Page 122 of Lucas
He smacks my ass again, the sharp sound echoing in the room.
Fuck, that’s more enjoyable than I expected.
His fingers skim over my buttocks, then dip between my thighs.
I suck in a sharp breath as he pushes my panties aside, and his finger slips inside me. Then he crooks it just so, and I see stars, pleasure rioting through my nerve endings.
“God, yes,” I moan again, the sounds torn from my throat as he strokes that perfect spot inside me.
“Your filthy mouth is full of lies.” Lucas leans forward and whispers, his teeth catching the shell of my ear, “But your pussy doesn’t lie to me. It didn’t lie to me yesterday, and it’s not lying to me now.”
“What’s it telling you?” I gasp, my hips rocking back into his touch, seeking more friction, more fullness.
“That it loves this. That you’re enjoying what I’m doing to you. That you want more.”
I rise on my knees, writhing beneath him, clenching my thighs together, but it only intensifies the sensation. “Lucas, I can’t.”
My moans grow louder, more desperate as he works me over, building the pressure at the base of my spine to an unbearable pitch.
“You can, Wifey.” He rises and rubs his cock between the globes of my ass, then withdraws his fingers and thrusts inside me in one smooth glide.
I cry out, my back arching as he fills me, stretches me.
“You take me so beautifully.” His thighs bracket mine, and his fingers dig into my hips, holding me steady as he moves. “So fucking beautifully.”
He sets a relentless pace, hammering into me, the force of his thrusts driving me into the mattress. I can do nothing but call his name, pleasure and pain blurring into an exquisite ache that consumes me.
“You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel you tightening around me, milking me. I fucking love it,” he grunts, his rhythm faltering as his own climax approaches. “Come on my cock, Wifey. Show me how much your pussy loves my dick.”
When he smacks my ass again, I shatter with a shriek, my body splintering into a thousand glittering shards that scatter through the air. Euphoria crashes over me in wave after wave, obliterating everything else until nothing remains but the pulsing ecstasy, the feeling of him buried deep inside me as he finds his own release with a hoarse shout.
I drift down from the high, the shards coalescing back into the shape of my body, limp and sated.
We lie in silence, letting our racing hearts slow, our heaving breaths even out.
“Okay,” I say while he’s still nestled inside me, his comforting weight blanketing me. “I’m willing to admit I’m kind of fond of your dick.”
“And I am fond of you,” he whispers back, nuzzling his face into my hair. “More than fond.”
My chest constricts, a swell of warmth enveloping me at his words. Then I remind myself that men will say anything during sex. “It’s okay, you don’t have to lie. You don’t need to say things like that to get sex from me. We have an arrangement, remember?”
He stiffens and pulls out of me, rolling to the side. “I’m not lying.”
“Really, you don’t have to pretend for my sake. We’rehaving fun together, and that’s it. That’s enough.” I tug the sheet up to cover myself, suddenly feeling exposed.
He gets up and yanks on his pants, his movements sharp.
I sit up, clutching the sheet to my chest, confusion and apprehension swirling in my gut. “What’s wrong? Are you angry?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m going for a run.” He strides out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him with a reverberating bang.
I stare after him, my heart sinking like a stone. What just happened? One minute we were basking in the afterglow, and the next, he’s storming out like I’ve offended him.
I flop back on the bed and throw an arm over my eyes, a heavy sigh gusting past my lips.
Chapter Thirty-One
AVA
