Oh fuck, it was us.
He kissed me with filthy wet lace between our tongues, and my senses were burning, and my body was bucking against his, panting and moaning and grabbing him tight.
Crazy.
Hot.
Lucas.
This was the Lucas Pierce I’d fallen in love with. No restraints. No judgement. No barriers.
Unapologetic wants. Unapologetic filth. Unapologetic him.
He made me come for him all over again in dirty wet sheets, with dirty wet knickers between our open mouths, and I was lost. Lost to the explosion. Nothing else but the sensations and my heart burning bright.
I was still breathing frantic when I broke the kiss enough to meet his eyes, and he knew what I wanted. He was already moving with his cock in his grip before I said the words.
“Come in my mouth,” I whispered. “Please, Lucas, come in my mouth.”
He angled my head back and kneeled over me, and his cock was rising high, precum dripping as he stared down at my wide open mouth. The lace was on my tongue, and he stretched it tight across my lips, working his dick so hard I could hear the wetness.
“Take it like my dirty bitch,” he groaned, and then he came. A spurt of pure fucking cream that drenched my face, splattering my open mouth and my cheeks along with it, but the fountain kept on going, another stream landing right in my eye.
Fuck, I wanted it all.
He was shuddering when he finished.
So was I.
“Holy fuck, Anna,” he said, and lowered himself back down, his chest to mine. I wrapped my legs around him, and he was warm, and strong, and everything I’d ever wanted.
I didn’t need to ask him to kiss me, he was already there. He licked his cum from my cheek and pushed his tongue into my mouth all over again. And there was no shame in me. No urge to rush to my feet and disguise my weakness. No hating myself for my disgusting bodily functions and how I couldn’t control them.
My soul soared.
My heart burst free and made me fly.
I was happy. So damn happy I could touch the sky.
Lucas was catching his breath when he finally pulled away and took the knickers from my mouth. He rolled onto his back and dropped them onto his stomach like some kind of victory banner before reaching out for my hand.
He squeezed my fingers and he was grinning at the ceiling.
So was I.
I was grinning too.
And then I was laughing.
“I’ve got spunk eye,” I giggled, and I did have. I could feel it getting sore already, certain it would be bloodshot in minutes.
He was laughing along with me, and it was a beautiful sound. “Well, dirty girl. I think it’s safe to say I won’t be treating you like a china doll anytime soon.”
I caught my breath myself, and we relaxed into the buzz of the aftermath, holding each other tight – until the practicalities of Sunday morning eventually kicked in on us.
It was time to get moving.
My meds were easy to grab from my suitcase, and I took those with juice while Lucas stripped the bed.
There was no self-consciousness inside me at all as he bundled the sheets up in the laundry. I was still grinning hard as we brushed our teeth in tandem and I smoothed my ragged hair down into some semblance of order.
We were having breakfast and watching the dogs charging around in the yard when conversation inevitably made its way around to the day before – but today it landed on somewhere it hadn’t stopped before.
It landed on Nicola grabbing him in the hallway before we left the apartment yesterday.
“She said I need to talk to Yasmin Boyle,” Lucas said, and pulled a face of confusion. “Do you have any clue what the hell Yasmin Boyle would have to talk to me about? I haven’t seen her in years.”
I shrugged. “She doesn’t like Maya. She was trying to tell me so at girls’ night, and then again at Amy Miller’s wedding, but I didn’t listen. I couldn’t bring myself to hear it. Didn’t seem relevant.”
“She doesn’t like Maya?” he asked, and his confusion intensified. “They used to be great friends when we got together.”
“Not anymore,” I told him. “She definitely doesn’t like her now. She said I owe her nothing. She said neither of us do.”
He finished up his toast and grabbed his phone, and I stared over as he flicked through his contacts.
“She’s in Newcastle now, I think. I don’t have her number.”
“I’ll get it.”
I grabbed my phone from my bag, and pinged Nicola since she must have had some contact details to get her to girls’ night.
I also asked her what was so important about Lucas speaking to Yasmin Boyle, but all I got back was a number and a Get Lucas to ask her himself.