around Lucas and what he’s going to do to my body next. The dull ache between my legs is quickly turning into throbbing need. He pulls back and unbuttons his shirt. I watch, fascinated by his rippling muscles. Every inch of his body is toned to perfection and bronzed. He’s everything I love about South Texas men, a sun-worshipping water baby.
Shirtless now, he gathers me in his arms again. I reach up, burying my fingers in his hair. I tug gently and he growls. I do it again.
“Do you like a little pain, Karlie?”
The question reverberates throughout my body. No one has ever asked me that before, not in the way he means it. Do I like pain? I like the look on his face when I yank his hair. I do it again, harder. He winces.
“Is that a yes?”
“I like you. ” And I wouldn’t mind a spanking or a pinch.
He nods, then grabs my right hand and drags me across the living room. He opens my bedroom door and steps inside. “Don’t be nervous.”
I follow him.
“Lay down, darlin’.”
I gaze at the perfectly made bed. What’s he . . . I’m swept off my feet and gently deposited on the thick comforter. He turns away and starts opening my dresser drawers. I’m too stunned to say anything. What’s he looking for? Once he faces me again, he’s holding a linen belt. He edges closer, raising my hands above my head.
“Do you trust me enough to let me tie your hands?”
I remember our exchange about handcuffs at the racetrack. A small smile plays at my lips; I consent with a nod. This man can tie me up anytime he pleases. Another deep growl escapes his lips as I’m bound to my headboard in seconds. Never. I’ve never surrendered complete control before. But Lucas just claimed it. And I volunteered to let him. The thought makes me squirm, and I test the limits of my bonds. Did he tie a loose knot? No, but I have enough room to move my arms. I’m at his mercy and I like it. He’s observing me now, hovering over me.
“I want to fuck you, Karlie,” he whispers.
As if on command, my hips buck.
He chuckles and unbuttons his jeans, sliding them down his muscular thighs. Next, he removes his boxers. My gaze is locked on his narrow hips. He’s so beautiful. That’s the only word that comes to mind. Then my eyes shift downward to another breath-robbing vision. Lucas’s cock is smooth, long, and thick. And I want it, in my mouth and between my legs. I wiggle again, disliking the fact that I suddenly can’t touch him.
“Easy, darlin’.” He kneels on the edge of the mattress.
He rests his hand on my knee, blowing on my skin, and I nearly explode. I can’t believe I’m so susceptible to his close proximity and touch. I close my eyes. What’s happening to me? Sex with Connor didn’t feel like this; in fact, I didn’t like it at all. But Lucas . . . I hear the buzz of my vibrator and my eyes snap open.
My skirt is hiked up and Lucas is positioned between my legs, looking too confident, too immersed in whatever game he’s playing. That vibrator is nothing more than a clit tickler, and it’s never done anything for me before. With one hand he discards my panties, then pets my center. I inhale, desperate for deep penetration. I need him to make me forget the past.
“There are so many levels of pleasure,” he comments while getting eye level with my pussy. “Longing is the first.”
Lucas’s tongue, his thumb, and the tip of my vibrator converge at once inside me. He suckles my clit, nibbling and biting. I scream and twist my arms, trying to free myself. I’m in sensory overload—I can’t . . .
Within seconds, the throb of my orgasm follows. Lucas is watching me closely, but the dead silence kills me. Then he makes a slurping noise. “I love how you taste.”
“Need a napkin?” I ask sarcastically. “It’s your turn . . .”
Not a chance. He drives his thumb deeper and resumes the bliss-filled torture, his tongue and the vibrator taking turns. “Stop! Pl-please.” I’m begging now. If
Shirtless now, he gathers me in his arms again. I reach up, burying my fingers in his hair. I tug gently and he growls. I do it again.
“Do you like a little pain, Karlie?”
The question reverberates throughout my body. No one has ever asked me that before, not in the way he means it. Do I like pain? I like the look on his face when I yank his hair. I do it again, harder. He winces.
“Is that a yes?”
“I like you. ” And I wouldn’t mind a spanking or a pinch.
He nods, then grabs my right hand and drags me across the living room. He opens my bedroom door and steps inside. “Don’t be nervous.”
I follow him.
“Lay down, darlin’.”
I gaze at the perfectly made bed. What’s he . . . I’m swept off my feet and gently deposited on the thick comforter. He turns away and starts opening my dresser drawers. I’m too stunned to say anything. What’s he looking for? Once he faces me again, he’s holding a linen belt. He edges closer, raising my hands above my head.
“Do you trust me enough to let me tie your hands?”
I remember our exchange about handcuffs at the racetrack. A small smile plays at my lips; I consent with a nod. This man can tie me up anytime he pleases. Another deep growl escapes his lips as I’m bound to my headboard in seconds. Never. I’ve never surrendered complete control before. But Lucas just claimed it. And I volunteered to let him. The thought makes me squirm, and I test the limits of my bonds. Did he tie a loose knot? No, but I have enough room to move my arms. I’m at his mercy and I like it. He’s observing me now, hovering over me.
“I want to fuck you, Karlie,” he whispers.
As if on command, my hips buck.
He chuckles and unbuttons his jeans, sliding them down his muscular thighs. Next, he removes his boxers. My gaze is locked on his narrow hips. He’s so beautiful. That’s the only word that comes to mind. Then my eyes shift downward to another breath-robbing vision. Lucas’s cock is smooth, long, and thick. And I want it, in my mouth and between my legs. I wiggle again, disliking the fact that I suddenly can’t touch him.
“Easy, darlin’.” He kneels on the edge of the mattress.
He rests his hand on my knee, blowing on my skin, and I nearly explode. I can’t believe I’m so susceptible to his close proximity and touch. I close my eyes. What’s happening to me? Sex with Connor didn’t feel like this; in fact, I didn’t like it at all. But Lucas . . . I hear the buzz of my vibrator and my eyes snap open.
My skirt is hiked up and Lucas is positioned between my legs, looking too confident, too immersed in whatever game he’s playing. That vibrator is nothing more than a clit tickler, and it’s never done anything for me before. With one hand he discards my panties, then pets my center. I inhale, desperate for deep penetration. I need him to make me forget the past.
“There are so many levels of pleasure,” he comments while getting eye level with my pussy. “Longing is the first.”
Lucas’s tongue, his thumb, and the tip of my vibrator converge at once inside me. He suckles my clit, nibbling and biting. I scream and twist my arms, trying to free myself. I’m in sensory overload—I can’t . . .
Within seconds, the throb of my orgasm follows. Lucas is watching me closely, but the dead silence kills me. Then he makes a slurping noise. “I love how you taste.”
“Need a napkin?” I ask sarcastically. “It’s your turn . . .”
Not a chance. He drives his thumb deeper and resumes the bliss-filled torture, his tongue and the vibrator taking turns. “Stop! Pl-please.” I’m begging now. If
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