tongue, I see all the stars of heaven. My back curls up from the bed, forcing him to trap my pelvis with a broad, commanding palm. This stops me from wiggling away, forces me to be still, allowing him the access to clean me up in this primal, determined way.
Mouth against my sex, Lucan growls—setting off flutters inside me that have me gasping. He goes at me until I’m bucking on his face, my toes pressed to his shoulders, back arching, the sensations so strong he’s making me squeak every time his tongue laps at me. My fingers are in his hair, gripping—I thought it was to push him away, but as another orgasm strikes me out of nowhere, I realize I’m holding him hard against me, knuckles tight to his scalp until I finish.
This time, with my body twitching and unfurling beneath him like a rubbery noodle, Lucan eases back—his throat vibrating with a deep, ultra satisfied noise that has my eyes rolling back in my head.
He carefully arranges my legs, which is nice of him. I can’t feel my feet. There’s not one part of me that I can move on my own. I’m not even sure if I’m breathing.
“Was that good?” Lucan asks, gaze meeting mine as he drags the back of his arm over his glistening mouth and soaked chin.
“You’re incredible and I love your face,” I manage to say, despite my lips and all the muscles of my mouth feeling too relaxed to properly form words.
Shyly, he smiles, his eyes warming. His hair is curled and sticking up and tousled like he just made a woman come her brains out.
“You should wear your hair like that every day,” I tell him, arms splayed, still unable to move.
Curious, he reaches up, running a hand through his hair—and he stops, realizing it’s mussed from me hanging on to it.
The look that comes over his face. His eyebrows go up high, surprised. But then a carnal, satisfied light enters his eyes and his shy smile curls into a wicked, wicked grin.
He shakes his head, gaze dropping to my throat—then he surprises me by making a slow, decadent perusal of my naked body. “Let the husband render unto the wife due benevolence…” His eyes flick up to mine, dancing, playful even as his expression flirts with seriousness. “Did I treat you with consideration?”
Biting my lip, I nod.
“With kindness and generosity?”
I manage to raise my leg, bend my knee, and hook him at his waist with my foot. “You did. You treated me kindly and very, very generously.”
“Think I treated you properly with consideration?” He asks. “With indulgence?”
I lazily turn my gaze up to the ceiling—shiplap boards the color of honey, beautiful—and pretend to think about it. “I suppose you did.”
“Mmm,” he murmurs, his hand closing around my shin, caressing. Then his fingers tighten and he angles my leg so that my knee bends outward, keeping me open wide for him. “And likewise, you were the picture of benevolence with me. You were very,” he bends down and places a kiss on my mons that makes me jump, “kind, showing me much benignity and… liberality,” he says, brushing his lips on my lower stomach, across my stretch marks and belly skin that I normally feel self-conscious over due to its loss of elasticity, thanks to carrying two babies. But with Lucan so lovingly showing me attention, I’m not struck with an unwanted awareness of my body’s imperfections.
Under Lucan, I don’t feel imperfect.
“This wasn’t corrupted,” he declares. “This was perfect.”
He’s right about that.
I clear my throat. “Do you—does your penis make a knot every time you get excited?”
Glancing at my face, he pulls his fingertips from where they were tracing the lines on my belly and rests his hands on my knee and my waist, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to touch me. “Yes.”
I nibble my lip, meeting his eyes while he’s able to gaze into mine directly. “Does it hurt more than it feels good?”
“It still feels good,” he assures, less embarrassed than me about talking about this. “It’s all I know.”
Fair point. “Okay,” I say, taking a breath and letting my words out in a rush. “I’d like to taste you. If I held your knot in my hand while I gave you a blowjob, maybe you’d like that? Do you want to come up here and, um, sit on my face?”