Page 7 of My Pucking Valentine

I don’t give her the chance to respond. Instead, I drop my hand and reach for the hem of her hoodie before I fist the fabric and gently glide it up and over her head. Tossing the bulky sweatshirt on the floor, I break the kiss and look down at her bare tits.

Goddamn perfection.

Lowering my head, I keep my gaze on hers as I open my mouth and take her breast into my mouth, or as much of it as I possibly can. Clara’s eyes instantly slide closed as her back arches. I feel her fingers slide through my hair as she grasps the strands there to hold me closer to her tit.

Fucking perfection all over again.

Everything about Clara is beautifully perfect as if she was made just for me. But would we have to live a life in secret if that were true? If she were truly made just for me, would this be as wrong as we both know it is?

Ignoring my own intrusive thoughts, I choose to focus on Clara’s body. Which, honestly, I enjoy much more than thinking about our predicament. Swirling my tongue around her nipple, I release her tit with a pop before I move over to the other one and give it my full attention.

“Luke,” she whimpers above me, her fingers tightening in my hair.

I know she enjoys my mouth on her here, but she’d prefer it elsewhere. I don’t blame her. I want it to be somewhere else, too. Releasing her tit, I move down to the floor, my knees sinking into the carpet beneath me.

Clara’s fingers relax in my hair, but she doesn’t release her grasp completely. Curling my fingers around the waist of her sweats, I gently glide them down her legs. “Step out,” I demand.

Thankfully, she follows my demand and doesn’t fight me on it. She wants this as much as I do. And I fucking want it—badly. So goddamn badly that I can taste it. I slide my fingers down the back of her thigh, dancing them down the back of her knee, then gently pick up her leg and place it over my shoulder.

“Luke,” she exhales.

Smiling, I flatten my tongue and slide it along the entire length of her pussy. Her thighs tremble beside my face, and I know I’m home. Swirling my tongue around her clit, I gently suck on the sweet bundle of nerves there before I begin to devour her.

And devouring is exactly what I do.

Closing my eyes, I enjoy every second of my mouth between her legs. It’s fucking heaven and what I needed after the win of the game and the stress of the bar. Her fingers grip my hair tighter. She could pull it out by the roots, and I wouldn't stop what I'm doing right now.

Her entire body shudders, and I know she’s close. I want her to come on my tongue. I need to taste her, to feel her, to consume her. Her hips jerk as I slide two fingers inside of her.

It only takes me two come-hither motions with my fingers to take her there. Moaning, I accept every fucking ounce of her, licking her until every last drop is on my tongue, and then I swallow before I stand to my feet.

Wrapping my fingers around her waist, I wordlessly carry Clara over to her bed and lay her down before I undress and climb between her legs. Instead of slamming inside of her the way my body craves, I reach out and slide my fingers down the center of her throat until her eyes open and connect with my own.

“Forget everything bad that happened tonight,” I murmur. “This moment is all that matters. It’s all that’s ever mattered.”

Slanting my head to the side, I touch my mouth to hers and kiss her—hard. At the same time, I slam inside of her, burying myself to the root before I still so her body can adjust to mine.

Clara lifts her legs, wrapping them around my hips, pulling me closer to her body. Lowering onto my elbows, I cage the side of her head and run my nose alongside hers before I touch my lips to hers again.

“There is only you and me when we’re here like this, baby. And this is all that matters. We cannot let the outside world in here.”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “That’s so much easier said than done,” she whispers. “I know this is all we can be, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting more.”

With a hum, I slide my tongue along the seam of her lips. “I know, baby.”

No more words are said. They don’t need to be. There is only us, and we are the only ones who mean a goddamn thing. The rest of the world can fade the fuck away. They don’t matter. Not in the end.

In the end, there is only Clara and me.

SEVEN

LUKE

When I leaveClara’s bed, every step that takes me farther from her, I regret. But I can’t stay. She knows that as well as I do. Goddamn. What a fucking Valentine’s Day. Maybe I should take a deep look inside of myself for this shittastic day because most of this was without a doubt epically avoidable by me.

The two roommates are sitting in the living room when I tiptoe out of the hallway, and the moment they hear me, their heads whip up, and their gazes land on me. Neither of them friendly.

“What the hell happened?” Sarah asks with a hiss.

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