Page 18 of Vicious Vows

His mouth moves from mine, trailing kisses along my jawline, down my neck and across my collarbone. I feel the shivers ignite again, a different kind of anticipation curling low in my belly as he takes his time, exploring every inch with lips and tongue andteeth. His hands are firm on my waist, holding me up when I feel like I might crumple.

The bathroom is filled with soft gasps and faint echoes of water dripping from the faucet. All else is lost in the torrent of our breaths mingling together.

Luke lifts me with ease, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. I feel the cold porcelain against my back as he places me on the vanity. A gasp escapes my lips as he unbuttons his pants, letting them drop to the floor along with his boxers. His body is another tantalizing sculpture in this dimly lit room, each muscle tensed, ready to claim me in ways I never imagined.

He uses one hand to guide himself to my entrance and another to keep me steady as he pushes into me slowly, inch by tantalizing inch. My nails dig into his biceps, anticipating the exquisite pleasure that’s about to unfold.

Someone jiggles the handle, but we both ignore it. No one is interrupting this moment between us. Our eyes are locked, and anticipation builds inside my groin as I wait for him to really enjoy me.

He stills, allowing me a moment to adjust before he begins moving. Each stroke is slow, measured, as if he’s savoring every second, every gasp and whimper that escapes my lips. The rhythm he sets is torturously slow, pushing me to the edge, only to pull back again and again. It’s a delicious torment, a dance of push and pull that has me writhing around him, hands clawing at his broad back.

"Luke…" I whimper his name again, but this time, it's not a plea for mercy. It's a plea for more. More of his touch, moreof his warmth, more of this ecstasy that has captured me so completely.

He groans in response, the sound guttural and rough, reverberating through his chest and into my skin. His pace quickens, the pleasure escalating with each thrust. I moan, matching his rhythm, my hips grinding against his. His hand finds my clit, fingers working in a maddening rhythm that is pushing me toward the edge once more.

He pumps into me harder now, faster. I can feel every inch of him inside me, filling me. He hits a spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids, and a guttural scream escapes my throat. His name. Only his. Over and over again.

"Luke, Luke..."

"Say it again," he growls, pushing deeper, harder in response to my pleas. The bathroom door rattles again, but we pay it no mind. This world—the porcelain under my hands and his body pressed against mine—are the only things that matter now.

And then he pushes me over the edge once again, his movements growing frantic as I tighten around him. My back arches, legs quivering around his waist as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me. He is relentless, his fingers still working their magic on my clit even as the climax is shaking me to my core. His hot breath fans over my face as he peppers kisses along my throat, whispering words of possession and desire that further fuel the pleasure coursing through me.

“Mine,” he growls, his voice ragged with desire, “only mine.”

“Yes, yes!” My voice is a broken whimper as the orgasm tears me apart, leaving me a trembling wreck in his arms. Yet, he doesn’tstop. He keeps moving inside me, riding out my climax with heavy thrusts that have me gasping for breath.

When it finally ebbs away, I find myself clinging to him, my heart pounding in my chest. My fingers trace the thick cords of muscle on his back through his shirt, now damp with sweat.

He presses me closer into him, our bodies entwined as he rides out his own climax. His breath hitches, a low groan rumbling deep within his chest as he buries himself deeper inside me, surrendering himself to the waves of pleasure that rack his body.

"God... Micah," he breathes out, the words a whisper against my skin. His hold on me tightens briefly before it slackens, his body relaxing against mine.

For a moment, we lean on each other, out of breath and panting. Luke isn’t exactly who I thought he was. I never thought him capable of any benevolence or kindness, but if he follows through on his spoken word this evening, it would redeem at least some of the negative qualities I’ve seen in him. Still, he’s the head of a major crime syndicate, and what does that make me?

“Let’s eat before our food is cold,” he says, kissing my cheek. He pulls out, and his sex drains from my body, dripping to the floor between his feet. He grabs a handful of paper towels and thrusts them in my direction before putting his dick back inside his pants and fixing them.

I wipe myself clean and slide off the vanity, careful not to tip it over. Then I fix my dress and bend to retrieve my panties, but he growls, “Leave them,” as he grabs my wrist. I pause, staring at the lacy fabric, wondering what any man who comes in here next will think, and my cheeks warm.

“But…” I protest, but he pulls me upright and gently grips my chin then winks at me.

“Leave. Them.” He punctuates both words as if it’s a command and slides his hand lower on my arm to lace his fingers between mine.

As we walk out, I glance down at the panties once more, then turn to follow him, and in the hallway outside the bathroom, we pass a line of men waiting to use the toilet. Each of them looks me up and down like I’m a cheap whore they can purchase next. Luke draws me along, sliding his hand into the small of my back possessively, and leads me to our table under the stares of everyone in the room.

I’m not sure if I like feeling like a possession, but I love the way he makes me feel. And if someone is going to steal from criminal organizations, why not me? And if someone like Luke is going to have as much money as he has, who better to distribute part of that to a very worthy cause than me? It’s not ideal, but I can accept that.

I just don’t know how much I really accept this marriage. Sex is good, but there is more to a relationship than amazing sex. I need security and safety. Luke likes to live dangerously, and maybe it’s just too dangerous for me.

Only time will tell.

14

LUKE

Smoke rings rise toward the ceiling of my office in the casino as the interior decorator waltzes around the room with her fancy tablet open. I suck on the cigar and nod at her, indicating that Vic should watch what she’s doing as she holds her tablet up and presses the screen. The damn thing is so high-tech it has an app for measuring space and distance in real time. She moves it slowly, pointed at one corner of the room and along the entire wall until she reaches the far side, then presses the screen again.

“Impressive,” he says sarcastically, and I must agree. The new technology they have has replaced some very basic principles in design and architecture with machines that can fail and glitch. I’m not sure I like it, though I do very much enjoy the work Micah does with her form of tech.

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