Page 243 of Things We Left Behind
“This doesn’t mean anything,” I reminded him over the hammering of my heart.
“You’re right. It means everything,” he countered.
“Agree to disagree,” I decided. It wasn’t an argument worth having right this second.
He removed my strapless bra deftly with one hand and let out another low growl before diving for me face-first.
I let out a strangled laugh. “Why are you so obsessed with my boobs?”
“For the same reason you’re obsessed with my dick. Because they’re fucking perfect,” he said as his mouth found its way to the first sensitive peak.
Well, he wasn’t the only one who was going to play. It felt too good, being spread so wide in front of him, his mouth working its magic on my sensitive peak.
I reached between us and found his erection straining beneath the fabric of his pants. I gripped him hard.
“Goddammit,” he hissed against me.
A shudder ran through me. I could feel the pulls of his mouth echo inside me.
Without breaking contact with my breast, Lucian reached between my legs and dragged the sheer pink crotch of my underwear to the side. “Need to feel you.”
I was good with that. So good with it I barely flailed at allwhen he gripped me by the hips and scooted me to the very edge of the table.
“Hold still, Pix,” he ordered, batting my hand away from his crotch. I was about to argue until I heard the sound of his zipper.
“Oh God,” I groaned as he angled the plush head of his penis against my clitoris, parting the lips of my sex.
Lucian released my sensitized nipple with a pop. The cool air made the wet tip even more pronounced.
“Don’t stop working my cock, baby,” he ordered before moving to my other nipple.
I obliged and gripped the velvet-smooth shaft.
He groaned and whispered, “Such a good girl,” against my breast.
I let out a pathetic, gasping moan as he laved my ignored nipple with his magical tongue. I was so wet, and every suck from his mouth, every nudge from the head of his cock made my insides spasm emptily.
My grip on him had to be painful, but the noises he made at my breast were ones of ecstasy. I grabbed the back of his head with my free hand and held him against me. My breasts felt heavy and swollen from his attention.
Without warning, he reached between us and speared two fingers into my opening. We moaned together as if sharing the pleasure.
His fingers worked me mercilessly as I rode his hand and stroked his cock with borderline violence.
It felt like magic. We were magic.
He braced a hand under my rear end, angling me until my back was on the table. And then I felt the probing finger. First it dipped between my legs where I had turned to Aquawoman. Then it slid higher, dancing up the cleft between my cheeks. It stopped and probed gently at the puckered entrance.
He pulled back from my breast, leaving my nipple damp and distended. There was a question in his eyes. He was asking for permission.
I didn’t trust my words. So I answered him the best way I could, by shifting my hips and pushing back against that finger.
With a possessive growl, Lucian speared one finger into my rear end just as his other fingers curled inside my sex. His cock released a surge of precum onto my fingers. He liked possessing my body, craved it even.
I was hanging on by one teeny, tiny, tensile thread. I was spread open and filled up. My entire body was taut with the need to orgasm. And when his mouth found my breast once again, when he gave one, deep suck, I came apart.
The orgasm slammed into me, wrecking me. My inner walls clamped down on his fingers as he worked them inside me.
I kept working his cock with my hand, kept riding his fingers, kept pressing back against that single digit that filled me in a brand-new way.
