He grips my shoulders, holding me away, and running his gaze over my body.
I draw in a deep breath when he palms my nipples and rubs.
“You look good enough to eat.” His hands skim lower, down my quivering stomach, over the flare of my hips, to my bare thighs. Reaching under the hem of my skirt, he glides his fingers up over my panties, before slipping inside. I gasp when he circles my clit before plunging deep into my pussy. “This outfit is perfect for what I have in mind.”
It’s hard to concentrate when he does that. Or stay upright. I rest my hands on his shoulders to keep steady.
“Wider,” he commands in that low voice he uses.
I don’t even think of disobeying, spreading my legs the second the word falls from his lips. He pumps his fingers, letting the heel of his hand rub my clit. The scent of sex surrounds me as I moan, tilting my hips, seeking the hard pressure I need to send me over the edge.
Another discovery made. I’d never been able to give myself an orgasm because I’d been too gentle. My touch too light and tentative. Who knew I needed pressure to slip over the edge?
I gasp when he hits a particularly good spot.
Lukas, that’s who.
My back breaks out in fine beads of sweat. The wet sounds of his fingers driving in and out of me fills the air, making me hotter. An orgasm hovers just out of my reach.
I’m almost there.
My muscles clench.
Right there.
He stops abruptly.
I sway on my feet, scowling.
His hands squeeze my hips, and he laughs. “Don’t glare.”
“What are you doing?” My body buzzes with my almost climax. How dare he stop? I blow out a puff of air.
“I love how your pussy is always dripping wet for me.” Ignoring my question completely, he slips inside my panties again, dancing along my slippery folds as if to prove his point.
Like I need proof. I know exactly how wet I am.
He threads his thumbs along the strings that constitute my underwear and pulls until they snap. “You won’t be needing these.”
A sudden flare of panic spikes hot. What’s he up to? Playing it cool, I ask, “You don’t expect me to meet your friends with no panties, do you?”
He tugs at the fabric between my legs. An involuntary groan escapes my lips as he pulls the fabric over my sensitive clit. The wicked smile he’d worn at the front door reappears. “Yeah, I do.”
“No.” I have limits. I can’t go around meeting people without underwear. That’s obscene.
His eyes flash, and his jaw becomes a stubborn line. “Don’t say no to me.”
I cock a brow, prepared to try my luck. “No.”
He growls low in his throat and lunges.
It surprises me so much I screech, taking off in a run. I make it to the living room before a strong arm grabs my waist. Excitement builds, as I struggle in his grasp. He encircles both my arms in a death grip and then I’m lifted off the floor. Hot breath in my ear he drags me down to the couch and turns me over his knee. When he yanks my skirt up over my waist, sanity prevails.
No matter how much I liked it last night, instinct takes over and I protest. “Lukas wait…”
A hard smack lands across my ass and I yelp at the pain. “If you’re going to be a bad girl, you’ve got to pay the price.”
My eyelids squeeze tight as I brace for the fiery sting.