Cheater (Curious Liaisons 1)
I gulped.
His eyes seemed to darken as if a switch had been flipped. I was in his territory, where he ruled—and I had no idea how to proceed.
The last time I had sex hadn’t been so great.
It was rushed.
It was a blur.
It was messy.
Awkward.
Embarrassing.
I left with one sock.
“Tell me if I hurt you,” he warned, his voice on edge like he was about to pounce or something—and then, with a wicked grin, he charged me, gripped me by the hips, and flung me farther up on the bed.
Like he was a freaking superhuman.
I’d love to say being manhandled was horrible. Lucas Thorn, boo, you suck in bed—well, may as well make my grocery list while he does what guys do.
Nope.
False.
I bounced once.
“Don’t move.”
I licked my lips and watched in utter fascination as black slacks fell to the floor.
He made black boxer briefs look too sexy. But of course he did.
And then he tilted his head and ran one hand up my right leg, pulling my thong down with his fingers before tossing it on the floor. I hadn’t worn a bra with my dress, so now I was naked.
What happened to fast?
Like, Oh look—let’s take off our clothes, have sex, and get the awkward staring at each other part over with?
He didn’t do fast.
His hand slid up my right leg again, and then the man hooked my leg up on his shoulder and flashed me a cocky grin. “You’re gorgeous.”
I would have argued, but I had no voice.
We locked eyes.
And I almost passed out when he lowered his head. I opened my mouth, assuming he was going to kiss me.
“Thorn!” I yelled. “Totally not necess—” Words. I lost them completely as he pressed his lips at my center and swirled his tongue. Warmth pooled where he was kissing, and my entire body went red-hot and then cold again, only to get hotter and hotter as he worked magic that mere mortals with penises should never possess! I accidentally smacked his head and used the opportunity to grab a fistful of his hair. At the moment holding on for dear life and trying not to lose my mind while he devoured every inch of me like I was his own brand of chocolate seemed like a good choice.
His head popped up. “You were saying?”
“Nothing.” I sighed, aching for more of what he’d just been doing. “Absolutely nothing. I’m silent. Mute.” I released his hair and sucked in a breath as his eyes locked on mine.
“Well, we don’t want that either.” He disappeared again.
My muscles flexed, contracted. He added fingers to his tongue until I felt so thoroughly worked over, I was certain I would explode. Fire raced through my veins and gathered where he was sucking and licking and thrusting with his fingers. The room dimmed, and I realized I’d forgotten to breathe. When I gulped in air, my arms and legs went numb and tingly. Is that what Lucas Thorn did? He gave women strokes in the bedroom?
I released his head a second time as a white-hot sensation rushed over my lady bits, slamming into me in rapid succession. I let out a scream. “THORN!”
He said my name against my skin, sent a vibration through me, giving the impression that I had the most beautiful name in the world. He murmured it once more, and little aftershocks rocked me.
I became lost in my own desire again.
I was happy to stay there forever.
Or until he got tired.
Amazingly, the man’s mouth was good for something. “Thorn!”
I needed him to stop.
Or keep going.
Or just give me a two-second time-out before I lost my mind. Just when I felt like I couldn’t take any more of his moves, he jerked away from me and said gruffly, “I can’t take it anymore.”
“Oh thank God!” I reached for his head the minute he reached for mine, our mouths fused together in a frenzy of tongue sucking and near teeth knocking. I tasted what had to be me on his lips, and it only made me want him more. In the hazy distance I recalled this was Thorn. Lucas Thorn. Someone who’d broken my sister’s heart, someone who cheated, someone who was bad, but was still so, so, so good . . .
There was something oddly arousing about the sound of our kissing, of our bodies hitting the sheets, crumpling them.
Lucas groaned as I jerked his briefs violently down his legs and kicked them off the rest of the way.
“What? No more patience?” he teased between searing kisses.
“No.” I kissed him harder, my hands digging into his muscular back as our bodies rubbed against one another. Fierce, aching need between my thighs drove my hips upward, pressing against his thigh.
I could kiss him all night long.
And not get tired of it.
But I suddenly wanted more.
His cheek rubbed against my face as he cupped my breast. “I didn’t even spend any time—”
“Not now!” I smacked his hand away, my body dying for the release his mouth had earlier promised.
“Sorry!” He gripped my ass and pulled me to my knees. “I got distracted.”
“No more!” I shoved his chest.
He let out a rough exhale and then chuckled. “Angry makeup sex, and we haven’t even been fighting . . . incredible.”
“If you want to tie me up, just say it. Otherwise, get on with it.” I winked and then wrapped my arms around his neck; my legs followed as I straddled him on the bed. Desperation burst through me. My already sensitive nipples hardened as they brushed against his chest, and chills spread outward, raising goose bumps all over my body.
“If I knew it would make you stay—I probably would,” he admitted. The smile fell from his face briefly before he let out a moan and touched his forehead against mine, then pushed his erection against my thigh. “I need to be inside you, I need to feel you.”
I nodded as searing waves of anticipated pleasure throbbed at my core.
“Avery—” He groaned again as I ground against his hips, easing some of the craving between my legs.
“Yes?”
“Just”—his breath hitched—“just tell me if it hurts.”
I silenced him with my mouth, hoping to end that certain conversation about my past sexual experience. Then I shocked myself by guiding him exactly where I needed him to be, not that a man like him needed help.
I just wanted to be in control of it.
Because that would end up protecting me, right?
Protection! Oh God!
“THORN!” I wriggled away from his hard length even as my body protested the move with a surge of pulsing desire. “Condom,” I gasped, feeling like a complete tease.
“Shit.” He stared at me in horror. “Avery
, I completely forgot.”
Part of me deflated just a little, but I didn’t ask if that happened often. I did notice he was shaking when I pulled away so he could walk over to the nightstand.
I was ready to die.
I wanted him that badly.
“Could you walk any slower?” I demanded, my body twitching with anticipation.
He burst out laughing. “I figured it was better this way.” Seriously, an ant carrying a picnic basket could have walked faster. His eyes lit up with amusement. “You know, to make you so desperate for me that it consumes you the way it’s consuming me—the way it’s consumed me ever since you walked that tight ass into my office.”
I gasped, more turned on than I’d ever been in my entire life, damn him.
“So, yeah, I’ll walk slower.” He pulled a foil packet out of the nightstand and walked toward me. The foil crinkled as he tore it open. “I’ll go as slow as I can because a woman like Avery Black should be savored.”
I gulped.
I knew he shouldn’t say things like that to me.
Tenderness made me want what wasn’t mine.
He made me want more than Wednesday.
My eyes filled with tears, and I looked away and forced my emotions out of the situation, which just meant later I was going to end up crying into a box of chocolates while I dipped a serving spoon into a carton of rocky road.
He leaned over the bed and kissed me, and then very slowly pushed me back against the mattress. His hands grabbed mine as he pressed openmouthed kisses to my neck, his tongue making trails down my jaw, until he nudged my knees wider apart and I felt him press into me, stretching me, filling me.
It felt familiar.
It felt right.
Like coming home.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
LUCAS
It felt wrong.
Because of how right it felt.
With other women, I was easily able to objectify the situation—to go to that place in my head where, in each instance, I truly convinced myself we were in a mutually beneficial relationship that meant I pleased her, she pleased me, and eventually we both moved on.
I was a jackass.
And the minute I felt Avery’s tight body surrounding mine—I knew.
This would end badly.