Page 50 of Resist
When the chorus kicked in, he opened his eyes and strode toward me, slowly crawling atop the sofa yet mindful of my foot by keeping his body elevated from mine. I sucked in a deep breath, shocked, but inhaling the scent of him — clean and musky with sweat.
My God he was close. Too close.Dangerouslyclose. But he was locked in the moment of his routine, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to unlock that.
Staying completely still, I slowly exhaled and tried to calm my racing heartbeat when he gently wedged his knee between my hip and the back of the sofa so that he could sit, his thighs a vise around my body as he straddled my lap.
I probably should’ve told him to get off at that point, to back away and move to the other side of the room. I probably should’ve done or said many things that I didn’t.
But I couldn’t.
I wouldn’t.
Releasing my hands from clenching the sofa, he placed them on his chest and slowly guided them over his abdomen and shoulders as he rocked his hips back and forth.
The friction. The heat. The smell. It was sex without it being sex.
Lucas moved my hand to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on my knuckles. My skin tingled in response, my inner thighs, quaking.
I panted.
He moved my hands to my breasts.
I panted more.
He coaxed me to massage them.
I did.
That’s when he leaned back, closed his eyes, and slid his hand down his shorts, the gliding motion against his cock undeniable and unbearably erotic.
I moaned, bucked my hips, and squeezed my breasts, desperate for more than what I was getting, desperate for something I shouldn’t have.
Lucas was off limits;Iwas off limits. But oh my God, I wanted him.
Stroke after stroke, I wanted him.
Breath after breath, I wanted him.
The speed of his arm increased as the music hit a crescendo, but then he slowed his pace and lazily opened his eyes. I stopped massaging my breasts and looked down at his pants, his cock in his hand: hard, red, and bobbing. Our chests heaved, my mouth parted. He looked at my lips, and I looked at his, and that was when I let go of everything I’d been holding on to and reached forward, pulling him to me.
Lucas’s kiss was so powerful, I almost couldn’t breathe. Strong, soft lips, just like I’d dreamed. His tongue caressed and twirled with mine, flicked mine, tasted mine. He was scotch and sweat, warm and wet.
I reached for his cock but paused, my fingers skimming his slick skin.Helena, what the hell are you doing?
“No,” I panted, gently pushing against his chest. “We can’t do this.”
He moaned. “We can.”
“No, we can’t.” I reluctantly broke the kiss and pushed him back.
Lucas closed his eyes, his expression pained. “Why not?”
“Because …” I swallowed and let my head drop back, my hands covering my eyes as I shook my head in disbelief. “Because you know why.”
Lucas hadn’t argued when I’dpolitely bid him goodnight, but he had sent me a text shortly afterward, which I was now reading —nine hours later while drinking my morning coffee on the balcony— and still figuring out how I’d respond.
Dimps: I honestly don’t know why, Helena
I like you, a lot. And, clearly, you like me.
