Page 129 of Texting, Trouble & Touchdowns
Slow.
Thick stretch. Delicious pressure. My nails dig into his shoulders, and I gasp as he sinks into me inch by inch. My body welcomes him. Gripping, sucking him in like it was made for this. For him.
“Oh, oh, Lucian,” I moan.
Lucian groans, deep and filthy. “Fuck, you’re tight. You feel that, baby? How good you’re squeezing my cock already?”
I nod, my head falling back against the wall.
He starts to move.
Not fast. Not yet.
He thrusts slow, long strokes that fill me completely, making me feel every inch of him. One hand grips my ass, the other cradles my thigh, keeping me wrapped around him like his personal fucking obsession.
“You were dripping for me in the kitchen,” he mutters, mouth at my jaw, voice rough. “Taking that spatula like my good girl. Now you’re begging to be filled? Huh? That greedy little cunt finally getting what it wants?”
“Yes,” I pant. “Lucian, yes. Harder. Please?—”
He growls again and slams into me harder, the slap of skin against skin echoing through the hallway.
“You wanted to ruin me?” he snarls. “Congratulations, baby. You fucking did.”
His hips slam into mine again, deeper this time, and I feel it in my throat. The hallway disappears. My name might not even exist anymore. I’m just body and breath and Lucian.
“You wanted to be fucked like this,” he growls, his lips brushing my ear as he pistons into me. “You begged for my cock, and now you’ve got it.”
I gasp, clutching his shoulders. “Lucian?—”
“This tight little pussy’s mine right now,” he snarls. “You feel how it hugs me? Like it fucking knows me.”
I can’t even answer. I’m gone. I’m melting, stretching around every deep thrust. He knows precisely where to angle his hips—where to drag his cock to make my nerves catch fire.
“You wanted me wrecked?” he pants. “You wanted to ruin me? Then take it. Fucking take it, Olivia.”
And I do.
God, I do.
I rock against him, matching his rhythm, the wet sound of him sliding into me obscene and perfect. My body clings to him, all sweat and skin, and that pressure builds in me like something coiled too tight for too long.
His thumb moves between us, circling my clit with quick, practiced flicks.
“You gonna come for me?” he whispers. “You gonna milk my cock like the good girl you are?”
I shatter.
It rolls through me with no warning—just this punch of pleasure that has me jerking in his arms, moaning so loud I might’ve screamed his name. My muscles clamp around him, and I feel it—really feel it—the way he keeps fucking me through it, every thrust deeper, rougher, sending aftershocks through my entire body.
“Oh my God—Lucian—fuck?—”
“That’s it,” he groans, voice strained. “Come on my cock. Fucking soak me. That’s it, baby?—”
And then he goes still.
His hips jerk once, twice—and then I feel it.
Hot. Deep. His cock throbbing inside me as he spills into me with a guttural moan against my neck.
