Falling In (The Surrender Trilogy 1)

The sensation of flesh on flesh was interrupted by glossy latex. He separated her folds, and her mind retracted as he breached her opening. It was definitely his fingers before, because this was much larger.

“You’re so tight,” he whispered as he slowly rocked his hips.

Her mind had become too alert. Her arousal waned and she wanted him to bring it back. He softly grunted as he made shallow dips, poking her tender insides. Burning. A different kind. Nothing like the inner heat he stirred inside of her. This was a fire that blazed from the outside in. Nothing pleasant about it.

Friction built, detracting from the memory of the smooth glide they’d enjoyed only moments ago. Her temples grew damp with perspiration as he pressed in, burning her opening and stretching her painfully.

Scout bit her lip and when he thrust hard she whimpered. Her body stiffened like a corpse as he breathed into her shoulder.

“Jesus, Evelyn, just give me a minute . . .”

Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes and her mouth opened, but her sob was silent, trapped in her throat. She pressed her eyes shut and tried to pretend she was somewhere else.

Checkmate. Checkmate.

Lucian began to rock again and the pain subsided slightly. She let out a hard breath and his mouth kissed the corner of her lips. The more he pumped his hips forward the easier it became. Soon he was sliding in and out of her with ease. Pain fading, she slowly unclenched.

She realized she was holding his shoulders in a death grip and let her hands go lax. His hands found hers, but he didn’t hold them. Rather, he wrapped his long fingers around her wrists and pressed them at her sides into the thick, cushiony bed. A touch of fear and helplessness surged through her, blurred by the unfamiliar presence of another person inside of her. Nothing was as she expected.

She forced her eyes open. His body arched over hers like a wave, building and receding. His eyes had gone completely dark and his thick lashes hung low. His muscles bunched as his body plowed into hers and his chest wore a glistening sheen of perspiration.

His hands released hers and he reached down to where their bodies connected. He touched her there and she cried out at the long-awaited pleasure.

“Yes, Evelyn, let me hear you.”

His fingers nudged her flesh in fast concise movements. The effect was quick and intense, washing away a great deal of her confusion and fear. Her body tightened around him and he grunted, his hips pumping faster.

“Come for me,” he whispered, and there was a sudden release.

Her sex stuttered and spasmed around the part of him buried deep inside of her. She cried out as a wave broke over her, bathing her folds and easing his way. He probed faster. His fists gripped her thighs, pulling her into him as if he was not coming at her fast enough. The more he pushed into her, the longer the sensation lasted.

Slick and wet, together they fit, until finally he thrust hard and held himself buried deep inside of her. A guttural moan left his chest and his shoulders quivered. For the briefest second, she felt as though she was holding him and saw him as completely vulnerable. It was peculiar to see that flash of him so emotionally bared, unnatural and somehow secret. She blinked and breathed. That seemed the only function she had in the moment.

Lucian’s shoulders rose and fell as he caught his breath. They were hot and sticky and covered in sweat. The silk gown had become like a tourniquet around her stomach that she needed to remove. Slowly, her body reconnected with her mind. Lucian’s cock was softening, and little by little the pressure inside of her eased.

Her muscles were sore, and the tender skin between her thighs felt abused and messy. She wanted to clean herself up. Briefly, her mind touched on the fact that she’d just given herself to this man because he bought her pretty things and held the promise of better things for her and Pearl. She refused to examine that thought while he was still inside of her.

It was pleasant for a time, Lucian and her. When he kissed her, she liked it. Scout liked the way he touched her breasts and when he made her body tighten and release . . . it was insane. Sex, however, the actual act of intercourse . . . that she could do without.

Her damp skin was cooling, and she shivered. Lucian sighed, and then he withdrew from her. Her insides felt plumbed. He kissed her lips quickly and then stood. The chill of his absence weighed over her skin, seeming to take on a life of its own.

The light from the master bath flipped on. A toilet flushed and the rush of running water sounded. So clinical, lacking any sense of intimacy she may have expected. Gingerly, she rolled to the side of the bed and sat up. Her limbs ached and her muscles weren’t working right. Her arms awkwardly slid back through the straps of the gown, and she stood. Walking as if her pelvis had been stretched, she eventually made it to the hall. Scout inched her way to the powder room, ran cool water over a washcloth and cautiously cleaned her body.