Page 46 of Out of Control

“Yes, I want it, Lucas. Pleasepleaseplease put your cock inside me and fuck me until I can’t walk anymore.” I needed him more than I needed anything else in my whole life. There was no pretending, no hiding, just a deep-seated need to have Lucas Blake deeply seated inside of me.

Keeping one hand on his dick behind me, his other hand reached forward and gently tucked my hair behind my ear, giving him space to lean forward and breathe into my ear, “Good girl.”

And then he finally pushed inside.

We both groaned when he slid in so smoothly, so fully, my slick arousal guiding the way home. He stayed still, holding his position inside me much too long, the only movement when his hands ran down my arms to squeeze my hands where they gripped the back of the couch, fingers briefly lacing through mine with another quick squeeze before he let go.

And then, like the good, good man that he was, he made good on his promise. Hands moving to my hips, he pulled out, thrusting back in much more quickly, almost roughly.

I let out a throaty, feminine grunt at the intrusion, feeling his cock already bottoming out inside me. Damn.

His face still at my neck, he gave me a little kiss below my ear. “You okay?”

“God yes.”

“Good girl,” he said again. And then he began again in earnest. In and out, harder and harder, urged on by my moaning and squirming, my back arching and hips pushing back to meet him with each thrust. He was just as loud as me, groaning and grunting and moaning, words lost to both of us as he kept going.

When I felt like I couldn’t take it any longer he seemed to read my mind, one hand reaching around to rub my clit again. I came harder than ever, losing my balance and just letting the couch support my full weight. My voice was hoarse, raw from the cries and screams he conjured in me, and still the waves kept coming.

“Yes. Yes. Good girl! Yes!” he called from behind me, his own hips going erratic as his release rocked through him in time with me until he fell back onto the floor behind the couch, pulling me down with him.

Hands a lot more gentle on my hips, he helped me into a comfortable position, head in the nook of his arm. I happily clung to him, snuggling in close.

“How are those legs, Athena?”

“Jelly,” I confirmed, letting my body go limp against him. “As promised you can spend more time eating me out if you must, but you’ll have to carry me up the stairs first.”

The sound of his laugh warmed my chest. “Give me a minute. My legs are jelly, too. That pretty little pussy is magic.”

I shuddered. I should have been fully satisfied. I had, what, four orgasms already? But the fire in his eyes told me I was in for more.

“Just go easy on me, Lucas. I need to be able to walk tomorrow morning.”

“But not tonight. So you’ll have to let me know if I start straddling the line where your recovery time leaks into tomorrow, because I really like seeing you so out of it that you can’t walk thanks to me.” And then this man, this strong, steady man, shifted my body in his arms and rose to a standing position carrying my full weight and headed to the stairs. Those thoughtfully curated muscles weren’t just for show, and I tried to hide how impressed I was.

“Why do men judge themselves based on sexual prowess? Isn’t that a little outdated?”

“Maybe. But there’s something gratifying about knowing that we can please our women folk at least as much as they please us.”

Okay, that was a little heartwarming. If I hadn’t already melted into a boneless pile of woman, his words would have done the job.

“Did I please you, Athena?”

I debated making a sarcastic remark back. The banter between us was a great asset. But I could see the real worry in hiseyes. I recalled the explicit consent he asked for, more than once. The way his hands held mine so softly before he got rough. The way he checked in on me. He really wanted everything to be hot and sexy and perfect.

I’d never had a more considerate lover. I fought to keep my expression steady and my lip from trembling as I came to the stunning realization that although we clearly fucked—banged, boinked, did it, whatever other crass words you wanted to use—there was a kindness, a familiarity that also made it feel like making love at the same time. It was sexy, hot, spicy…but I also felt cared for, cherished, worshipped like the goddess I was named for.

“You did more than that,” I answered honestly, but I couldn’t keep the sappy feeling going until I examined my feelings more. I added a sarcastic, “Good boy,” and patted him on the head.

He snorted. “Not exactly my kink, but I appreciate the effort.”

I pointed him toward my open bedroom door, and he walked me in, turning sideways as he carefully stepped through the doorway, another way he unconsciously took care of me as he made every effort not to hurt me in the slightest.

He laid me gently in the bed and positioned himself beside me, leaning his head over mine. Those beautiful hazel eyes looked into mine.

“In the morning we’ll go over all your information and combine our investigations, okay?”

I nodded, having forgotten what originally brought him to my home.

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