Page 63 of Silver Fox's Christmas Scandal
My pajama pants dragged lower with each tug of his hand until they were tangled at my ankles, then gone altogether.
He shifted between my thighs, his mouth moving lower, leaving a trail across my skin that made me shiver in anticipation.
I was insane for letting him walk back into my apartment and do this to me.
But I was desperate, and desperate people do desperate things.
“Lucian,” I whispered, half-plea, half-warning, but he didn’t stop. His hands framed my hips, steadying me as his mouth settled where I ached most.
The first stroke of his tongue tore a cry from my throat. My body clenched, and I fisted his hair, trying to ground myself as he worked me with slow even licks.
Every drag, every flick, pushed me higher, my hips rising to meet him.
He groaned against me, the sound vibrating through my skin until I was trembling all over.
Pressure built too fast, impossible to fight, and then I broke, coming hard with his name spilling from my lips.
My legs were boneless, and before I could catch my breath he was already pulling me up into his arms.
My back lifted from the door as he carried me across the room, his mouth finding mine again in a kiss that tasted like me.
The strength in his hold left no room for protest, only the wild rush of knowing he needed me enough to come here, to take me like this.
He lowered me onto the couch, settling me against the cushions before stripping his shirt open, while my hands fumbled at his belt. I wanted him naked, and I wanted him now.
"Christ, woman, I can't get you fast enough."
My fingers found his zipper, dragging it down. He pushed his pants away, leaving him hard and straining against the thin fabric of his briefs.
I reached for him, but his hand caught mine, pinning it above my head.
His other hand closed around my wrist and held me there, wrists bound together in his grip.
The restraint sent a fresh rush of heat through me, my chest heaving as his gaze locked on mine.
“You don’t get to touch yet,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’ve wanted this too long. I need to set the pace.”
He shoved his briefs down, freeing himself, the sight of him thick and flushed pulling a low sound from my throat. He dragged the tip against me, smearing me open without giving me what I wanted. My hips rose, desperate, but his hold tightened.
“Lucian—”
His mouth crashed over mine, swallowing my protest. He pushed forward in one hard drive, filling me so deep, it stole the air from my lungs.
My back bowed, a sharp gasp breaking between us. His hand still pinned my wrists, the other braced at my hip as he pushed in deeper, grinding out a groan that vibrated against my mouth.
“Christ. You feel better than I remembered,” he rasped, forehead pressed to mine. “And I remembered every detail.”
I writhed beneath him, the ache unbearable until he began to move. Each thrust dragged me higher, my nails biting my palms where he held me captive, my body shuddering with the force of him.
His gray eyes burned into mine, hunger and fury twisted together in a way that terrified me and left me clinging to him all the same.
I tensed beneath him, breath stuttering. “Wait.”
The word cut through the haze, and for a moment his whole body went rigid above me.
His eyes searched mine, wild with need, until I whispered, “Condom.”
His jaw tightened. A beat passed, then he released my wrists and dragged in a rough breath. “Don’t move.”
