Page 69 of One More Time
Lucy smiled against his cheek. ‘Old stagediving injury?’ she teased.
‘The mosh pits weren’t gentle, Lou.’ He laughed.
Something about the nickname, something no one elsehad ever called her, made Lucy want to wrap herself around him and never let go. But that was crazy, and impossible. So, instead, she pressed a kiss to his cheek.
‘Come on,’ she said, taking his hand and standing. ‘We’re too old for chair sex anyway.’
‘Take that back,’ he quipped, even as he grumbled himself to his feet.
The bedroom was cool, with shadows painted in sharp relief by the sliver of summer sunlight peeking through a gap in the curtains. The low hum of the air conditioning was the only sound aside from their heavy breathing.
Nicky slithered his fingers under the hem of Lucy’s Foo Fighters T-shirt and whipped it over her head. He mumbled, ‘Losing Grohl’s number.’
Lucy just grinned.
Nicky slipped out of his own shirt, revealing those unbelievable abs and the ink that made Lucy’s mouth water. This had her unclipping her bra and shucking the rest of her clothes off double-quick.
She crawled onto the bed, looking over her shoulder when Nicky hissed, ‘You’re fucking gorgeous.’
Lucy knew that the worst of her cellulite and stretch marks were on full display in that position, but believed every word from Nicky’s mouth as he gazed at her with unvarnished awe, stroking his stiff cock slowly – truly enjoying the show.
She lay on her back, torn between wanting to hurry him closer and enjoying the pure carnal decadence of watching him make long, slow pulls on his erection while looking at her.
Lucy didn’t get to enjoy the performance for long, though. Nicky climbed up on the bed, impatience in his every movement.
He pressed his lips to the inside of her ankle. Licked a path up her calf. Switched to the other leg and nipped softly at the inside of her thigh, then exhaled a heated sigh against the thin skin at her hip.
Nicky found a sensitive spot at the dip of her waist, and lingered there, making her squirm. He spent ages laving the sharp peaks of her breasts, sucking and swirling his tongue until Lucy’s breath was ragged and she could feel the wetness between her thighs dripping to the sheets beneath her.
He worshiped her with his mouth, with the languid trip of his fingers over her flesh. Touching everything. Venerating every inch of her.
It didn’t feel casual. Or temporary. Or any of the other words she had repeated to herself. The sensation deep in her chest wasn’t some blasé thing she could explain away. It felt as though her heart was breaking apart and remaking itself. As though Nicky Broome was altering her damn DNA.
When his libidinous tour reached her neck, Lucy canted her hips, seeking out the contact that he’d been withholding.
She gasped as he sucked on the tender skin below her ear. She caught a trace of that unique Nicky smell, then pushed her nose into his tumbled brown locks to take in a deep draft of the addictive salty sea-breeze essence of him.
‘Nicky,’ she unabashedly pleaded, clawing at his back and pressing her hips up to meet his. ‘Need you.’
He looked down at her, as he finally gave her the friction she’d been seeking. The length of him, the steel and the velvet of it, effortlessly parted her folds and found her molten center. He pushed forward, one tantalizing inch.
Nicky hooked his arms under Lucy’s, the full, solid weight of him pressing into her chest and abdomen. She felt surrounded by him, claimed and adored.
His eyes zeroed in on hers, lust-filled and fierce. He panted, ‘You were wrong about one thing, Lucy.’
Nicky’s hips tilted again, bringing him further inside her, but not far enough. Lucy could only groan in frustration and want.
He continued, ‘The song was neveraboutyou.’ He slammed his pelvis to hers. The pleasure and relief of it made her eyes water. Had her spreading her legs as far as they would go. To take more of him. All of him. ‘It wasforyou.’
She gasped. At his words, at their earnestness – begging her to understand. And, as he pulled back and slid home once again, she gasped once more, at the mastery he had over her body. She was powerless to it. Lost.
‘Foryou,’ he grunted. ‘Foryou.Foryou,’ he rasped, punctuating each declaration with a thrust of his hips. ‘Every time I’ve sung it. A hundred, five hundred, a thousand times. Each one. Foryou.’
Lucy’s orgasm struck without warning. No gently building preamble. No chasing. It just smashed into her, blasting away the few remaining shards of her rational thought. She was a live wire, exposed and uncontrollable.Her body quaked and she screamed his name. The muscles deep inside her, electrified and pulsing, clutched at Nicky’s cock drawing him even impossibly deeper.
‘Fuck. Oh,fuck,’ he groaned.
The scrape of his skin over her still-hard nipples sent further waves of pleasure coursing through Lucy’s body as the movement of Nicky’s hips grew erratic and frenzied.
