“Take off your clothes, wonder woman.” I nip her lip again, then step back and slowly start unbuttoning my shirt, staring at her. She’s frozen, her lips slightly parted again as she greedily watches me. I stop halfway and tilt my head to the side. “I know you heard me,” I say in a low voice.
“Oh fuck, that shouldn’t be so hot,” she breathes, her hands trembling as they go to the hem of her shirt and lift it over her head.
I chuckle and quickly finish opening my shirt. But when I go to push it off, Isla pops up on her knees and places her hands on mine.
“Let me?”
I nod and let her take over, and she slowly pushes my shirt off my shoulders and down my arms, her gaze trailing over the naked planes of my chest.
“Damn, guys have changed since I was a teenager.”
My shirt falls to the floor, and I cup her cheek in my hand. “It’s been a while for me, too. But you’re in charge here. Completely, okay? Whatever you need or want, you tell me. Can you do that for me?”
She nods.
“Good girl.”
I lean in and kiss her, letting my hands roam over her soft skin for a moment. God, she’s all warm, soft curves, and she’s here withme.
Her hands find my belt, and I smile into our kiss as she fumbles to get it open. We don’t break our kiss, but I reach for the waist of her pants and quickly undo them. This time, it’s Isla who pulls back, panting.
“Oh my God, I need you naked, like,now.”
“The feeling is mutual,” I grunt as I push down my pants. A part of me tenses, waiting for her reaction to seeing my prosthetic leg. But Isla doesn’t even glance at it. Instead, she shimmies out of her pants and throws them to the floor before throwing her arms around my neck again. We kiss, messy and lust-fueled and desperate now. Like trying to stay away from each other has created a powder keg of need that’s finally been ignited.
“Do I need to be aware of anything? Do you want to take your leg off or leave it on? I don’t care either way, but I want you to be comfortable.” Her little ramble is adorable and has me grinning at the combination of thoughtfulness and excitement in her voice.
“I’ll take it off, if that’s okay with you. But the only thing I want you to be thinking of is my plan to make you come as many times as I fucking can.”
Her small moan brings me no shortage of satisfactionas I move to the side of the bed and sit down before quickly removing my prosthetic, keeping the liner on underneath for now.
I’ve definitely found that with my missing limb, certain positions are easier and more enjoyable than others. Lucky for her, the easiest is also the best for her. And it lets me do something I’ve wanted to do for a long fucking time.
Once my prosthesis is off, I swing my legs up and get settled. Isla’s looking at me through hooded eyes.
“C’mere. It’ll be easiest if I’m on my back,” I say gruffly.
She moves onto her hands and knees and crawls to me, her hips swaying in a hypnotic way. She doesn’t even pause to look at my residual limb, and for that, I’m grateful. She comes to a stop next to me and places one hand on my stomach, just above the waistband of my underwear.
“Closer.”
Her eyebrows raise and she doesn’t move right away. Instead, her lips quirk up in a smirk. “Are you bossy in bed, Luca?”
In response, I surge upward and grab her hips, lifting her up to straddle me. With a startled cry, her hands find the headboard as I settle her high on my chest. My hands move around to grasp her ass, the flesh filling my palms perfectly.
“If I need to be. Now, I said closer.” I push her lace-covered hips forward. “Let me taste you.”
20
ISLA
All I can do isstare down between my legs at the rugged face of the man carefully pulling my panties to the side. Then his tongue swipes along my slit, warm and rough and oh, so fucking good.
“Luca,” I moan, my head falling forward. “Holy shit.” He does it again and again before picking up a rhythm that has me rocking my hips back and forth, feeling my orgasm build inside of me far faster than it ever has before.
No vibrator can compare to Luca Calloway’s tongue. My brain goes fuzzy with the pleasure coursing through my body. I have one hand braced against the headboard and the other finds its way to Luca, gripping the strands of his hair tightly. He growls against my pussy andohmygodI want to explode.
My hips start to rock against his mouth, chasing the orgasm that promises to be exquisite. “Please,” I start to whimper, but I have no clue what I’m asking for. More? Less? Relief? God, I’m lost. “Luca, please, oh God.”
