Page 32 of Drum Me Away
Lucas wrapped one arm around my back while his other hand cupped my face, and without breaking contact, he twisted me until my ass pressed against the counter. And then both hands were on my thighs and he sat me on the wooden slab, still without breaking that kiss.
Eagerly, I spread my legs, and he slipped between them, that tantalizing erection pressing exactly where it felt best. I fidgeted, rolling my hips, and moaned into his mouth.
He grabbed my ass, holding me more firmly against him, and finally broke the kiss to trail his lips along my cheek to my ear and down the column of my throat. I arched, canting my head, giving him all the access he needed. I was an open book; he could read every page, absorb everything I had to give.
I wanted him to take all of me.
His hands found the hem of my shirt, and he flipped it over my head, pausing to stare at my breasts, encased in turquoise lace and satin. I shivered when he traced the scalloped edge from the top swell of one breast down into my cleavage and back up the other. He slid his finger under a strap and tugged it down my arm before doing the same to the other.
With his gaze on the mirror, he unhooked my bra, and the contraption fell. I felt him trace a design on my back—the intricate tattoo that traveled the length of my spine.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, watching his own hand in the mirror.
I cupped his face, drawing his attention. “So are you.” And then I kissed him, probably a little aggressively, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted him.
I needed him.
This moment, it was like a dam had been broken, or maybe I’d broken the dam on purpose and now all I wanted to do was swim in the newly formed river and never leave.
I rolled my hips, mimicking sex while attempting to wish away the clothing between us. He broke the kiss and leaned back, palming my breasts, dragging his thumbs over the sensitive peaks. I gasped and arched, and he obligingly bent and sucked one of my nipples into his mouth. Dear God, I’d never felt anything so exquisite, so perfect, in all of my life. He swirled his tongue ’round and ’round and then bit down gently, and my orgasm began to build in earnest. Except he’d moved his body just far enough away that I couldn’t rub against his erection like a cat, which most definitely would have sent me over the edge.
Frustrated, I grabbed the front of his towel. With my urgent tug, it fell from his hips and pooled at his feet, and I unabashedly dropped my gaze to take in the fabulousness that was Lucas Lloyd’s cock. It looked almost angry, the way it twitched and bounced against his abdomen, but when I touched it, it felt like velvet.
He hissed and released my nipple with a pop as he backed out of my grasp.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“You—this—it’s all too much. If you keep touching me, I’m going to lose it all over your hand, and I’d rather be inside you when that happ—”
His face fell.
“What?” I stared at him, at the spark in his eyes that was suddenly dimming. What the hell just happened?
“I don’t have any condoms,” he said, sounding like he was being forced to admit he cheated on a test.
I blinked rapidly. “You don’t carry them around in your toiletry bag like literally every other guy in the world?”
“Faith, we’ve been fake dating for the last four years.”
“Yeah, fake being the key word here.”
He snorted. “We’re constantly under a microscope. If I hooked up with someone else, it would be splashed all over social media. It would be the biggest scandal of the decade.”
He was right. In fact, that could have been the perfect way to break up our fake relationship, although I was definitely grateful Dahlia hadn’t thought to go that route.
“Wait,” I said, “are you telling me you haven’t slept with anyone since we started fake dating?”
Holy shit.
“Are you telling me you have?” he shot back, and just like that, we were on even footing.
I cleared my throat. “I have not.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“But I am protected.”
“You’re on the pill?”
