Sinful Hands (Chained Hearts Duet 3)

Lucas’ lips turn up in a smirk as he reaches for something in his trousers and pulls out a gun. He brings it to my neck and holds it in place. “Now, why would I do a stupid thing like that?” My breathing has picked up while his nostrils flare, but I don’t move an inch. “Interesting.” He hums, dragging the gun down my bare body until it reaches the space between my legs. “Do you want me to touch you there?”

I’ve never actually had head. Can you believe that? Most men are selfish lovers, and they pay me so they can be selfish. So when he pushes the barrel of the gun onto my clit, I suck in a deep breath. Then he starts rubbing it back and forth, the movement makes me clench my hands with the friction from the cold metal.

Lucas leans in to kiss me, but I turn my head at the last minute, so he’ll kiss my cheek. He doesn’t kiss it, though. Instead, he bites my flesh, marking me, then drags his mouth down to my shoulder blade and bites that too.

“Lucas.”

“No.” He stops, the gun still in place. The friction is gone, but his mouth hovers over my tits. “You can call me Daddy.”

My face scrunches at his words.

He moves the gun ever so slightly, then blows on my nipple, making it peak even more.

“God.” I try to push forward to get more from him. How is he making my body so reactive? It must be the shots of alcohol, it’s the only reason I can think of.

It has to be.

“If you want more, you have to use your words.” He pulls away from me, and my body is suddenly cold, then he blows on my nipple again to tease me.

“Do you plan to hurt me?” I ask another legitimate question, one that is plaguing my mind, but my body is still high from his touch.

“Only when you ask for it.”

Fuck, I think I just drooled, and not from my mouth either.

“Daddy.” It falls from my lips, and the smirk that pulls on his would make me drop my panties, literally. There is no denying Lucas is a gorgeous man. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man as good-looking. He has the perfect jaw structure, eyes that could pin you with one glance, and that body? Yes, I’m eagerly waiting to see more of it.

“I’ll reward you now.” He drops to his knees, puts his face between my legs, and his tongue—the one I hated just weeks ago because of the way he spoke to me—is now doing unholy things to me.

And I love every second of it.

His hands grip my hips, the gun now lying on the floor next to him, as he holds me to his face. He kisses my pussy, like I am something to savor, something delicious, something decadent. I’ve never had a man go out of their way to please me before.

When I first became a prostitute, I fucked outside of work, but I never got off.

I thought the problem was me.

But, clearly, I am mistaken. Because with just a few moments of him between my legs I can feel something building that I haven’t felt before. My legs feel shaky, and my head drops backward as I look up at the ceiling. His tongue works in slow, circular motions around my clit, and one hand moves between my legs as he slides two fingers into my very, very wet pussy.

He makes a humming sound, and I come undone, right there with his face buried in my pussy. I feel him move, but I’m so stuck on that emotion, that feeling, that ecstasy that I can’t even fathom saying or doing anything right now.

Is it always this good?

What have I been missing out on?

“That was fucking hot.” Lucas stands and my eyes find him. He removes his shirt, displaying a chest completely covered in ink. He’s toned, ridges upon ridges and sharp egdes—his body is absolutely perfect in all the ways possible. If you could dream of something perfect, it would be him. My hand lifts to reach out to him, and he flinches back a little at my touch but manages to stay still as my hand lays on his chest.

“What do they mean?” I ask, looking at the tattoos.

He motions to the one in the center. “It’s my family crest.”

I trace my fingers along it until I get to the lion that covers his arm.

“Most have meaning, but some are there simply because I love the pain.”

My hand drops to the one at the waistband of his trousers—a whole bunch of letters.

“Chase’s initials will be added soon.” My gaze lands on his face again, and I see he’s trying to read me. But that’s impossible, because apart from the high I’m still experiencing, I don’t feel the need to judge. And that’s a new feeling for me when it comes to him.