Page 119 of Blood & Lace
“What the fuck?”
Nash stared at us as we walked into the house. I froze. Lucero had no shirt on and my wrists were already covered in bruises. Both of us were red faced and a bit out of breath. Nash’s gaze slid over us.
“So… things went well?” he asked Lucero, brow raised.
“Yep!” Lucero grinned and pointed his thumb at me. “I’ve still got myself a husband!”
“Idiot,” I muttered, my face hot.
“Please put a shirt on.” Nash sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This. This is why I am never settling down. Insanity,” he muttered as he walked out.
Lucero chuckled. “Nash was glad to see you.”
I stared up at him. “Honestly, I think you’re delusional and you might actually need to see a doctor about it. Like no, I’m not joking. Are you even listening to me?”
“No,” he said. “I mean, always, but I was thinking about stealing a shirt from one of my brother’s rooms. Or I might have one in the supply closet.” He started walking, and I trailed him as he climbed the stairs. “Yep!” he called as he opened a closetfilled with clothes in the hallway. “Ma still keeps clothes here in case we get messy.”
Lucero tugged his shirt over his head. When he lowered his arms, he tilted his head at me. Looking like the world’s biggest golden retriever.
“What?” He smiled.
“Nothing,” I muttered. “Just missed you, I guess.”
He lit up like I’d never seen him light up before. “Really? You missed me?” He stepped closer, invading my space. “Say it again,” he begged. “Say you missed me, bella. Need to hear it. Need to hear you say those words again.”Lucero’s voice was desperate, needy. When a whimper fell free, it was over for me.
I immediately smiled. “I missed you.”
“Fuck,” he groaned. He reached down, grabbed my waist, and hauled me over his shoulder. I protested as he carried me into a bathroom and shut the door.
“Lucero, put me down!”
He sat me on the counter. Before I could say a word, he was ripping my pants down my thighs. Lucero turned me over and yanked my underwear down too. For once, I’d gone comfort over lace and he stilled.
“Hate these,” he muttered.
“Well, I was coming to kill you, not fuck you!” I said.
Lucero ripped the black cotton boxers off me like it was nothing. He tossed them over his shoulder.
“Better,” he said.
“Hey! Stop ripping and grabbing things tonight! What has gotten into—Oh my fucking God.”
Lucero’s tongue ran up and down my asshole again as he spread my cheeks. I looked at him in the mirror, his head buried in my ass as he shoved his tongue in me. A moan shot free, my hands gripping the sink as he pulled out only to tease and lap at my hole.
My cock jumped. Already, I could feel how hard I was. It took no time at all with Lucero. Sometimes I thought about him and it was over with. I was already hard and throbbing for him. His hands gripped me harder as he flicked his tongue inside once more. He came up to breathe, and I met his gaze in the mirror.
“Fuck, Lucero,” I panted.
He grinned at me. “I missed you too.”
And then he buried his face in my ass again. My eyes rolled back as I went up on the tips of my toes. Every time I moaned, he seemed to take it as an invitation to go deeper, harder, to tease me more. He ate my ass like he was never going to see me again. I squirmed.
“L-Lucero, come on,” I groaned. “Fuck me already.”
“No,” he called. “Not done yet, Master.”
My body tingled all over. I pushed back against his face and heard him groan as I met his thrusts. My hips rocked as I started riding his face. I pressed my hand against the mirror, my stomach tightening as my orgasm built low in my belly. I gasped when he hit the sweet spot, my knees buckling.
