he wanted me to learn a lesson about uncontrollable pleasure, I have. One orgasm is enough! But not giving me a chance to recover in between takes it to another level. “Please.”
His hand snakes up my stomach and he tweaks my nipple. I moan. And he does it again, harder and in perfect synch with his mouth. He bites my clit and pinches my nipple at the same time, again and again until I scream in utter ecstasy and devastation, knowing too well where we’re headed—where he’s driving me. To the very edge of pleasure and pain. The vibrator is quickly abandoned and he shifts on his knees, filling me with three fingers and licking his way down my core, then back up.
“Come for me again, darlin’.” His fingers turn somersaults inside me.
Then I feel it—he’s humming and licking. Those happy fingers . . . My legs tremble and I’m gone, lost in the heat and pulse suffusing my body. I’m suddenly flipped over, my legs kneed apart, and he covers me with his heavy frame, nuzzling close to my ear.
“You’re near the top of the pleasure scale, Karlie,” he says. “Complete saturation is one of my favorites.” He impales me in one stroke, burying himself so deep I’m helpless to move. “Feel that?”
If he means practically puncturing my guts, I do. “Yes.”
“Do you want me?”
“Oh God—yes.”
“Tell me.” He’s barely moving, just quarter strokes, enough to tease and make me squirm.
My arms are so tired; my wrists sting from the friction of trying to get loose. “Make love to me.”
“I thought you’d never ask . . .” He pulls out, then hammers deep.
I melt into the bed. Then he pounds so hard my teeth rattle. Coated with perspiration, our bodies slip and slide, but he grips my hips, keeping us perfectly aligned. I’m limp and useless, but I feel that familiar warmth rising inside me.
“Now,” he says, biting my neck.
Three orgasms. I’m making up for lost time, and Lucas simply blows my mind.
Chapter Twelve
Karlie is asleep now. Something most women complain that men do after brisk lovemaking. I chuckle, rather pleased I wore her tiny body out. I gently roll off the bed, careful not to disturb her. I walk to the closet, open the door, and grab a blanket from a shelf. Before I cover her, I admire the shape of her body. She’s lying on her back, her breasts in full view. I bite my fist, tempted to taste and touch her again. But in reality, I need to recharge, and hope she’ll nap until I reheat the lasagna.
She doesn’t stir as I leave the room. I pad upstairs, thanking Marvin Gaye for helping set the tone for the evening. I shut off my stereo and head to the bathroom to wash off. I flip the light on and stare in the mirror. I look better than I have in months; there are no shadows under my eyes. Ever since my divorce and the last custody hearing, I’ve slept sporadically. Every bump in the night wakes me. Sometimes I grab my service gun and check the house top to bottom.
I finish wiping myself off and throw the washcloth and towel in the hamper. As I leave the bathroom, I stop at my dresser. I stare at the picture of my ex and son. I shake my head, cursing myself for being so absentminded. Karlie cleans in here and I’m sure she’s seen the photograph. Without a second thought, I stuff it inside one of the drawers. I have plenty of pictures of my son. I’ll transfer one into the frame later. I don’t want anything to interfere with my relationship with Karlie. Nothing. My former spouse included.
I enter the kitchen and turn the oven to broil. A minute later the bell rings and I shove the pan inside. Dinner will be ready soon. Then I grab the bottle of Chateau Montelena Estate Cabernet Sauvignon.
I fill both glasses, then set the bottle on the sideboard. This is the kind of thing I’ve missed out on for too long: wining and dining a beautiful woman who desires me as much as I want her. God help me. If Willow finds out I’m involved with someone, she’ll bring it up
His hand snakes up my stomach and he tweaks my nipple. I moan. And he does it again, harder and in perfect synch with his mouth. He bites my clit and pinches my nipple at the same time, again and again until I scream in utter ecstasy and devastation, knowing too well where we’re headed—where he’s driving me. To the very edge of pleasure and pain. The vibrator is quickly abandoned and he shifts on his knees, filling me with three fingers and licking his way down my core, then back up.
“Come for me again, darlin’.” His fingers turn somersaults inside me.
Then I feel it—he’s humming and licking. Those happy fingers . . . My legs tremble and I’m gone, lost in the heat and pulse suffusing my body. I’m suddenly flipped over, my legs kneed apart, and he covers me with his heavy frame, nuzzling close to my ear.
“You’re near the top of the pleasure scale, Karlie,” he says. “Complete saturation is one of my favorites.” He impales me in one stroke, burying himself so deep I’m helpless to move. “Feel that?”
If he means practically puncturing my guts, I do. “Yes.”
“Do you want me?”
“Oh God—yes.”
“Tell me.” He’s barely moving, just quarter strokes, enough to tease and make me squirm.
My arms are so tired; my wrists sting from the friction of trying to get loose. “Make love to me.”
“I thought you’d never ask . . .” He pulls out, then hammers deep.
I melt into the bed. Then he pounds so hard my teeth rattle. Coated with perspiration, our bodies slip and slide, but he grips my hips, keeping us perfectly aligned. I’m limp and useless, but I feel that familiar warmth rising inside me.
“Now,” he says, biting my neck.
Three orgasms. I’m making up for lost time, and Lucas simply blows my mind.
Chapter Twelve
Karlie is asleep now. Something most women complain that men do after brisk lovemaking. I chuckle, rather pleased I wore her tiny body out. I gently roll off the bed, careful not to disturb her. I walk to the closet, open the door, and grab a blanket from a shelf. Before I cover her, I admire the shape of her body. She’s lying on her back, her breasts in full view. I bite my fist, tempted to taste and touch her again. But in reality, I need to recharge, and hope she’ll nap until I reheat the lasagna.
She doesn’t stir as I leave the room. I pad upstairs, thanking Marvin Gaye for helping set the tone for the evening. I shut off my stereo and head to the bathroom to wash off. I flip the light on and stare in the mirror. I look better than I have in months; there are no shadows under my eyes. Ever since my divorce and the last custody hearing, I’ve slept sporadically. Every bump in the night wakes me. Sometimes I grab my service gun and check the house top to bottom.
I finish wiping myself off and throw the washcloth and towel in the hamper. As I leave the bathroom, I stop at my dresser. I stare at the picture of my ex and son. I shake my head, cursing myself for being so absentminded. Karlie cleans in here and I’m sure she’s seen the photograph. Without a second thought, I stuff it inside one of the drawers. I have plenty of pictures of my son. I’ll transfer one into the frame later. I don’t want anything to interfere with my relationship with Karlie. Nothing. My former spouse included.
I enter the kitchen and turn the oven to broil. A minute later the bell rings and I shove the pan inside. Dinner will be ready soon. Then I grab the bottle of Chateau Montelena Estate Cabernet Sauvignon.
I fill both glasses, then set the bottle on the sideboard. This is the kind of thing I’ve missed out on for too long: wining and dining a beautiful woman who desires me as much as I want her. God help me. If Willow finds out I’m involved with someone, she’ll bring it up
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