thought of what was to come. My panties were already soaked.
His dark eyes pinned mine down as he eased a warm hand up my thigh. “If it’s good enough for that dude in the movie, it’s good enough for me,” he replied.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Lucas hitched the hem of my dress up to my hips and pulled down my panties, tossing them to the floor. I was suddenly thankful for having been extra fastidious about shaving this afternoon. His hands glided up my smooth skin to rest on my hips, positioning me just at the edge of his piano.
Then he bent and kissed the inside of my thigh. More gooseflesh bloomed where his mouth and tongue connected and pressed along the tender skin. I let out a tight breath, not even aware that I’d been holding it until I sucked in another one. Lucas’s hand cupped my knee and pushed it aside, opening my legs further apart.
Oh Lordy… Lordy. He was going to. He was… I couldn’t even form the thought, my mind was swirling and my heart was pounding with heated excitement, cold thrill and maybe even a little fear. What would happen next?
I’d been craving a good roll in the hay. It had been far too long. And all work and no play made Katya a dull girl but…
Would this change things? Would we cross some line that couldn’t be uncrossed? Was this a mistake? And why the hell was I angsting over it as his mouth—and that exquisite whiskered jaw and chin—crept closer and closer to my center. Oh Christ. My eyelids closed, and I slumped back on the piano, resting against my elbows.
His hands were firm, sure, but gentle, stroking me in ways that revealed his experience. He’d done this before—a lot—and if he kissed me there the way he’d kissed my mouth, I was in for an amazing orgasmic finish to my evening.
“Lucas,” I rasped, my legs suddenly tensing.
He stopped but didn’t raise his head. Instead he waited. When I didn’t say anything, he asked. “Do you want to stop?”
I swallowed, my head now spinning, my throat tight and my body ratcheted up and raring to go. I was hypersensitive to everything around me, including the light touch of the air. “No… Do you?”
“Fuck, no. I want to taste you until you come on my tongue. I want to know if it’ll be as amazing as I’d imagined it would be.”
My jaw dropped. “You’ve—you’ve imagined it?”
His mouth connected at the juncture of my inner thigh, his tongue slipping out to lick me there. I sucked in a breath.
“Yes, I have. And every time, you were hotter than the last time.”
He’d been fantasizing about me? More than once? With his whiskey-loosened tongue, he was now freely admitting all kinds of things to me. Dutch courage, so to speak. I almost laughed at the irony of that thought.
As for me, I wouldn’t be putting that out there—the myriad of dirty dreams and other, ahem, private moments when his handsome face had entered my mind unbidden. But I forgot all that when his mouth hovered over my sex, hot breath bathing me with promises to come.
I sighed. “Well… that’s a tall order. Not sure I can live up to a fantasy. I hope you aren’t expecting—”
“You already are, Kat. You already are.” A finger entered me and I gasped. Then another. He flicked his dark eyes up to look into my face, as if gauging my reaction. Then, as if satisfied by what he saw, he continued. His thumb parted me and suddenly his mouth enveloped my center, sucking relentlessly at my clit. Holy. Shit.
The hand on my knee pushed again to further open me and I complied with both knees, allowing him full access. My head dropped back, dangling on my neck. Behind my closed eyelids, brilliant light strobed in concert with his mouth on my sensitive center. My equilibrium spun and whirled, lost to sensation alone. Each flick of his tongue I felt everywhere, pooling into molten lead at the base of my spine.
I swear to God I almost forgot how to breathe. Pretty sure I did forget my own name. All that existed was his hand on my leg, his fingers gliding rhythmically in and out of me, his hot mouth sucking. His tongue lapped relentlessly over that sparking bundle of nerves.
Full speed ahead—from aroused to almost coming in less than a minute. Jesus Murphy. It was like the Daytona of orgasms.