She wasn’t used to so much talking during sex, and being with Lucas had her soaring and sublimely happy. From how he looked at her, like he wanted to devour her whole, to how his words rumbled out of him, deep and aroused, she felt wanted and special.
And she wanted him to feel the same way. For whatever this was, however long it lasted, he deserved to know he’d already given her more than she’d ever had before.
“Lucas,” she murmured, and he halted before entering her.
“Are you okay, baby?”
“So good. That’s what I wanted to tell you.”
A slow grin lifted his lips. “Glad to hear it. We’re okay then?”
He was asking permission, and her heart melted because she knew he’d do whatever she wanted.
“I want you, Lucas. And everything you make me feel.”
He replied with a groan and thrust deep inside her body, joining them together for the first time. He stilled, giving her time to adjust to his size, and soon she felt him pulsing inside her, desire building.
“God, you feel good. So tight and wet around me.”
She pulled her knees up, drawing him in deeper, and he began to move, driving into her harder with each thrust, hitting just the right spot. She caught his rhythm, and they moved in sync, a dance of bodies that started slow and quickly grew faster.
Her body tingled, and waves of pleasure washed over her with each successive plunge home until everything inside and out detonated, her orgasm an explosion of bright lights and sensation that filled her, body, heart, and soul.
“Yes, Maxie, baby.” He came seconds later, pulsing inside her, causing another ripple of an orgasm to shatter her once more.
It wasn’t enough for him to devastate her with the best sex ever, but he had to then get up, walk to the bathroom, clean up, and return with a warm washcloth for her. Next thing she knew, he pulled her into his arms, tucked her head beneath his chin, and fell asleep.
* * *
Maxie woke up disoriented. It took her a few minutes to remember where she was. Not just in Lucas’ apartment but in his bed. Alone. She drew a deep breath and calmed her rapidly beating heart.
It was one night, she reassured herself. She could handle it. She’d prepared herself ahead of time, gotten exactly what she wanted. And more, a little voice reminded her. The delicious soreness between her legs agreed.
She grabbed her nightie, pulled on a tee shirt he’d left on the end of the bed, and tiptoed to her own room. She took a shower and dressed, leaving her hair wet and pulled on top of her head. A pair of sweats, a tee shirt, and a casual attitude, and she was ready to walk out of her room.
She followed the smell of breakfast food to the kitchen and found Lucas. He stood by the stove wearing a pair of black track pants, a white untucked tee shirt, and bare feet, cooking French toast, something she remembered his mother making when they were growing up.
“Smells good,” she murmured.
He turned and grinned. “I picked up a few tips.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “You didn’t need to cook for me.”
“How about I wanted to?” He gestured to a chair with the spatula, indicating she should sit down.
She settled into a seat and drank some orange juice he’d poured for them both. The tart taste helped wake her up even more than the shower had.
He served them both a plate with three slices of French toast on each. She poured syrup over hers, and when her stomach rumbled, she realized how hungry she was.
“Guess you worked up an appetite,” he said, winking as he shoveled a few pieces into his mouth.
Oh God. “Lucas—”
“Don’t want to hear it,” he said, wiping his mouth. “We both wanted last night, and I’m not going to listen to any regrets or morning-after recriminations. We didn’t do anything wrong.”
She opened and closed her mouth again because he was right.
“So what’s on tap for today?” he asked.