17. Luna

Chapter 17

Luna

H is mouth drops open a little. I can see the outline of his cock through the fabric of his pants. I lean forward and rest my cheek against it, stroking it with one hand while the other snakes around to grab his ass.

He groans, and it sounds like sin laced with treacle.

He leans into my touch. I open my mouth and gently bite him through the fabric. "Fuck," he murmurs.

The power and dominance in his voice sends shivers down my spine. I am his, and he knows it. I have finally agreed to give myself completely to him, to let him lead me into the darkest corners of desire. And right now, I can barely contain my excitement.

He lowers his head to mine and our lips meet once again, this time with a hunger I have never experienced before. His tongue slides into my mouth, exploring every inch, and I moan softly, my hands tangled in his hair. I can feel his arousal growing harder against me.

I pull away from him and stare up into his eyes. His gaze is intense. "Will it please you to touch me?" he asks.

Instinctively, I nod.

But then he grasps my chin, and his eyes darken. "Will it please you?" he asks me again in a tone that makes me sit back a little and blink up at him.

"If touching me gives you pleasure, I welcome it," he breathes. "If taking my cock in your mouth and feeling me in your throat will make you wet, and send shivers to your beautiful pussy, then I welcome it." He moves closer, so there is barely any distance between us now.

"But you will not do anything just because you think it is what I want from you. Is that clear?"

"Yes." My voice is barely there at all. Arousal constricts in my chest and between my legs.

"Then I will ask you again. Will it please you?" He stares at me, and I feel as though I will never ever be able to lie to him. As if he will know it the second an untruth passes my lips.

In response, I drop to my knees before him, my hands shaking with anticipation. "Just the thought of it pleases me."

Lucien sighs and closes his eyes.

As I undo his pants, I can feel the room getting warmer. Like our bodies are already generating enough heat to fuel a furnace.

His cock is hard, and thick, and I find myself thinking that it is beautiful.

I study him for a moment, then I reach out and take him in my hand, stroking him slowly, savoring the feel of him in my palm.

Instinctively, I spit into my hand and use it to moisten his shaft.

I look up, and Lucien's gaze collides with mine.

He is watchin me as if he has never seen anything so wonderful.

No one has ever looked at me like that.

He places one gentle hand on the back of my head but does not push me toward him. Just leaves it there as if he is reassuring me that I'm doing a good job.

I open my mouth and lick a slow, delicious line from the base of his cock to the tip. Then I swirl my tongue around him, tasting the first salty drop of pleasure.

He moans loudly, then mutters my name. Our eyes lock, and I can see the fire in his. Small sparkling freckles of crimson that dance in his gaze as he stares at me.

I slide a hand down between my legs.

He watches me for a moment, but when I start to move faster, he grabs my chin and stops me. "Not yet, kitten," he says. "It is my job to make you purr."

He pulls me up with a gentle force, and I follow his lead, my heart pounding, my body tingling with an almost unbearable heat.

His hand moves to my chest. His fingers trace the top of the bath towel to where it is tucked beneath my arm. Slowly, he flicks the fabric so it falls to the floor.

He stands back and admires me.

That is the only word for it... admiration.

And instead of feeling like I need to cover myself up, I let him stare. I watch his eyes trail over my breasts, my stomach, the swell of my hips, the roundness of my thighs. He signals with his finger for me to turn around.

I move in a slow circle, allowing him to see every last inch of my body.

When I am facing him again, he tells me to sit down.

"Right there, on the edge," he says. But then he frowns. "Would you be more comfortable lying down?"

I open my mouth to reply but the answer quivers on my tongue. Why is it so hard to ask for what I want? Even when he is offering it to me? Why do I feel afraid to say the wrong thing? Even to a man who means nothing to me?

He doesn't need me to answer. He scoops me effortlessly into his arms and sets me down in the middle of the bed. He props me up on the pillows then takes one and positions it under my lower back. I wriggle down just a little, and he smiles.

A real smile. As if he is truly pleased I am comfortable.

