She didn’t care. Just so long as he never, never stopped.
And then she felt that final wave swelling beneath her. Lifting higher than she’d ever been before. Panic—banished until that moment—rushed back into her, racing through her body and threatening to overwhelm her.
‘Lukas...’ She barely recognised her own voice, as breathless and urgent as it sounded.
But, as though he knew exactly what she was feeling, he grazed one hand over her body, making her belly tremble as it skimmed the skin. Then, suddenly, he slid a finger inside her and did something magical with his mouth, and Oti was hurled straight back into the glory of those rolling waves.
This time was all the more devastating than before. With every sweep of his tongue she shook and she shook, spinning higher and higher and more out of control. And then Lukas did something magical, and those last flimsy threads holding Oti to reality were broken.
She was gone. Spiralling up into nothingness with a cry so primal that it surely couldn’t have been her. It was as if she were fragmenting. Splintering into so many pieces that she doubted they could ever be put back together properly again. She doubted she could ever be put back together again.
She had no idea how long she soared, but when she finally, finally came back to herself, it was to find Lukas moving up the bed and gathering her in his arms as though she was something infinitely precious.
But that was fanciful. And foolish. Sex was sex, and...love was love. Only a fool would confuse the two.
So then you’re a fool.
But she didn’t have time to dwell. As he rolled onto his back, he carried her with him, settling her down on top of him, his solid, velvety length pressing against her wet heat. And she shivered again, though this time for a slightly different reason.
‘Lukas...’
‘Stunning,’ he breathed, his hand reaching up to cup her breasts and making her bite her lip again.
Was it the incredible sensations or the intensity of his gaze that emptied her head of all rational thought? She didn’t know; she could only hear her own breathing, shallow and panting slightly, as he reached between them and traced her swollen core again.
Then, suddenly, he was lined up and Oti found herself waiting, needing, desire overcoming anything else she might—or perhaps ought—to be feeling.
And finally, as his eyes locked with hers and she forgot how to breathe, she moved her hands to cover his as they cupped her hips and let him plunge inside her.
It hurts.
Oti stiffened as her fists shot out involuntarily and slammed hard against his unforgiving chest. The pain lanced though her, searingly hot and so very, very sharp that it chased every bit of air from her lungs so that she couldn’t even breathe.
He was much too big, much too thick, much too everything...so deep inside her. Though, slowly, it dawned on her that he was no longer moving. That he too had gone still, holding her above him with an impressive self-control of which—she was vaguely aware—any other man would have been incapable.
She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even bring herself to meet Lukas’s gaze, though there was no way to avert her face so that he couldn’t look at her. Not that she needed to. She could tell by the way her skin burned that he was glowering at her.
That he was furious.
‘Are you going to explain this?’ he bit out at last, a dangerous edge to his tone despite the quiet, too-controlled pitch that he employed.
A sudden sob made
its way up through her and it was all she could do to swallow it back. How had she been so foolish as to think she could deceive Lukas? That he wouldn’t discover she was some untried, untested virgin?
His opinion of her had already been low. It seemed that she couldn’t even seduce a man without showing her abject lack of experience. And now he wanted her to explain herself.
Oti shook her head, helpless against the sting of bitter tears as they welled behind her eyes.
‘Ahh, don’t cry, Oti.’ His tone changed in an instant. It softened in a way she hadn’t heard him speak before. ‘Not because of a man like me. I’m no good. I’m not worth it.’
Oti’s eyes flew to his before she realised what she was doing.
He sounded so...different, and she couldn’t put her finger on what that emotion was which skittered across his impossibly handsome face, but she knew it was better than what had gone before. And he was still there, inside her. Filling her. Stretching her.
What was she to think?
‘You should have told me, though,’ he added with a slight frown.