The warm hand on my neck yanked, hauling me up to him abruptly. His mouth crashed against mine, and it drove me down further on his fingers. It stung. I wasn’t used to so much, and not so suddenly. My hands flattened on his shoulders to push him back, but then the fingers were moving, just as his tongue was moving in my mouth. It was too hot to stop him, and the sting gave way to pleasure.
“What else?” he asked between immobilizing kisses.
“What else, what?” Everything was spinning when I closed my eyes, so I had no choice but to leave them open. I’d moved onto phase two of drunkenness, the spins.
“What else do you want me to do, Addison?” He moved at a leisurely tempo while his gaze was fixated on my mouth.
I couldn’t vocalize. I was far too shy to speak them out loud. Instead, I curled my grip into the meaty parts of his arms, digging my nails in. I couldn’t say anything, but I no longer had shame or anxiety about how I was acting. His touch liberated the wildness I always kept tamped down. I wasn’t worried he knew I fantasized about him, although I was certain regret would come later. Not now, though. All I could do was marvel at how good he made me feel.
Electricity roved over my skin as he increased the pace his fingers slid in and out. My knees trembled and locked around his hips, doing so without any authorization from me. Luka’s palm inched down my neck with each deep thrust he gave. I both wanted and didn’t want him to touch me where he was headed. My body ached for it, but my chest was heaving and he’d be able to feel how hard my heart was pounding.
His soft, damp lips were pressed to mine, swallowing my moan, and then he was lifting my breast. The weight of it filled his hand, and a thumb slid back and forth, teasing the nipple through my shirt and bra.
I could barely breathe. Luka’s hands worked flawlessly, touching me just as I wanted them to, holding me on the cusp of something new and interesting. I’d never been with a confident partner before, and now I was sure I didn’t want to go back.
His fingers captured my nipple between the layers of fabric and pinched. The tension built as he squeezed harder and harder, but his tongue filled my mouth and kept me quiet when he closed in on pain. It was a weird sensation as his pinch grew hot and achy. I . . . liked it. I wanted to know how much more I could take.
Yet it grew past the point of tolerable. I inhaled sharply when it became too much, and both his lips and his pinch were gone, making me sway in his absence. Luka’s expression was deadly serious, as if deep in concentration.
“Oh!” I bucked when the pad of his thumb circled above where his fingers were driving. It was fireworks. Bliss sparked and flared, and made me crazy with need. It had to hurt, how I was digging my fingernails into his flesh, but he said nothing. There was no indication in his expression that I was hurting him.
His lips parted to draw in a single breath, and then he slowly blew it out, all while watching me squirm beneath him.
“Shit,” I moaned under my breath.
The corner of his mouth curled up. Luka liked this reaction. His fingers slowed to a stop but stayed inside, lingering. Was he judging me, and more importantly, did I pass whatever test he was putting me through? He withdrew his fingers and they trailed up through my slit. “Did you think about me putting my mouth here?”
I jolted. I had, but I was too nervous to say it.
His face hardened, like he was annoyed I hadn’t answered him. “Open your mouth.”
It was easy to do since my mouth fell open on his command. And then his wet fingers were there, smearing my own taste on my lips. He shoved them inside and I closed my mouth around them, causing Luka’s nostrils to flare. He pulsed the fingers in and out, simulating how he most likely wanted me to use my mouth on him.
The salty, slightly sweet taste of myself wasn’t unpleasant, but the action . . . It was so dirty, I shuddered. He leaned in and set his mouth against mine, tasting me in more than one way. When had I surrendered to him so completely? Was it that first moment he’d kissed me, or before, when I’d agreed to another round of blackjack downstairs? Maybe it had been from the very beginning. My crush on him had been intense, but that made sense to me. I didn’t half-ass anything in my life, so why would my infatuation with him be any different?