Page 1 of Be Your Anything
PROLOGUE
LENNON
I toss my head back, my mouth open and my eyes closed as I sink down on Lucas for the second time tonight.
That first bit of a pinch as he pushes into me is always so delicious, the most beautiful pain, that slight stretch as I try to make space for him in the place only he can seem to fill.
He moans underneath me, but I don’t look down. I look up at the ceiling, knowing I’m strung so tight right now that if I look into those eyes, I’ll come. Because seeing Lucas in pleasure is like a livewire straight to my core. Right now, I’m too turned on to test it, and I want this to last.
I always want it to last.
His hands rest on my thighs as I swivel my hips, the sensitive place between my legs rubbing against him and the patch of hair at the base of his dick.
It feels so good like this.
When we’re connected.
When we’re pressed together.
When we’re spread wide and flayed open.
Because nights with Lucas make me feel like I can take off the mask the rest of the world sees.
I lift my arms over my head, pulling my hair back and up, my fingers gripping the strands tightly as pleasure courses through my body.
Lucas’ hands grip my breasts, squeezing them softly but firmly. And then he pinches my nipples, twisting them between his fingers in a way that has me whimpering with need. My eyes drop down and lock with his as he speaks.
“God, those noises,” he groans out, his focus locked on me. “You keep making those and I’m gonna come too soon.”
My mind shifts, my new focus crystalizing. Making Lucas lose control as quickly and as pleasurably as possible becomes the new goal.
I place my hands on his chest, muscled and toned from the years he’s spent in the water, and lean forward, pushing my breasts closer to his face and letting my hair tumble down so it brushes against him.
I focus my eyes on his, on every moan from his mouth and each clench of his jaw, on the handful of freckles that dust his hairline and the scar on his eyebrow.
And then I do nothing but grind on him and let out little whimpers of pleasure, squeezing my core and digging my nails into his skin.
Lucas likes that little bite of pain, too.
His nostrils flare, his hands gripping my hips as I continue to roll my lower half against him, taking him inside of me again and again and again.
Suddenly, he flips us over so I’m on my back and he’s thrusting into me, his hips pounding, his dick hitting that spot within me that’s aching, the place only he can seem to manage to find.
Over and…
over and…
over again…
Until I’m mindless and breathless and I splinter apart, the pieces of my body that were once connected to his shattering and getting lost in the sheets that surround us.
Lucas isn’t far behind, groaning out his release with only a few more thrusts then stilling above me, his fingers gripping my sweat-slicked skin, his eyes clenched shut with pleasure.
I love looking at that. His face at the end. There’s this sated exhaustion, this look of complete bliss I hope only I can make him feel.
His head falls forward and he looks down at me where I lie sweaty and depleted beneath him. Just like every time we do this, I catch a glimpse of his heart. For just a second, just a fraction of a moment, he looks at me, completely unguarded, and I can let myself believe for just a minute that he is as absolutely crazy in love with me as I am with him.
Even though he’s not.
