Page 47 of Because the Night

With one hard thrust, he buries himself deep. And there’s a lot of him.

A squeak of surprise escapes my throat. The length is blissfully fine, but the width requires a moment to adjust. His face is stark with need, his gaze glued to mine as he holds perfectly still. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I officially have no words—which might be a first.

He nods. Happy with whatever he sees in my expression. One hand has a tight grip on my hair while the other has an equallyfirm grip on an ass cheek. He’s in the perfect position to do as he wants with me. And that is exactly what he does. Lucas fucks me with brutal efficiency. I have to wrap my legs around his waist and grip the sides of the desk to stop him from driving us both off the damn end and onto the floor.

His hips piston, burying his hard length deep, time and again. My hard nipples rub against his strong chest through the lace of my bra. The way the delicious friction is building me right back up again is almost sinful. Coming twice in one night has happened to me approximately never. Not with someone else involved. But the blood is rushing through me, hot and sweet. The pressure is gathering in a tight ball low in my belly and back. All of me is focused on the knot of tension between my hips.

The blue of his eyes is my whole world—the beginning, the end, and everything after. It’s like I am lost, and it doesn’t even occur to me to care.

I know he’s getting close when he presses his face into my neck. A sign that he can’t control himself for much longer. Which is fair enough. He hasn’t had sex in over seventy years. His grip on my ass tightens and he lifts me just a little. Just enough to have the wide, blunt head of his cock start hitting a beautiful spot deep inside of me. Making me light up from top to toe.

When it comes to fucking, the man is magic. No joke. Never have I been so thoroughly railed. Being with Lucas is like an out-of-body experience.

The sound of wood cracking and splintering as I come is loud. My heart is stuck in my throat, and all I can manage is a moan. But my internal muscles lock on him, trying to keep him deep. The feeling of coming with him inside me is just so sweet and strong.

His roar as he comes echoes through the room. Maybe the whole damn house. That noise shakes my soul, I have never heard anything like it. His hips buck against me a couple of timesbefore he finally stills. For a while, his eyelids remain shut tight, but eventually he opens them.

And we stare at each other warily for a good long time. Completely awkward as fuck.

“You once banned me from your office for a decade for daring to sit on the edge of your desk,” says Henry. “What Skye just did was much worse.”

We’re gathered in the living room. I grabbed a fresh tee to wear, but Lucas didn’t bother. The reason why soon became obvious. He sits in his throne-like black wingback while Benedict sits on a stool to the side. With a blade and a pair of needle-nose pliers, he goes about the business of digging a bullet out of Lucas’ shoulder. As you do. The chandelier has even been turned on for the sake of the surgery, the crystals dazzling in their beauty. I do my best to stare at it instead of the gory display occurring nearby.

Life sure comes at you fast some nights. Honestly.

“She tore off the decorative, hand-carved mahogany siding,” the blond idiot continues. “Just crushed it into splinters.”

“Shut up, Henry,” says Lucas with a wince.

“You need to sit still,” grumbles Benedict.

Henry holds up his hands all innocent like. “I’m just saying. The favoritism is starting to get a little bit out of control.”

And as for me, I am frowning my heart out. The good vibes from coming hard enough to see whole constellations are long gone. Given Lucas had been tearing out hearts and torturing people, it’s not like I would have noticed a little blood and ash on the man. But it is fair to say that Lucas walking around witha bullet in his body since we were fired on in the hallway at the start of the night is freaking me right the fuck out.

The fact that he got shot while protecting me is also taking a moment to process. He stood in front of me and took a bullet. I don’t know what to do with the information. How to feel about all of this. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”

“We had more pressing issues to attend to,” says Lucas, calm as always.

“You had a bullet in you. What if I had grabbed hold of your shoulder or something?”

“I probably would have mentioned it then.”

“Be still.” Benedict roots around with the pliers. So gross. Our advanced healing means the skin and flesh keep adhering to the tools. He carefully starts pulling the pliers free of the messy wound. “There we go. It is all in one piece.”

Lucas sneers in disdain at the blood-covered wooden bullet.

“It’s a whole new level of kink, really.” Henry shakes his head in wonder. “Having sex with a bullet lodged in your shoulder. Your strength and tolerance for pain are ridiculous, Father.”

“I would have cried like a baby,” says the Viking. “It would not be appealing for a lover to see.”

“Oh, me, too,” agrees Henry. “But I, for one, salute the way Father’s thirst overcame his common sense.”

“My thirst?” asks Lucas.

“Your yearning, shall we say, for our darling Skye.”

“Ah,” says Lucas with understanding. “Shut up, Henry.”

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