mess of rampant breathing, my throat dry, my core pulsing.
I contemplate telling him to stop.
Ending this now—happy and blissed—is far better than the uncertainty that awaits. I can’t get through this without acknowledging my trauma. Can I? Being like this with him can’t be that easy. I have to break down soon. It’s inevitable. I’m merely waiting for the switch to be flicked.
“Luc…”
“Hmm?” He guides my legs apart with slight pressure, exposing my vulnerabilities.
He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t move his body closer to mine. He only continues to circle and swirl. Tease and tempt.
It’s nothing like my past.
A completely foreign experience. Strikingly, agonizingly different.
“Nothing.” I shake my head and clutch the sheets as he circles my pussy, the lightest glide of two fingertips moving around and around my outer edges.
This is far beyond what I wanted.
It’s more passion. More kindness.
I envisaged sterility. Fear. Sorrow.
Yet here I am, tempted to beg for more, my hands itching to clutch him to my chest as his inhales labor.
Tension builds inside me. Sweet, needy tension.
I don’t know how to sate the pulse becoming an adamant force deep down in my core. It makes me mindless, all the tingles and bliss.
He continues the circles, gliding closer and closer until he’s brushing my pussy lips.
I shudder, anticipation trapping the breath in my lungs.
I don’t know what comes next, but I want it. I need it.
“Luca?”
“Yeah?” His voice is breathy. Graveled.
“Don’t stop.”
He groans, his digits parting my folds to slide through slickness. My back arches. My breasts tingle. One finger enters me. Gradually. Agonizingly slowly.
I pant, wanting more as I close my eyes.
But bliss doesn’t greet me in the mental darkness. Luther does. His conniving face stares back at me, smirking.
I scramble backward, the claws of panic snatching at me.
“What is it?” Luca asks. “What happened?”
“Turn on the lamp.” I scoot to the head of the bed as the light flicks on, my arms around my legs, my knees near my chest. I gasp for breath.
The man who comes into view washes away the fear. He holds the memories at bay with the concern in his expression. The silent promise of protection.
“I took it too far.” He covers my legs with the sheet.
“No, not at all. I was loving everything until I closed my eyes.”
He winces. “It’s okay. There’s no rush.”
There is to me.
There’s now a finish line I want to pass. A victory over past demons I have to claim.
I reach for him, my fingers tentatively gliding over his chest. He sucks in a breath at the connection. Tenses.
“I’m wound tight, shorty.”
“Me, too. But I don’t want you to stop.” I sink back onto the bed, turning onto my side to roll into him. “I need you to keep going.” I can’t quit here or I may never return.
“Why don’t we save this for another day? We’re not—”
“Please, Luc.”
His nostrils flare, his frustration clear in the heavy exhale. “Whatever you want.”
I’ve seen enough men consumed with lust to recognize the sight before me. He’s pained with need. And his restraint is a monumental gift I’ve never received before.
Men don’t hesitate to take from me. They steal and torment and punish.
But not Luc.
This time he guides my thigh to rest on top of his, propping my legs apart. He looks down at me, pussy splayed, wetness dripping.
“Fuck you’re beautiful, Pen. So fucking beautiful.”
I wilt for him, completely slump into a puddle of adoration. “Please kiss me.”
I drag my hand around his neck and pull him close. He groans as our mouths meet, the vibration sinking into my chest.
I lose myself in him. Sucking. Licking. Biting. But most of all, learning. I notice the way he growls when I sink my teeth into his lower lip. I pay attention to the way he deepens the kiss if I inch back.
We smother each other, the passion climbing higher and higher with each sweep of our tongues until his fingers sneak back between my thighs.
I didn’t think I could become needier than I was before. I never would’ve thought desire could be this painful. Or that bliss could be entirely consuming, like the way it is when his fingers slide back inside me.
I dig my nails into his neck. Cling. Claw.
“Oh, God.” I gasp.
He resumes his slow torment. His digits glide into my pussy, stroking, then retreating completely. Back and forth. Over and over, delving deeper with each pass.
His breathing increases as he continues to kiss me, scraping me with his stubble.