She bends down, her lips hovering just a hair's breadth from mine, her breath hot and sweet against my skin. "And so, so handsome." She licks her lips and straddles me. "Lucian," she whispers, "make love to me. Now."
Well, fuck. My eyes snap open, and I stare at her like a deer caught in the headlights of a semi-truck. "Are you, umm... sure that's wise right now?" I stammer, my brain short-circuiting at the thought of what she’s asking. "I mean, with everything that's happened, and you just waking up, and—"
She cuts off my rambling with her lips, kissing me with a passion and intensity that steals the breath from my lungs. Her tongue dances with mine, teasing and exploring, and I can taste the need, desperation, and raw, unbridled desire on her lips.
"I can heal, Lucian—I'm feeling better than ever and seeing things clearly. I see you. Please," she breathes, her words hot and heavy against my mouth, "just shut up and make love to me—show me how it’s done. Teach me, Lucian. I need to feel closer to you, and I want all of you inside me."
Holy fucking mother of all things divine and sacred. She’s begging me, pleading for me to take her, to claim her, to make her mine in every possible way. And I can’t be happier, can’t be more fucking honored and humbled—and terrified—all at once.
I lean back just enough to lock eyes with her, and what I see there would knock me flat on my ass if I wasn't already sitting. There’s love, trust, and a need so intense it could melt vibranium. It’s like staring into the sun—if the sun were made ofpure desire.
Her body is pressed up against me—Little Lucian is standing at full attention, saluting like his life depends on it. It’s taking every ounce of self-control not to dive in like it’s the world’s sexiest swimming pool.
"Are you sure about this, sweetheart?" my voice rougher than sandpaper. "Because this ain’t no test drive, Cupcake. Once we cross this line, no U-turns are allowed. I’m talking full-on, no-takebacks, til-death-do-us-part kinda deal here. You’ll be mine in every way possible, body and soul, for all eternity. We’re talking longer than a Marvel movie marathon, including all the post-credit scenes."
I’m trying to be responsible and offer her an out if she wants it. But every fiber of my being is screaming to shut the fuck up and claim her already.
She smiles, her hand coming up to cup my cheek, her thumb brushing over my lower lip as if she’s trying to memorize every curve and contour. "Lucian, I've never been more certain about anything in my entire existence," her voice soft but filled with a fierce determination that makes my heart skip a beat.
"I want what Dani and Rhyland have, that beautiful, all-consuming love that defies the very laws of nature. And you, my darling demon, make me laugh, smile, and feel things I never even knew were possible." She pauses, her fingers threading through my hair like she’s trying to weave herself into my very being.
"I want to be yours, Lucian, in every sense of the word. I want to belong to you—body, soul, and everything in between. So please, make me yours."
With those magical words, any last shred of doubt or hesitation vanishes like a fart in the wind. I surge forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that’s pure teeth, tongue, and primal, desperate need. My hands roam all over her like an over-caffeinated octopus, mapping out every curve and hollow, committing every glorious inch of her to memory.
I rip open her corset like a kid on Christmas morning, but instead of presents, I’m unwrapping the most delectable pair of breasts I’ve ever laid eyes on. The flimsy fabric doesn’t stand a chance against my raging desire for this angel in my arms. Her breasts bounce free, perky, and perfect, like two scoops of heavenly ice cream begging to be devoured.
She grinds against my hips, her hands tangling in my hair as I flip her onto the bed, her body open and willing for all sorts of deliciously sinful things.
"I want you so damn bad, beautiful," I growl against her skin, my lips blazing a trail down her neck, across her collarbone, and over the swell of her perfect, bouncybreasts. "I’m gonna make love to you like you’ve never been loved. I’m talking full-on worship of every single inch of you until you're screaming my name, seeing stars, and forgetting everything else except my hands on this amazing body."
This isn't what I had envisioned for her first time. I had this unconventional yet undeniably romantic scenario cooked up in my head. A moonlit picnic in a secluded spot, complete with chimichangas, tequila, and a serenade from yours truly. Maybe a little skinny dipping to set the mood, followed by a sensual massage with whipped cream and chocolate sauce. You know, classy shit like that. I wanted her first dip in the Lucian Love Pond to be an unforgettable, wild ride.
My innocent little angel deserves the most mind-blowingly unique and tender introduction to the art of making love, not some hasty, desperate romp on a creaky bed in a fucking pirate ship cabin.
But hey, when life gives you lemons, you say, "fuck the lemons," and bail. Or, in this case, when life puts you on a pirate ship with your girl begging you to pop her cherry, you grab life by the balls and go for it.
Adapt, improvise, overcome.
Sure, it might not be the most conventional setting for deflowering my sweet, innocent angel, but damn if it isn't going to be the most mind-blowing, earth-shattering, soul-bonding experience of my entire existence. The way she's looking at me, the way she feels, the way she's begging me like a prayer... that’s the kind of shit that stays with a man.
Ultimately, all that matters is connecting on the deepest level possible, giving each other everything we have. And that, my friends, is the real fucking romance right there.
She arches into my touch, fingers raking down my back, breath coming in short, sharp gasps like music to my ears. "Yes," she whimpers. "Please, Lucian. I need you. I want to feel… this. Show me everything."
I can’t resist her, not when she's begging so sweetly and looking at me like I’m the last chimichanga in a world full of salads. I latch onto one of her nipples, sucking, nibbling, and teasing it until it’s as hard as my moral dilemmas. She writhes beneath me, her hips bucking in search of friction. With a quick shimmy, I get her out of that skirt, the fabric falling away to reveal miles of smooth, sun-kissed skin just begging to be licked, bitten, and marked as mine.
Then, in a blur of motion that would make the Flash look like a geriatric turtle, I'm out of my clothes, standing in all my naked glory. Little Lucian is ready for action, standing tall and proud, leaking a bead of precum glistening at the tip like a fucking crown jewel.
Seraphina's eyes lock onto my cock like it’s the Holy Grail, her breath catching in her throat, her tongue darting out to wet her lips in a way that makes me want to shove it down her throat and face-fuck her until she’s gasping for air.
Later, Lucian.
"Is that… going tofit?" Her voice is laced with awe and trepidation—like she’s not quite sure whether to be scared or excited by the prospect of taking my massive length inside her.
I can't help but laugh at her adorable innocence, even as my cock twitches and throbs at the thought of sinking into her tight, virgin heat. "Oh, it's gonna fit, Cupcake," I assure her, my voice low and rough with desire. "I’ll go nice and slow—you’ll love every second of it. I’m going to stretch you open and fill you up and make you come so hard you’ll forget what two plus two is."
Seraphina's eyes are dark with desire, her pupils blown wide like she’s high on the world’s most potent aphrodisiac. The taste of her arousal on my tongue? It’s headier than a triple shot of whiskey, sweeter than ambrosia, and more addictive than any drug on the market.
