“Thank you,” I say again, as his hands knead my neck.
“Don’t thank me.”
His voice is a delicious rumble, shooting warm pleasure between my legs. I rock my ass gently against him. I can’t seem to help myself.
“Lie still,” he murmurs.
He strokes my hair, my back, my shoulders. He runs a finger over my ear and presses his face into my hair. Sometimes, as he works, I feel the warmth of his breath against my neck.
I feel myself start getting wet. I rock my ass against him, feeling needy. There would be something wonderful about doing this here. It would be a way that we could own this place.
“Still,” he whispers through my hair.
But it’s too late. His hands have put a spell on me. Without a word, I turn over to face him, frame his face with my hands. My heavy-lidded eyes meet his right before our mouths collide.
His lips are soft and tender, but they don’t kiss me back. Not much, at least not in those first few seconds. He puts an arm around me and tries to pull me to his chest. I let him, because I want to feel enveloped. Safe.
It’s not protective, though. The way he holds me, as we both lie on our sides, facing each other, is different than it was.
Sorrowful: that’s how this feels.
I want to take that away.
Still facing him, I kiss his throat, nibbling and sucking my way down to the collar of his sweater.
“Mm,” he moans.
“Let’s take this off.”
He doesn’t move as I tug at the hemline of the shirt. I tuck it over my head, run my face along the hard warmth of his chest, and use my lips to feel around for a nipple. When I find it, I nip it with my teeth, then suck.
His chest rises and falls with deeper, longer breaths.
I reach down and wrap my hand around his thick erection, and he starts to pant.
“Luke,” I whisper.
I slide my tongue into his mouth and rock myself against the head of him. I press his cock against my leg, and tug and stroke it. When he tries to find his equilibrium again, I surprise him by unzipping his pants and reaching inside.
I’m rewarded by the sound of his breath catching. I grin as I cup his sac through the cotton of his boxer-briefs, while my other hand works his shaft.
When I’ve got my rhythm perfect, and he’s rocking himself into my hands, I brave a look at his face. He looks rapt. Relaxed and blissful.
So I’m surprised when, a few seconds later, he grabs my wrists and pushes my arms over my head. The peaceful expression on his face dies, replaced by something harsh. Using his knee, he nudges me onto my back and straddles me. I can feel the weight of his erection in between my legs. I rock against it even though his hand around my wrists is almost painful.
Still holding my arms over my head, he covers my mouth with his and lets his bandaged hand rove under my shirt. He cups my breasts and strokes my sides, then lets my hand go.
“Take it off.”
I obey brainlessly. I’m hot and throbbing in between my legs. I make quick work of my shirt and bra, and watch his face as my nipples harden in the heat of his gaze. He captures my wrists again, and leans over me to kiss my throat. His other hand rubs me through my pants.
He presses my wrists against the pillows. “Don’t move,” he says sternly.
He takes down my pants, pulls off my panties, and presses his warm, smooth cock between my thighs. He starts to rock against me as his hand recaptures my wrists.
His breaths are loud. His lids are low.
I thrust my pussy against his cock, and it’s like I flipped a button on him. He pauses for a moment. Then, with a dark glint in his eyes, he spreads my lips, leans his head down, and starts to lick me ruthlessly. I can hear the air hissing out his nose as his tongue drags through my puffy flesh. He lolls the tip of it around my clit, making a slick circle, teasing the sensitive nub until I’m coming off the bed.
With his tongue still exploring my folds and my knees clamped around his head, he reaches behind him. I hear a ripping sound, and a minute later, he lifts his head and leans over me, tying my wrists with what looks like a piece of wooly fabric from his sweater.
The knot is so tight, it almost hurts, but I’m too aroused to care.
With his cock pressed against my creaming pussy, he places my arms above my head and sucks my nipples while he rocks his hips against mine.
When I’m almost crying from the intensity of my arousal, he takes himself in hand, parts my pussy lips, and feeds his length into me: first the smooth, round head, and then the thick, veined hose of his shaft.
Centimeter by centimeter, he invades me, till he’s all I know. Until he’s balls-deep and I’m alight from the blissful, stretching length of him.
He presses one of my shoulders down with his hand, and with the injured one, he strokes up and down my sides while pumping in and out of me.