He laid her down gently, eyes roaming her body with open reverence.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, kissing her collarbone, her breasts—tongue circling one nipple, then sucking gently. She arched, fingers threading into his hair.
“Lucas…”
He moved lower—kisses trailing down her stomach, her hips, parting her thighs. “Let me take care of you,” he said, voice husky. “Let me make you feel good.”
She nodded, breathless, legs falling open wider. He settled between them, kissing the inside of her thigh—soft, reverent—before his mouth found her centre. Tongue flat and slow atfirst, then circling her clit with deliberate pressure. She gasped, hips lifting; he pressed a forearm across her pelvis, holding her steady as he licked and sucked, learning every hitch of her breath, every tremble.
“Sweet,” he rasped against her. “So fucking sweet.”
One hand gripped her thigh, holding her open; the other slid two fingers inside, curling to hit that spot. She moaned, loud and unrestrained, rocking against his mouth and fingers.
“More,” she begged. “Please—”
He obliged—sucking her clit hard, fingers thrusting in rhythm, building speed. His free hand reached up, pinching her nipple, rolling it between thumb and finger. The dual sensation overwhelmed her—pleasure coiling tight, low in her belly.
“I’m—Lucas, I’m coming—”
He hummed approval, tongue relentless. The orgasm hit like a wave—crashing, shuddering, her thighs clamping around his head as she cried out, body convulsing. He worked her through it, licking gently until the aftershocks faded, then kissed his way back up—mouth glistening, eyes triumphant.
“You taste like heaven,” he whispered, kissing her deeply. She tasted herself on him—musky, intimate.
She reached for him, hand wrapping around his length—hard, throbbing. “Now you.”
He groaned into her neck. “Condom?”
She nodded quickly, breath still ragged. “Nightstand.”
He leaned over, yanked the drawer open, grabbed one. Before he tore it open, he paused—eyes searching hers, serious despite the heat.
“Mia,” he said, voice low and rough. “I haven’t been with anyone since Monaco. Not even close. Not Sienna, not anyone. I get tested every few months—clean, always. I wouldn’t risk you. Not ever.”
Her heart stuttered—relief and something sharper colliding inher chest. She cupped his face, thumb brushing his jaw.
“I believe you,” she whispered. “I trust you.”
He exhaled, tore the packet, rolled it on with quick, practiced movements. Then he settled back between her thighs, guided himself to her entrance.
“Tell me if it’s too much. We can stop anytime.”
She pulled him closer. “Don’t stop.”
He pushed in—slow, inch by inch—stretching her deliciously. They both moaned at the fullness. He stilled, buried deep, forehead pressed to hers. “You feel… perfect. Like you were made for me.”
She rocked her hips, urging him on. “Move. Please.”
He did—deep, measured thrusts at first, building to a steady rhythm. She wrapped her legs around his waist, heels digging into his back, meeting every thrust.
“Again,” he growled. “I want to feel you clench around me.”
The words ignited her. She raked nails down his back, hips snapping up. “Harder—”
He obliged—thrusts turning punishing, skin slapping, bed creaking. His hands pinned her wrists above her head, the dominance sending her spiralling. Pleasure built fast—too fast—coiling tighter than before.
“I’m there—fuck, Mia—” He groaned, rhythm faltering.
She shattered first—clenching hard around him, vision whiting out as the orgasm ripped through her, louder this time, his name on her lips. Lucas followed—hips stuttering, burying deep as he spilled, groaning her name, body shuddering above her.
