Page 60 of Until the End of Ever
“I, what?” I prompted, pleased as punch after a job very well done.
“You menace. You marvel. Take your pick.” He chuckled, tipping my chin forward. His thumb brushed my lips as he cocked an eyebrow. “Is this how you plan to settle every argument?”
I batted my lashes innocently. “Depends. Will it work?”
“Absolutely, always,” he retorted, lowering himself on all four, right above me.
I knew what he was up to when his gaze dipped to my bare crotch.
He was supposed to get Elias to school. I was supposed to tell him to go.
I didn’t. “And here I thought we weren’t supposed to use words like ‘always’ and ‘ever.’”
“Youaren’t, trouble. I, on the other hand, know exactly what I’m talking about.”
I decided that violence was the answer, and tossed the nearest pillow right at his head.
Lucian might be older, but he only had four years on me, not four hundred. He didn’t get to act like he was a wise sage.
Naturally, the dick moved fast enough to evade the projectile, all the while lifting my legs up.
“If you get to spout nonsense while naked, so do—”I.I meant to say I. Except he curved two fingers inside my folds, and what came out of me was closer to a moan.
“So very wet,” he noted, thumb circling my clit, as his fingers moved right where I needed them. “And no. The difference is, I mean my nonsense, Valesco.”
This time, grabbing his pillow, I swatter his shoulder with it. “So do I—argh!”
Within instants, his fingers were gone, replaced by his full length, completely seated inside me in one smooth move. I let go of the pillow. He smirked, knowing he’d won, lifting my legs higher.
The angle of each thrust was precisely calculated to drive me insane. Frankly, it was a miracle I managed not to completely lose it the third time he hit my G-spot. By sheer force of will, all while screaming bloody murder, I lasted perhaps two minutes. Lucian kept fucking me through my first orgasm, slow and steady, unrelentingly aiming for the battered, sensitive nub inside me, and before I knew what was happening, I was clinging to him, screaming, and losing focus a second time.
At that point, he anchored himself to the bed frame and started to pound me into the mattress. It occurred to me that he’d been holding back until I’d flooded and clenched around his cock twice. Now, he chased his own pleasure.
I scratched his shoulders in my desperation to hold on. I screamed nonsense, demanding more, and perhaps purposely yelling something not unlike forever, until he shut me up with his mouth.
I was fairly certain I blacked out, only coming to as my body yet again started to convulse underneath his.
Somehow, I survived.
Lucian, the picture of health and sanity, barely winded, scooped me up into his arms and brought me to the en suite, lowering me into an empty tub before filling it with delicious warmth.
I only regained my senses when he was lathering soft foam onto my skin. “Elias—don’t you have to go?”
“No,” he replied, completely engrossed in his task. I thought he wasn’t going to elaborate, as he waited until he’d washed my entire back before saying, “Wehave to go. I talked to Ronan yesterday. We need help—fresh ideas, an outside perspective. There are a lot of very clever minds in the university. Young kids, used to learning, thinking, theorizing. I asked him to prepare a think tank for our situation.”
I sat up, frowning. “You’re sure that’s wise? To let a bunch of kids know?—”
“We’ll present it as a theoretical problem. It is a school, after all.”
I let the idea run through my mind for a moment, and slowly nodded. It couldn’t hurt. “So shouldn’t we get going?”
“I can cast a chrono-spell, you know. One of my earliest skills. I’ve always been one to stay asleep until the last possibleminute.” Lucian leered at me. “Mother wisely woke us up at ten. We’re expected at one.”
I gasped. “A chrono-spell. That’s a thing?”
He snapped his fingers, and the blue ghost of a clock floated above his fingers, showing eleven fifty-three. “Kronubeatus,” he told me, waving his hand to let the mist vanish. “I’m familiar with it, so I just think it, and the time appears in my head. That’s how I visualize it—like Cassius’s clock. It’ll come to you in whatever form is the most natural.”
“Kronubeatus,” I repeated slowly, releasing a small amount of energy. My clock was numeral, the golden numbers floating in front of my eyes, in the same script as the display on my phone. “Neat. Did you create it?”
