Page 156 of Lucas
His heated gaze darts from the road to me and back again, his full lips parting on a low groan as one long finger delves under the lace and finds my slick folds. “Fuck, Ava.”
I’m not the only one affected. The impressive bulge straining against his zipper is proof of that. He eases off the gas, slowing our speed.
“God, you’re so wet,” he rasps, sliding his middle finger through my soaked slit. He pulls his hand out and brings the glistening digit to his mouth, sucking it clean. His eyes flutter shut in bliss. “Mmmm. Better than I remembered.”
“You’re going to crash us,” I shriek. “Watch the road.”
He grins, unrepentant. “Dying with the taste of your sweet pussy on my lips seems like a fantastic way to go.” He returns his hand to my pants, his finger once again seeking my swollen clit. He finds the aching little bud and circles it.
I cry out, my head thumping back against the headrest.
It’s been too damn long since he touched me like this. Since I felt the wicked mastery of his hands on my body. And God, how I’ve missed him. Missed this.
“Make me forget, Lucas,” I plead. “Make me scream.”
He licks his lips. “I can pull over.”
“No, don’t stop. Like this.” I’m exhilarated by the thrill, the danger. I didn’t think I’d enjoy it this much.
He nods, the muscles of his jaw clenching as he reins himself in. “Pull your jeans down, baby. Give me some room to work.”
I wriggle the tight denim down to mid-thigh. Cool air hits my heated flesh, and I shiver. But it’s nothing compared to the full body shudder as his fingers return to my bare pussy.
He explores me leisurely, teasingly, swirling around my clit before dipping lower. “I could do this all day,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Touch you, taste you, breathe you in. Fuck, Ava. The way you respond to me, it’s everything. You’re everything to me.”
On a tortured groan, he sinks one long, thick finger into me while his thumb massages my clit in tight circles. “I need to be inside you. It’s been too long since I’ve felt your perfect little cunt squeezing me.”
His dirty words make me burn hotter, stoking the already raging flames. I squeeze my inner muscles around his probing finger in silent demand. “More,” I gasp out. “I need more of you.”
Lucas curses under his breath but complies, adding a second finger, then a third, fucking them in and out of my slick heat. His thumb never stops circling and flicking my bundle of nerves, driving me closer to the edge with every pass.
The delicious pressure builds fast, my neglected body crying out for release. My back arches as I rock my hips into his touch, riding his hand in desperation. Needy, incoherent sounds fall from my lips, filling the car. The windows fog up from the heat we’re generating.
“That’s it, baby,” he coaxes. “Take what you need. Use me to make yourself feel good. I want to feel you come all over my fingers. Drench my fucking hand.”
He crooks his fingers inside me, hitting that magic spot, as he pinches my clit between thumb and forefinger. The unexpected zing of pain mingled with pleasure has me flying apart.
I scream his name as the orgasm crashes over me, my body quaking and my core clenching around his fingers. It seems to go on forever, aftershocks zipping through me with every twist of his fingers, every brush against my oversensitive flesh.
“Goddamn,” Lucas grits out through clenched teeth, his hips flexing almost involuntarily against the seat. A muscle in his jaw ticks as he labors for control.
Dazed and panting, I drift back to earth. He eases his hand out of my panties and brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean.
“Jesus, Lucas,” I rasp, my voice husky. “That was...”
“Fucking divine,” he finishes, flashing me that infamous panty-melting grin. But there’s an edge to it. A hunger.
A twinge of concern penetrates my post-orgasmic haze. “What about you? Do you want me to...” I trail off, glancing at the impressive tent in his jeans.
To my surprise, he chuckles almost self-consciously. “Ah, no, I’m good.”
I frown. “But you’re hard enough to hammer nails. It must be painful.”
He blows out a rueful breath. “I’m thirty-four goddamn years old, Ava. A grown-ass man. But I swear to Christ, you make me feel like a hormonal teenager again. I nearlycreamed my pants just from watching you come apart for me.”
My eyes widen as I process his admission, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Really?”
He shakes his head in apparent wonder. “You wreck me, woman. Every single time.”
