“I don’t feel bad about that. You’ve got the wrong idea.”
All I can do is roll my eyes. We both know he’s lying. “I’m just saying, I didn’t feel the same way when you did it as when they did. When they came on me, it was disgusting. I kind of wanted to die. But it wasn’t the same with you. I just figured you might want to know that.”
And now I really wish I had never opened my mouth because my face is burning hotter than the sun, and my heart is pounding, and I don’t quite understand why. I shouldn’t be embarrassed, but in a way, I am because I didn’t realize until after that I liked what he did and only freaked out at the moment when it was clearly meant to be a warning. But there’s more because the only difference between those two experiences is the men who came on me.
When Rick and Bruno did it, I was just as helpless and under their control as I was with Lucas.
If anything, Lucas was rougher. At least those two never touched me—not sexually, anyway. They didn’t force me to suck their cocks before coming on me. There wasn’t any face fucking from them.
And I still didn’t hate it nearly as much. Because he’s… him. He’s hot, commanding, gruff. He’s not nasty, sloppy, and gross like they were. He knows that now. At least, he’s looking at me like he does, eyeing me from across the table while we eat. I would break the silence, but I didn’t know what to say. I’m too embarrassed to speak, not to mention worried I’ll embarrass myself even more if I do.
Every time I glance his way, he’s staring. I wish I didn’t blush so easily, but I can’t help it. I’ve seen that look before, from him, from other men. Only, unlike all those other men, he doesn’t make my skin crawl. Unlike Nash, I don’t feel like I have to act all sexy to keep him interested.
I want him to look at me. I want him to do more than that, even though I can hardly breathe, and my stomach’s fluttering so much I don’t know how much more I can eat. But I’m not uncomfortable. It’s more exciting than disturbing. Like he’s looking at my clothes but seeing the body underneath.
It’s never been like this. I don’t know what to do with the heat stirring up in my core. I’m getting wet, too. He hasn’t touched me, and I’m getting wet.
What would happen if he touched me?
Our eyes meet, and I have to force myself to look away again when my breath catches. He clears his throat and shifts around in his chair. “Had enough?”
Oh, right. We were eating. “I think so.” He holds out a hand, and I give him my plate. When our fingers brush together, there’s an almost painful tingling response in my pussy. It’s a relief when he turns his back and goes to the sink. I lean against the back of the chair, weak and way too out of breath.
He clears the table quickly, silently, wearing a grim expression. What’s he thinking? I can’t keep sitting here like an idiot. “I guess… I’ll go back to my homework,” I mumble, even if that’s the last thing I want to do when there’s a feeling of something hanging unfinished between us.
When he doesn’t try to stop me, I get up, my heart sinking. It’s better this way, obviously. But I don’t have to like it.
I’m halfway to the guest room when suddenly, there’s an arm around my waist. “What are you—” Surprise steals the rest of my question when Lucas steers me back to the table, pushing me up against it.
Then he keeps going, laying me back against the cool wood. “I don’t understand.” He doesn’t say a word, running his hands up my legs instead. Oh, god, yes. My eyes close, and I sigh before I know what I’m doing. Not like I could help it if I tried. Not when his touch is what I want the most.
Still, it can’t be right. I have to at least figure out what he’s trying to do. Why now? What does he want from me? My pussy, obviously, or my mouth. Both, probably.
I can’t pretend it isn’t hot, being on the table like this. The idea he couldn’t even wait to get me into the bedroom. When I think of it that way, the heat brewing between my legs intensifies.
He pulls down my leggings in one quick motion, so abruptly, I squeal in surprise. A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth before he runs his hands over my bare calves, knees, and thighs. Pleasure closes my eyes again, and it only gets more intense the higher his hands slide. The closer they are to the place where I ache the most.