I crash my lips against hers in a feverish kiss—all teeth, tongue, desperation. My fingers tangle in her hair. I pull her head back to deepen the kiss, plunging my tongue into her mouth.
She whimpers.
“You taste like heaven,” I murmur.
I cover her with my body. It’s soothing. It’s frustrating. I grind my erection against her pussy, and she gasps into my mouth, her delicate hands clutching at my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll disappear, that she’ll wake up from a dream.
I feel it, too. A need to own. A need to hold. A need forher—stark, raw, unfathomable.
“Caro,” she moans, her voice breaking.
The endearment makes me lose it. I trail my lips down her neck, sucking marks into her flawless skin. I jerk up the soft shirt she’s wearing, removing it.
I look down and push my hips against her, wanting inside her.
She’s a virgin!
I remove her bra. Her nipples are tight, hard peaks.
“So beautiful.”
I thumb them, stroke them. She moves restlessly beneath me. She wants more.
“I’ll take care of you.”
Today. Tomorrow. Forever.
I don’t want this to happen on the couch. That sense of ownership I feel demands a more intimate space.
I get up and, before she can protest, haul her up in a fireman’s lift.
“Lucian,” she giggles.
I slap her ass.
I take her to my bed. No woman has ever slept here. I don’t fuck in my home. I don’t bring women here. Hell, no one but my brothers and the cleaning service have been inside.
And nowher.
I pull her pants away.
“You’re still wearing all your clothes,” she complains.
“Yes.”
Because if I get naked I’m going to fuck you, and you’re not ready for me.
I get rid of her panties in a swift motion.
I stop, stare, memorize.
She’s bare before me, her pussy glistening with arousal, her tight little cunt begging for my touch. I stroke a finger down her slit, and she moans.
Yes, baby, just like that.
I kiss her stomach, tease her navel. I hold her hips with my hands as I do.
I don’t want her to move. I don’t want her to make me lose control. I don’t want to hurt her. I only want to give her pleasure.