"Would you take off your clothes?" The question leaves my mouth before I have time to think about it. When Lucien smirks at me, I smile back. "I want to see you," I whisper. "All of you."

He is standing at the foot of the bed now. Nodding, he slides his black braces off his shoulders, then unfastens his shirt. When he takes it off, I feel my eyes widen. I sink back a little onto the pillows, staring at him.

His arms are toned and muscular, his chest and shoulders broad and perfectly sculpted. And there is the exact right amount of dark, tantalizing hair peppering his stomach. Leading down to his waistband, where his fingers are unfastening his belt.

Dropping his pants to the floor, he steps out of them and allows me to stare a moment longer before he crawls onto the bed and eases open my legs.

I stare down at him, amazed by the look of excitement on his face.

He holds my thighs apart, gently but with a strength that makes my breath catch in my chest.

He is so much stronger than me, and the fact he is so very aware of having to be gentle with my body makes my head spin; he is not just aware of it, he is putting my comfort and pleasure above his own.

And that is something I have never experienced before.

Something I never even knew existed.

"Fuck, Luna..." He traces one finger over my wet, sensitive core. "Do you know how many times I've thought about this?"

He looks up at me and the intense, piercing, eye contact makes me gasp. He keeps staring at me while he kisses my inner thighs, drawing slow deliberate patterns on my skin.

He lets out a low growl and flashes his fangs at me.

Does he want to bite me? Is he contemplating it right now? Sinking his teeth into my flesh and sucking, and sucking.

He reaches the scars that tell the story of my pain.

I remember each one.

I remember what I was feeling, and how much I was hurting.

And he kisses them. One by one — pressing his lips to them, then stroking with soft fingers as if he might be able to erase them. Or make them mean something else. Something beautiful.

He rests his cheek on the inside of my thigh and strokes me for the longest time.

Not my pussy.

Everything except my pussy.

His hands roam my legs, my hips, my stomach.

Then finally, when I am whimpering for his touch on my clit, he presses his lips to it and begins to suck.

I feel the vibrations in my core as he uses his tongue and his mouth to explore me.

It is as if he is reading my sounds, and my movements. When I moan, he gives me more. If I tilt my hips toward him, he gives me more.

He is fast, and slow, and hard, and soft, and everything in between.

I arch my back, my hips bucking as I feel his tongue dancing on my sensitive spots, his fingers teasing the edges of my pussy.

I grab his hair, and he looks up at me with a mischievous smile.

"I need your fingers inside me." I plead with him.

He obliges immediately, hooking two fingers inside and moving them in tandem with his tongue.

Pleasure ricochets through me.

It is almost unbearable.

"Please, don't stop." I am grinding my hips, gripping the pillows. My whole body is on fire, and my skin is laced with sweat.

He knows I'm close, that I can't hold back any longer. He keeps the same rhythm, doesn't change it or slow down or speed up. I cry out in pleasure. He laps at me, his tongue flicking against my clit and sending shockwaves through my body.

I can feel the pleasure building inside me. It is going to consume me at any moment. My breath hitches. I bunch my fist and slam it into the mattress while Lucien continues his relentless assault, his lips and tongue working together to unleash the most intense orgasm I've ever experienced.

As I come, my entire body trembles. It coils tighter and tighter, and as the wave of pleasure subsides, sweeping back through my limbs, my muscles weaken. My eyes roll, and all I can do is lie back on the pillows, panting, unable to think about anything except the way he made me feel.

Lucien nibbles the inside of my thigh. He stokes me gently, then uses his tongue to clean my wetness. This time, though, he is not trying to turn me on. He is soft and tender.

When he sits up, kneeling in front of me, his cock is glistening with precum, and he is touching himself.

I bite my lower lip and smile at him. "Thank you," I whisper.

"You are exquisite when you come," he replies, fist still wrapped around his swollen shaft.

"I'd like to know what you look like when you come." I sit up, deliberately keeping my legs open. I slide my hand between my legs. "And I'd like to know if watching you will turn me on enough to make me come again."