I’d never heard a better sentence spoken in the English language.Until twenty minutes later when we crashed onto the much-maligned sofa, and Lucas asked, “Can I try something?”
I stared up at him, already breathless and swimming in a sea of warmth.“Oh god, yes.”
Lucas levered himself up onto his knees and unzipped my trousers, swiftly ridding me of them and my pants.I joined in, elbowing out of my shirt—lest I end up in the dreaded half-naked cartoon animal state—and tentatively looked to Lucas for further instruction.He pressed his hand to my chest, lowering me flat onto the sofa cushions.Then dropped to whisper against my ear: “Roll over.”
I shivered and failed to hold back something dark and hungry that rumbled through my chest.I flipped over immediately, and at his urging, perched myself over the armrest.Lucas’s fingers trailed featherlight over my buttocks, and it was all I could do not to wriggle.
“I haven’t done this before,” he said.“Could you walk me through it?”
Oh god.“Done—” Ohgod.“Wait, aye, yes, I can, I will, but—” I gasped and clambered to my feet.Lucas’s smile faltered and his eyes widened; they were so dark and his lips so flushed I nearly lost my resolve and lay back down.“Wait here.Please.Promise I’ll be right back.”
And I ran for the toilet.Or hobbled for the shower, really.
A few moments later I was back in position, and Lucas was already kissing and giggling into the nape of my neck.He ran his tongue between my shoulder blades, down my middle back, and his hands returned to their place on my arse, a line of delicious fire running along each and every finger, then pooling in his palms.He paused with his lips hovering over my tailbone.
“Like this?”he asked, then explored the juncture with his tongue.
I audibly gulped.“Fuck.Y-yeah ...”
He dragged his tongue down the crack of my arse and Iwhimpered.
I wasn’t much help to him by way of instruction, but luckily he didn’t actually need it.This was, after all, a rather intuitive activity.I mostly managed a few broken affirmations as he spread me open and teased me, but turned completely incoherent as he pressed his tongue inside.I was a livewire, a firecracker bursting out in sputtering spirals from the hot, slippery nexus of his mouth, and the noises I was making were utterly indecent.
My knees slid desperately against the sofa, the armrest creaked under my grip, and everything about this should have been terrifyingly vulnerable—I’d never been so exposed, so open without the consequences coming round soon after to shake me down for everything but my teeth—but the pleasure was blooming through me like ink in water, in curls and tendrils that inevitably claimed every last corner for the warm, soft dark.
Right when I thought Lucas’s tongue was the undisputed king of my universe, I felt his fingers at my hip where I was grinding against the armrest.I immediately levered up on my knees and his hand slipped under me and—
“Is this good?”
I garbled something ridiculous but generally positive, then gasped and moaned as his mouth found me again, that glowing point of contact all lit up with his touch and heat and wet andfuck—
This poor, poor sofa.
Some time later, after we’d moved to the bed and I’d shown Lucas my appreciation and reciprocation several times over, we lay in a tired, happy glow.Or at least, I did.It took me a moment to realize Lucas had brought his camera to bed and was scrolling through his recent pieces.He was still pink, lips swollen, but he was frowning.
“All right, love?”I kissed his shoulder, then nuzzled it.“Obsessing over what to send the gallery lady tomorrow?”
Lucas delicately gnawed his thumbnail.“Can I run these by you?”
“Of course.”I sat us both up.
“There’s one I think I want to use, but if you don’t want me to, I won’t.”
My throat clenched, but I ignored it and indicated that he should show it to me.
He did, and the breath went out of my body.“Bloody hell, love.”
“Is it terrible?”
It was a moment before I could say anything more, so I shook my head and kissed his shoulder again.Lucas had taken a photo through the kitchen window, torn butcher’s paper edging the frame, with the cigarette butt-filled whiskey and wine bottles in the foreground lined up against the fire escape—behind them the striped sky of Croydon, an empty bottle of Old Forester, and the Saffron Tower rearing up as if in unison.
It was beautiful.
“I don’t have to use it,” Lucas said, his voice still somewhat distant.“I know it’s a little ...I mean.It’s not really mine to ...”
“Use it,” I said, then had to clear my throat.“It’s gorgeous.I understand what you’re saying—” I swallowed “—and I want you to use it.”I might get in trouble with Fire Search and Rescue, but it was nearly worth it.
He kissed my cheek.“Okay.What do you think of this one?”He showed me a few more shots, all lovely, my favorite being of a small murder of crows having what appeared to be an animated discussion atop a “diverted traffic” sign.Sleet poured all around and made the streetlamps into starbursts.
