I’m down to my bra now, nipples already tight peaks under the black lace. The sweater lands somewhere in the snow; I don’t care.
Lucky’s eyes rake over me, dark, possessive. “Fucking beautiful.”
He reaches behind me, fingers deft on the clasp. One snap, then another, and the bra loosens. He doesn’t pull it off right away, just drags the straps down my arms slow, letting the cups catch on my nipples before he tugs them free. My breasts spill out into the cold air; goosebumps race across my skin.
Lucky groans, low, wrecked, and palms both breasts, thumbs brushing the hard tips.
“These are mine too,” he mutters, voice gravel. “Every inch of you. Every fucking part.”
Then his mouth is on me.
He bends, takes one nipple between his lips, hot, wet suction that makes me arch, and sucks hard. Tongue flicks, swirls, then his teeth graze just enough to sting. I cry out, fingers twisting in his hair, hips grinding down harder against his cock. He switches to the other breast, same ruthless attention, licking slow circles, then biting down gently, tugging until I’m whimpering.
“God…Lucky…”
“You’re so sensitive tonight,” he rasps against my skin. “All worked up from losing. From the ink. From knowing I’m gonna fuck you senseless once we’re inside.” He sucks harder, pulling the nipple deep, then releases it with a wet pop. “Come just likethis, baby. Come from my mouth on your tits. Let me feel you shake on my lap before I even get you in the house.”
I’m close, dangerously close, just from the heat of his mouth, the cold air on wet skin, the friction of my jeans against his hardness every time I rock. He keeps going, alternating breasts, sucking, licking, biting, one hand sliding down to press over the phoenix through my jeans, thumb rubbing slow circles right over the fresh mark like he’s coaxing it to life.
“Feel that?” he murmurs, teeth grazing my nipple again. “That phoenix rising while I worship these pretty tits. You’re so fucking strong… and so fucking wet for me. Come on, firecracker. Give it to me. Come all over my lap with my mouth on you.”
The command tips me.
I shatter, back arching, cry sharp and broken in the quiet night, thighs clamping around his hips as pleasure crashes through me. My clit pulses against the seam of my jeans, nipples throbbing in time with my heartbeat, the fresh tattoo burning under his palm like it’s coming alive with me.
He holds me through it, mouth still latched to one breast, sucking softly now, soothing, until the aftershocks fade and I’m trembling, boneless against him.
When he finally lifts his head, his lips are swollen, eyes blown black.
“Inside,” he growls, voice wrecked. “Bed. Now. Gonna strip you slow, eat that sweet pussy until you’re begging, then fuck you until we’re both too spent to move.”
He lifts me off the bike, legs still shaking, scoops up my discarded clothes from the snow, and carries me toward the door.
We barely make it through the front door before the cold night air is replaced by heat, his heat, my heat, the frantic collision of mouths and hands. The door slams shut behind us, lock clicking into place, and Lucky’s already got me pinned against the entryway wall, coat half-off, boots still on. His mouth devours mine like he’s starving, tongue deep, teeth grazing my bottom lip until I moan into him.
We strip like it’s a race, jackets yanked off, sweaters tugged over heads, jeans shoved down in rough, impatient pulls. My bra snaps free under his fingers; his shirt rips at the seam when I claw it off him. Clothes hit the floor in a wet heap from the melting snow, and then it’s just skin on skin, his hard body pressing me harder against the wall, the cold plaster a shock against my back while his heat scorches everywhere else.
He lifts me effortlessly, hands under my thighs, spreading me wide, and pins me there, my legs wrapped around his waist, the fresh phoenix on my hip throbbing against his palm where he grips me. Two thick fingers slide inside me without warning, curling deep, thumb finding my clit in the same brutal rhythm he used on my nipples outside.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he growls against my throat, teeth scraping the mark he left earlier. “All this from my mouth on your tits? From the ink I put on you?” His fingers pump faster, harder, the wet sound obscene in the quiet house. “Come for me again, firecracker. Right here. Drench my hand before I carry you to bed and eat this pussy properly.”
I’m already climbing, too fast, too sharp, nails raking down his back, hips grinding down on his fingers like I can’t get enough. He crooks them just right, thumb pressing relentless circles on my clit, and I shatter, back bowing off the wall, cry muffled against his shoulder, walls pulsing hard around his fingers as pleasure rips through me in hot, relentless waves.
He doesn’t stop until I’m trembling, boneless, clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping me upright.
Then he’s moving, lifting me higher, carrying me down the short hall to the bedroom like I weigh nothing. The door bangs open; he drops me onto the mattress, the sheets cool against my overheated skin. He follows me down, shoving my thighs apart with rough hands, and buries his face between my legs without preamble.
His tongue is merciless, flat licks up my slit, sucking my clit hard, then dipping inside me like he’s trying to drink every drop of my orgasm. One hand pins my hip down, right over the phoenix, while the other slides two fingers back inside, curling, stroking, matching the rhythm of his tongue.
“Sweetest fucking pussy,” he mutters against me, voice muffled, vibrating straight through my clit. “Taste like mine. Smell like mine. Gonna make you come again, gonna make you scream my name until the neighbors know exactly who owns this cunt.”
I’m already close again, too sensitive, too wound up from the wall, from the bike, from everything. My fingers twist in his hair, hips lifting off the bed, chasing his mouth. He sucks harder, fingers pumping faster, tongue flicking relentlessly until the coil snaps.
I come with a broken cry, back arching, thighs clamping around his head, pulsing hard around his fingers as wave after wave crashes through me. He licks me through it, slow and greedy, drawing it out until I’m whimpering, oversensitive, trying to push his head away with shaking hands.
He rises finally, lips swollen, chin glistening, eyes dark and satisfied as he crawls up my body.
“Three,” he rasps, kissing me deep so I taste myself on his tongue. “Three times tonight and we’re just getting started.”
