Page 67 of How Good It Was (Excess All Areas 3)

She met Luke’s gaze. “I don’t. But I hoped you might.”

Luke smiled softly as his lips met hers. “You trust me?”

“I think I do.”

“You don’t like it, just tell me, yeah?”

Willow nodded.

“Then stop teasing my dick and grip it. Because I think that’s what you wanted to do when you started to touch me.”

He was right. The teasing had been a hint she’d hoped he’d take. That she wanted more of him. She slid her hand beneath the waistband and circled him. From their night together, she remembered he liked to be gripped firmly.

“Yeah, just like that. And give me those lips of yours.”

She lifted her face to his and he cupped her cheek before kissing her. Deep and slow, his tongue seeking hers. His hips rolled against her as if he was fucking her hand, and she made a move to increase the speed.

“Stop, flower. Let me control it. You touch my head and I’m going to come all over you.”

His words made her press her thighs together. “Would that be a bad thing?”

“No. But I’d really prefer to come in you. Or on your back. Or on those tits of yours.”

He caught her gasp of air in his mouth before kissing her again.

The next thrust was deeper, her hand fisted around the base of his cock. “Squeeze me,” he groaned.

Despite him telling her what to do, she felt a surge of power that she was the one putting the need and gravel in his tone. She was the one making him twitch against her. He buried his head in the crook of her neck. “Fuck, your hand feels good wrapped around me,” he muttered.

He slid his hand beneath her cami, up her torso until he cupped her breast, his thumb grazing her nipple. An electric shock couldn’t have made her jump more.

“I need this off,” he said, tugging on the fabric.

Releasing him, she leaned back a little and slipped her cami over her head. Before she’d tossed it to the floor, he’d already sucked her nipple into his mouth firmly. Connections were made in her body that couldn’t possibly coexist. Every tug of his mouth rippled through her sex. Her clitoris ached for his touch.

It was messy. Wet. No polite licking with the tip of his tongue. It was a full mouth appreciation of her breast and, God, she was totally and utterly there for it. She could feel the wetness from the tip of his erection against her hip. The wet lapping of his tongue to her nipple and their gasps and groans were the only sounds beyond that of the busy London street coming to life outside.

She threaded her fingers through his hair. Muscle memory told her to tug. Nothing gentle, everything done with intention and meaning.

Luke rolled them so he lay cradled between her hips, then sat up suddenly. The crown of his dick sat proud above the waistband of his underwear. His abs and V-muscles more defined than she remembered. Everything about him was so ... delicious.

“Keep looking at me like that, Will. I like it.”

“Like what?”

He leaned over and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her shorts. “Like you want to suck on my dick for breakfast and let me fuck you over the table for lunch.”

“What about dinner?” she whispered; her throat unexpectedly dry.

“Dinner? You’re going to ride my face. Hard. Until I can’t fucking breathe, for the taste of you in my throat and the scent of you in my nose. You’ll grind against my tongue, my chin. I’ll dig my fingers into your hips to hold you there.”

“Luke.” Her voice was breathy, as if she’d run up a steep hill.

“You asked.” He tugged her shorts down her legs and slipped them off until she was naked. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

Without thinking, she placed her hands over her stomach, hiding it from view.

“What the fuck, Will?” He reached for her hands, kissing each wrist before he moved them out of the way. “Don’t hide from me. First, I don’t like it. And two, your body like this, it’s actually a turn on.” Then, he sat back on his heels, his face shellshocked. “Fuck me,” he breathed and ran his hands over his face.

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