth sank into my skin, a bite of pleasure and whisper of pain that fed the hunger I was feeling yet left me desperate for more.
“I think I promised to bite you all over.” Pushing himself up, he started the same trail of kisses, except this time he was on my right side, and my body tensed as his mouth moved closer and closer to my opposite shoulder.
“You did. Promise.” The words were low and barely more than a mutter, anticipation building within as I waited for that same nip of pleasure and pain.
Except it didn’t come. His lips sailed over my shoulder and down my arm, kissing me all the way down to my hand and pausing with a lingering kiss on my palm. Lifting it once it was free of his kiss, I brought it to his cheek and rested it there, waiting for him to turn and look at me.
“Need something?” he asked, arrogance practically dripping from the words.
“You.” I held up the ripped packet, wondering if he’d let me slide the rubber down his length or if he planned to follow through on the “bite you all over” thing. Honestly, it could go either way and I was totally fine with that.
“You’ve got me,” was the barely audible reply before he closed his eyes and leaned into my palm.
I wanted to say something back, aware that he’d added extra meaning to those three little words, but I didn’t know what. He had me, yes, but not in the way it felt like I had him—the way he was giving himself to me.
“Lucas,” I whispered instead, wondering what I was doing with him, this man who’d had such a huge impact in such a short time. Lowering my hand, I used freeing the condom from its wrapper as an excuse to look away, and hardly a second passed before I felt the press of his teeth against my nipple. Harder than the previous nibbles, it felt like a message and a claiming, and fuck, it felt good. “Lucas, please.”
“Please what?” He moved his attention to my other breast as his question swirled around me, and I asked myself the same question. Please what indeed.
Was I asking for more?
Less?
Something else entirely?
Unsure and wanting to get lost again in the sensation of having him around and over me, the desire that had been flooding my system for hours—unsated even by the explosive orgasms I’d already had—I dropped the now empty wrapper and reached between us to grip his rigid cock.
I stroked him firmly, my hold tightening as he used his teeth on me on various spots across my breasts and down to my belly. For long, heady minutes, we pleasured each other like that, until I couldn’t, couldn’t, wait any longer. Shoving my free hand into the short hair at the back of his head, I scraped my nails in such a way as to force his attention back up to my face.
“Yes?” he asked, lifting his head and raising an eyebrow in question.
“Roll over.”
“Come again?”
“Coming again would imply I’d already come once, and I haven’t. I said roll over.” I matched his arched eyebrow with my own, but he wasn’t swayed.
“I seem to recall you and me, in the shower, not so very long ago. Are you saying I didn’t do my job, baby?”
I shook my head, drawing my hand down from his hair, across his cheek to rest on the side of his neck. “We’ve had clothes on since then. Don’t try to add to your tally here when that was a different game. Now, roll over.”
“As you wish.” His sly grin was the only warning I got as he landed his hands on my waist once more, dropped his weight over my body and rolled so I was laid out along him, his steely cock trapped between us.
I sat up quickly, smiling because he was fun, this was fun. Despite the occasional questioning thought, my mind was locking down snapshots of us in bed together for the first time, saving them for later.
For after we said goodbye.
Moving swiftly, I rolled the protection down his length, using both hands to grip the base of his penis, angling it as I rose higher on my knees and settled the blunt head at my entrance. “Ready?” I asked, knowing the answer, but needy for the reassurance.
He shook his head, then nodded, his hand coming to replace mine on his dick. “Put those hands in that hair, pretty girl.”
Doing as he asked, I threaded my fingers through my increasingly untamed curls then began to lower myself onto him, the thick, heated intrusion of his body into mine making my hands tighten.
“Fuck. Fuck, that’s a sight.”
With my hands in my hair, I was open for him, and his eyes—they roamed every inch of me that he could see. I felt the weight of his stare as he watched me, waiting until our eyes met to start riding him.
Rolling my hips, finding the right rhythm, I reveled in the full feeling he gave me, moving faster and faster until I was panting and so was he. “I’m so close, I’m nearly there,” I moaned, my arms beginning to feel the burn of being raised to my hair for a prolonged period. “I need you to touch me.”
His nod was immediate, his hands—which had settled one on my thigh, one on my hip as he guided me up and down and back and forth—drifted over my skin. One landed on my breast, my nipple pinched in the V between his index and middle finger, while the other pressed firm against my mound, his thumb seeking and finding my swollen clit and rubbing with the exact right amount of pressure.
Unable to hold my arms over my head any longer, I let them fall so I was braced with my hands against his chest. I could feel his heart racing as his movements and my own became more ragged, until I knew myself to be at the edge once more and this time, falling over into unadulterated ecstasy. “Luc, Luc, Luc,” I chanted, my brain having forgotten everything else except the man below me who, with his eyes squeezed tightly shut and his head tilted back, groaned loud and guttural, almost indecipherable except for one terrifying word.
Love.
6
Bianca
I woke up, dazed and more than a little confused, a dense fog clouding my brain as I tried to take in my surroundings.
“Hey, sleepy head.”
I turned at the sound of Lucas’ voice, his accent making me smile through the haze. “I fell asleep.”
“You’re a smart one, huh?” he joked, his body language making it clear the question was asked in jest. “We both did. Jet lag strikes again.”
I nodded, then shook my head—not to disagree, but to try and force my sluggish mind and body to come back onl
ine. “What time is it?”
“Just before four in the afternoon. I was going to let you sleep a little longer, but if you want to get your phone sorted out, we need to get to Mum and Dad’s a little earlier.”
I cocked my head, not having realized that he’d woken me instead of it being a more natural thing. I guess it explained why I was struggling to push past the tiredness. “Earlier?” I asked, a small part of me a bit cranky at being woken, even though he did it for me. “It’s not that important”—I softened my tone—“so we can go after dinner. Or, like, tomorrow?”
“We can’t go after dinner. The shop’ll be shut.”
“Shut? How long does dinner in your family last?” I asked, nerves joining my sleepiness to make a knot of anxiety form in my chest.
“Settle down. This isn’t America—the shops don’t stay open until nine or ten at night, unless it’s a Thursday or Friday.”
I frowned, trying to process that. “Say what?”
“The newsagency is just a little place in the row of shops at the end of my parents’ street. They’ll close at five. Five-thirty if we’re lucky.”
Weird. I didn’t want to say that out loud for fear of being insulting, but come on. The store closed at five in the afternoon? Like you wouldn’t call that kind of strange if you were in my shoes.
Not that I was wearing shoes at that moment.
Or, actually, any clothes.
I was wholly naked, stretched out in bed, suffering killer jet lag and curled close to a man I didn’t actually know all that well. Sure, the flight to Australia was an intense experience, and we had plenty of time to do the getting-to-know-you thing but it wasn’t like we talked the whole time.
His hands on my skin, his dirty words in my ear. The tiny, enclosed space and the shimmering feeling of rightness that made me act crazy.
Holy shit. I couldn’t believe myself.