Skin Deep (Skin Deep #1)

“Luke?” I said tentatively, completely turned on but a little anxious at being locked down on the bed. I moved my hands experimentally and found that the cuffs weren’t too tight and I could reach up and wrap my hands around the slats comprising the headboard of Luke’s bed.

He moved up between my thighs, spreading my legs high and wide and holding them there with his knees, leaving my smooth, wet, secret folds bare to his gaze. I moaned low in my throat at the feeling of helplessness that washed over me; I was spread open for him to do whatever he wanted to me and there was nothing I could do about it. It was thrilling and scary at the same time and it was driving me wild.

I felt him lean to the side for a moment, fumbling with something on the nightstand before he was over me again, still holding me open and helpless. He dipped his fingers into my heat again, plying the wetness there over my clit, sliding up and down over it before pushing them slowly deep inside me. I moaned, clenching my inner muscles around his invading fingers, and he pulled them out quickly.

I gasped as something blazed a trail of liquid fire down my stomach, stopping just short of my cleft. Whatever it was, it was hot, really hot, but not so hot that it was burning me. It almost felt like if you were to accidentally spill candle wax on your…holy shit! Was that what it was? Ohmigod…

Luke’s lips followed the trail, licking and nipping my skin along my ribcage and down my stomach. I felt the heat splash onto my inner thighs, making me jump and thrust my hips up at the same time. My breath whooshed out of me when I felt Luke move again, and this time something ice cold, dripping wet, and hard slid down my skin, following the trail of wax down my body, but it didn’t stop there. The iciness slipped down over my clit, spreading my folds even more before dipping slightly inside me where it rested for a second, melting and pooling in the heat of my body.

I moaned, lost in the sensations of hot and cold, and Luke reached up and pulled the blindfold off my eyes. I immediately stared down the length of my body, entranced by the wax drippings on my skin and the slightly wet tracks left on my skin from the ice, but mostly by the sight of Luke’s hard length, jutting up from the juncture of his thighs, long and thick, the tip weeping with the evidence of his desire.

As I watched, Luke pressed my thighs back further, opening me up even more before dipping the tip of himself into my hot, wet tightness, thrusting forward smoothly until he was seated as deep inside as he could get. I closed my eyes but opened them again at Luke’s harsh directive.

“Watch me, Emma, watch me inside you. Don’t close your eyes, baby,” Luke groaned, beginning a smooth, sliding rhythm in and out of me.

I watched, helpless to do otherwise, entranced by the sight of his thick, ruddy hardness cleaving into my soft, wet heat over and over again. Luke’s hips began to thrust faster, his skin slapping loudly against mine in the silence broken only by our quickened breaths and soft moans.

I gripped the slats of the headboard above my head, wishing I was free to touch him, pulling against them as my body strained and rushed toward that shattering moment of release, my hips thrusting up to meet his downward strokes, again and again before we both broke, Luke moaning loudly and me screaming out my release as my body convulsed around his, feeling him pulsing and throbbing deep inside as he filled me.

Luke released my hands from the cuffs and we cleaned up before we wrapped our arms around one another and fell into an exhausted but satisfied slumber.

Chapter 16

Thanksgiving dawned bright and early and I woke with a smile on my face, the memories of last night washing over me and making me ache with want again. Luke was still sleeping beside me, and I carefully threw my leg over him after moving the sheet back, sliding my growing wetness against his slumbering length, loving the feel of it as it started thickening against me.

Before it fully engorged, I guided it into my heat, moaning softly at the feel of it stretching me as it hardened. Luke twitched under me, his hands coming up to grasp my hips as he blinked his sleepy but gorgeous eyes at me.

“Mmmm, sugar…what a way to wake up.” He smiled but it faltered as I squeezed him with my inner muscles and began sliding up and down on him, riding his hardness. We moved together, making love slowly and thoroughly before collapsing beside each other, tenderly kissing and touching softly as our bodies cooled.

We laid there catching our breath before rising to get ready for the day. I was a little nervous about taking Luke and Brandon to my parents’ house for Thanksgiving, though I knew I shouldn’t be. I mean, they’ve been coming to Sunday breakfast for a while now, and if that hadn’t made them run for the hills then I should be in the clear, right? I was already giving thanks that Jackson wouldn’t be subjected to the craziness, but I knew my family, and holidays around the Jensen house are anything but normal.

Take last year, for example. My father, God love him, decided that he was going to deep fry the turkey, so he went out and bought one of those fancy turkey fryer thingies. The turkey came out black (I mean BLACK!) on the outside, but was actually the most delicious turkey we’d had. Doesn’t sound bad, I know, but then, since he had gallons of peanut oil left over, he started frying everything he could get his hands on. We’re talking scoops of stuffing that he dumped into the oil, scoops of macaroni and cheese, cheese sticks that he had found in the back of the freezer, pieces of sliced turkey that he breaded with Andy’s Hot and Spicy chicken breading (that was actually good, by the way) and whatever else he could get his hands on. Mom drew the line at the green bean casserole and cranberry jelly, much to Dad’s dismay.

The only good thing that came out of that Thanksgiving was that we now have fry nights where we all chip in and bring over different foods and Mom (Dad gave up) fries everything up and we all stuff ourselves sick. But, back to the not normal part of Thanksgiving last year. Since everyone tried pretty much everything Dad fried (like we had a choice), the evening turned into Night of the Living Flatulence and Bathroom Runs; and Mom and Dad only have one bathroom. People did things that night in the woods at the back of the yard that we don’t speak of. Ever.

After we got showered and dressed, Luke and I headed downstairs to make sure Brandon was up and ready. I had no idea where he had disappeared to last night, and frankly, I was glad he had been gone. The things that Luke had made me scream…

Brandon was coming out of his bedroom, fully dressed, bright-eyed, and bushy tailed. Okay, the last one was Doug, who was following Brandon, wagging his whole back end like mad while trying to walk. It made him look like an unsteady, malformed duck. I laughed when he waddled his way over to me and sat on his haunches at my feet, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he cocked his head at me.

I shook my head at him and grinned at Luke, who was laughing at Doug. “He wants to come for Thanksgiving dinner, too,” he said.

I shrugged. “Okay. He can come. Mom and Dad won’t mind, especially because they love labs, and the kids will adore him.” I looked back at Doug again. “You wanna go bye-bye, Doug?” I cooed.

He jumped up and started prancing around me in wide circles, stopping by the front door with every rotation. Luke handed me his leash to put in my purse and we all headed out to the car. I grabbed the Bourbon Banana Nut Bread that I had made in the slow cooker (yummy) from where I had hidden it in the canned vegetable cabinet. This was the second one that I had made because the guys hadn’t taken me seriously when I told them not to eat it because it was for Thanksgiving. It was gone in less than an hour.