Page 94 of Veil of Obsession
He smirks, his lips brushing over mine. “One more, baby. Give me one more.”
I whimper, nodding, my body already burning from the aftershocks. But then he presses his palm flat against my clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles, and I cry out, my body arching into him, chasing the sensation despite myself.
“I know you can take it,” he murmurs, his fingers sinking into me again, stretching me, filling me, curling perfectly.
I moan again, shaking, needing, drowning. And then I come again. This time it’s even stronger, deeper, consuming. My body writhes in his lap as I fall apart all over again, gasping, shaking, and moaning his name.
Lucio groans, watching every second, owning every sound, his fingers pressing deep as he works me through it, dragging me down from the high inch by inch. And when it’s finally too much, when my body collapses against him, spent and trembling, he pulls his fingers from me, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” he murmurs, his voice dark, satisfied.
I whimper, still catching my breath, my body a wrecked mess in his lap. Then he lifts my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“I could have you right now,” he murmurs, his cock still hard beneath me, pressing into my core. “I could fuck you so good you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
My stomach flips, heat pooling between my legs all over again.
“Then do it,” I whisper, testing him, tempting him.
His eyes darken. But then he shakes his head.
“Not yet.” He drags his thumb over my swollen lips, his voice quieter now, deeper, more serious. “I’m not just here to fuck you. I don’t want anything but the real deal with you. And when I finally take you?” His lips brush over mine, teasing. “It’s not going to be rushed. It’s not going to be just sex. It’s going to be me fucking claiming you. Completely.”
My breath catches. The air between us shifts—heavier, thicker, deeper.
I should say something, but before I can, he pulls me against him, tucking me into his chest and holding me close. Like I mean something.
Like I’m his.
And I don’t resist. I just melt into him, letting him hold me, letting myself believe this moment is real.
Because maybe it is.
The room is dark,the only light spilling in from the city outside, washing soft shadows across the walls.
Lucio is asleep beside me, his breathing steady, his arm heavy where it’s draped over my waist, like he already owns me. Like he thinks I’ll wait.
Like he thinks he gets to decide when this happens.
But he doesn’t. If I want him to fuck me, there’s no reason to wait.
I shift slowly, rolling onto my side, my heart pounding in my chest as I take him in—his sharp jawline, the mess of darkhair against the pillows, the hard muscles beneath the sheets. I drag my fingers lightly over his stomach, trailing lower, brushing against the waistband of his sweats.
He stirs, but doesn’t wake. Not yet.
I bite my lip, my stomach twisting in anticipation, in hunger, in something so desperate it makes my skin burn. Swinging my leg over him, I straddle his waist, letting the weight of my body settle over him.
He stirs again, this time sucking in a slow breath. I smirk, rolling my hips against him, grinding just enough to feel the hard length of him beneath me.
His breathing changes. And then…
His hands fly to my thighs, gripping me tight.
“Princess,” he mutters, voice thick with sleep, but there’s a warning in his tone.
I roll my hips again, shameless, slow, teasing. “You said you wanted the real deal.”
His grip tightens, his fingers digging into my thighs, bruising.
