Whatever was holding Luke back shatters. The dam fragments, and Luke finally gives in, the full force of his weight coming down as he thrusts between my legs, stealing my breath.
“I want you.” His hand closes around my throat. “I want you so badly, I’m going to fuck that sick bastard right out of your head.” He holds me against the bed, and the knife appears at my collar. I hear the tear of material as he cuts my shirt before cold air touches
bare skin. He rips my shirt the rest of the way down with his hands.
Panic hitches my breath, fearful for a brief moment about what I’ve unleashed. My nails search for purchase in his shoulders, and I dig in, clenching his shirt to find some measure of control.
His gaze roams over me, taking in my bared breasts, and I see the hunger there—what I never saw in Hudson’s eyes, that raw, wanton desire. Luke looks at me like he wants to possess me, consume me. As if it’s almost painful, if he can’t be inside me.
And it’s the most intoxicating feeling. I’m drunk on the power of it; that I can own him so completely.
His head dips down as he moves in to taste me. I hold my breath in anticipation, the feel of his hair grazing my jaw sending tremors of lust to my belly. He starts at my neck, the softest kiss…and it’s torture. I’m shaking, whether from nerves or fear or panic, I don’t know. But I want this—I want him. As he presses me into the mattress, his mouth trails over my jawline before his thumb tilts my chin up and he captures my mouth.
All thoughts cease as his tongue delves deeply, tangling with mine in a sensuous kiss that is in complete contrast to the coarse feel of his palm mapping my body.
I moan into the kiss, and that’s all it takes—one desperate sound to send him over the edge. He grips the hem of my panties, bunching them in a tight fist. His hips bear down hard against mine, pinning me to the bed, as he tears the thin material from my hip. Then he’s tracing a path across my pelvis and thigh, before he cups my ass firmly in his large palm, his fingers seeking lower…
Luke moves to my ear, his breaths heavy. “Are you a virgin here?”
I expel a frantic breath, my eyes sealed closed at the feel of his finger pressed to my anus. “Yes.”
He groans and nips my earlobe, making my thighs flex at his hips. “Don’t be gentle,” I tell him. Hudson used me to fulfill some twisted need, and I thought it was normal. To be treated so delicately. But it was a ruse. I was his cover, to protect him. “Do what you want, as hard as you want.”
I need to feel what it’s like to be ravished, overwhelmed in all the wrong ways when a man can’t help himself. The stuff romance novels are made of. Hot, dirty sex that makes you scream.
As if I needed to give him permission, Luke’s weight disappears, the sensation making me gasp, as he gravitates down my body, his mouth and hands worshipful as he seeks the apex between my thighs. He spreads my legs wider and, with the heel of his hand, presses against my clit, making my hips buck off the mattress.
Then his finger sinks inside, his thumb pinned to the nub, the sharp sensation keeping my ass lifted. I push my hands above my head to find the wall. I hold myself there as his mouth surrounds my sex, and his fingers work to open me up to him.
Pressure builds; I feel everything, everywhere, and that’s probably the point. Too much stimulation and I can’t focus on the pain in my rectum. His tongue flicks over my clit with pulsing rhythm, lighting me up inside. I’m a bundle of electrified nerves as I pant to control my breathing.
My chest aches in the best way, every stroke of his tongue fuses with the feel of his probing fingers, and I’m a livewire for pleasure. Every erroneous thought enters my mind. How this should feel so wrong, dirty. How I should be in pain—but I’m on the cusp of a fucking climax.
All sensation stops, and my back falls against the mattress. Luke lifts up and reaches behind his head. He tugs off his shirt, revealing the hard planes of his chest, the sinew and muscle I’ve only felt. The sharp curve of his V muscle dips below his jeans, and I follow that erotic path as he crawls over me, simultaneously lowering his zipper. That sound sparks a throbbing ache, then the feel of his smooth cock pressed to my center makes me clench deep inside.
“I want you…and I want you wrapped around my cock when you come.” His mouth descends on mine, stealing my reason, and I wrap my legs around his hips and use my feet to push his jeans down.
He only breaks the kiss long enough to shove my torn shirt up and over my head, where he fastens it around my wrists, holding my arms captive above me. Then his body is covering mine, his hard length rubbing against my clit, slicking my lips as he opens me and then thrusts inside.
I fasten my eyes shut against the feel of him pushing in—all the way in. His dark groan rumbles against my ear, and my body reacts, taking all of him. There are heated curses escaping our lips as he pulls out just enough before he drives inside me again. And he’s not gentle. He tightens his grasp on the shirt, sealing my wrists together, as his hips slam against mine. He circles his other arm around my thigh and hooks my knee, dragging my leg up so that he can fuck me as hard and as deeply as he wants.
I beg him to keep going. I don’t understand the words falling from my mouth, but they’re an impassioned rush of pleas and commands every time he pulls out, cries of pleasure each time he thrusts deeper.
His branding touch cleanses my mind and body of any thoughts of the past—of any and all touches from Hudson. I understand what Luke meant now at the burn site. How fire purifies. I feel as if I’m being seared from the inside out; all the tarnished pieces, every bit of damage, burned away, so that new growth can happen.
As he loses control, he finally releases my arms so I can touch him. I find the back of his neck and hold him against me, or me to him. We’re woven together so tightly we move as one. I feel the moment he’s on the brink, his thrusts coming faster, his cock inside me growing harder, and I’m there also—my body clenching around him as he drives inside me one last time and stays there, his harsh growl rushing through me as I shatter.
“Christ…” he says, his breathing hot against my shoulder.
I splay my fingers in his hair, gripping there for a moment as I crash.
“I want more,” I hear myself say. Just the once…and I’m an addict. I’m not even embarrassed to admit this. Being desired is addictive to someone who’s never truly felt it. “I want you to touch every inch of my body,” I whisper.
He lifts up onto his elbows, his blue irises so clear it’s startling. “You’re going to wreck me.”
I stop breathing, but then his mouth catches mine, and air blasts my lungs. Like the moment he gave me mouth to mouth, I feel resuscitated. Alive.
Luke rolls me on top of him, and I ride him until I’m spent. We fuck up against the walls, the cellar door. I claw my nails over the hard concrete as he penetrates me and drives all the lurking demons from the dark corners of my mind.