Page 49 of Memories with Fire

Putting a hand at the small of my back, he directs me in front of him towards the bathroom. I comply easily, the bathroom ten degrees warmer than his bedroom as I step inside. When he closes the door, I know it’ll get even warmer.

Luke’s hands are at my hips, moving me in front of the vanity. The bathroom itself is as gorgeous as the downstairs. Double sinks line one wall, a stand-alone bathtub, that has a frosted window above it, along another. What really catches my eye, however, is the large, glass-enclosed, walk-in shower big enough for more than just the two of us. A bench runs along the width of it where one of two showerheads is pointing.

“That shower?—”

“We’ll get there,” he cuts me off.

The words force my eyes to the mirror where they meet his. From here they look deep blue, swimming with arousal and need. Where he’s positioned me, I can see myself from the knees up, which means I can see what he’s doing as well.

With the look he’s giving me, a shiver that has nothing to do with being cold runs down my spine. I’m tingling all over as his hands slide from my hips to the front of the sweatpants I’m wearing. A pair I also borrowed from Luke, clothes that were in his Jeep in place of my wet ones. He pulls the string on them and they fall to the ground without any assistance.

I hear his sharp intake as he peers at me through the mirror. He may have guessed I didn’t have a bra on, but he couldn’t have known that my underwear were gone as well. They were soaked from the rain and all I wanted was to be dry. If I was wearing them now, they’d be soaked for a different reason.

“Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, more to himself than me.

It warms me from the inside out. He doesn’t need to say the words. The way he looks at me tells me how he feels. His eyes don’t stop roaming over my body, drinking in every inch of it. When Luke looks at me like this, all I see is a man who can’t believe what’s in front of him is his. There’s such devotion in his eyes that I want to melt into a puddle on the bathroom floor.

I start to turn towards him, but he catches my hips to still me, his attention moving to meet my eyes. There’s a flash of heat, maybe even a tinge of annoyance that I would dare move while he was devouring me. “Don’t move.”

“Okay,” I whisper, standing with my arms at my sides.

His eyes start to rove again, then stop when they catch sight of the necklace hanging around my neck. Recognition flashes across his face, his eyes flicking to mine before he takes the pendant in his hand and moves it around the chain so he can see it over my shoulder. A shuddery breath breaks free of him, and he lays his forehead against my neck, holding the delicate accessory between his fingers.

“You kept it.” His voice shakes with thick emotion.

“I could never get over you, Luke. Never-ending is just that.”

When he lifts his head, he smiles at me, disbelief swimming in his eyes. “I want you to watch. Don’t close your eyes for a second.”

His words send a thrill shooting through me. I watch in the mirror as he releases the necklace and slowly slides his hand down my body. My nipples are hard peaks, but he doesn’t touch them, and for now I don’t care. I don’t know how I could when his fingers slide straight to my center, dancing along the delicate skin there. Electricity bursts through me, my body jerking in reaction to him. I manage to force my eyes to stay open instead of rolling into the back of my head from that one little touch.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this pussy in the last ten years?” he murmurs in my ear, his finger brushing, barely, over my clit. “How many times I’ve jerked off to the thought of you?”

My hips dip, seeking him out, seeking more of his touch. Seeking him. I’m breathless as I whisper, “How many?”

“Countless, Freckles. So many fucking times.”

His nose runs along the column of my neck, creating a shiver that races deliciously down my spine. It’s erotic as hell to watch him in the mirror, to see his fingers move lower, disappearing from my view. One slides between the lips of my pussy, and I groan as I feel him at my entrance, slowly pushing inside of me. When he twirls his finger around, I rock back against his body, my head dropping to his shoulder as he pulls back out. His fingers reappear, making another slow roll across my clit, my hips pushing forward, again looking for more.

I can hardly breathe when he swipes across the little bundle of nerves over and over, making me feel weak in the knees.

“Grab your nipples, baby,” he whispers in my ear.

Luke telling me what to do has a rush of heat spreading through me. Our time might have been short together, but he figured out rather quickly that I melted every time he told me to do something. Nothing has changed, except the years between us.

Doing as I’m told, I take hold of my nipples, and because I know what he wants me to do, I pull and twist. I’m rewarded when he groans and slides his hand back between my legs. Using his free hand, he presses it against my belly, pulling me tight to his body. His erection pulses against the top of my ass, which adds to the arousal dripping from my center.

Two thick fingers plunge deep into me then, and I cry out at the sudden intrusion, but he gives me no time to adjust before he curls them and starts working them in and out. Pleasure erupts within me, and I writhe against him, his name dancing on my tongue. The difference between his slow, languid movements, to what he’s doing now, makes my head spin, my body burn, and I know I’m about to break apart at the seams.

But I can’t. Not yet. Not until…

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Pull your nipples again, baby,” he mumbles into my ear, and I know he knows I’m right there.

My body tightening, the room narrowing, my pulse pounding. I can’t hold onto the building orgasm much longer, don’t want to hold onto it, not when it’s something I’ve only dreamed of for years. But I can’t—won’t—let go until he tells me.

Without warning, his fingers withdraw from inside of me, and he’s back at my clit, like he knows it’s the thing I need to go over the edge. His lips are at my ear, his teeth nipping as he grants the permission I’ve needed.

“Come for me.”

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