His hands move – slowly, reverently – trailing up the sides of my torso, rough palms skimming over my ribcage, under fabric.I shudder.He cups my breast through the cotton, thumb dragging across my nipple, and I hum – a soft, shameless sound just for him.
‘You’re gonna be the death of me,’ he sighs against my throat.
‘Good,’ I whisper back, breathless.‘I hope it’s slow and painful.’He laughs and kisses my neck.His mouth is hot and wet, a perfect contrast to the goosebumps rising across my chest.His teeth graze the spot below my ear, and I swear I see stars.
Luke pulls one strap of my singlet off my shoulder, then the other.The fabric pools at my waist, exposing me completely.I suck in a breath.His eyes drop, dark and hungry, and then his mouth is on me.
He licks a slow circle around one nipple, then closes his lips around it and sucks, hard enough to make me arch into him.His hand moves to the other breast, pinching, tugging, keeping the sensation balanced somewhere between heaven and total destruction.
‘Wow,’ I gasp, clutching at his shoulders.‘That’s – perfect.’
He hums into my skin, as if he agrees, and the vibration is divine.
I start rocking against him – small, slow rolls of my hips.The pressure between us builds with every pass, every second.My pulse is a drumbeat in my ears.My underwear is soaked.Our clothes are the only thing keeping us from absolute combustion.
He kisses his way back up my neck, reclaims my mouth with his tongue, then stands up without warning – his hands never leaving me, his arms securing me as if I weigh nothing.I gasp as he sets me down on the dining table, the wood cool and smooth against the backs of my thighs.The record player is still spinning in the background, Stevie Nicks murmuring something about fate.Outside, the crickets have started their song.But in here, it’s just us.
He steps between my legs, and I pull him closer.His hands grip my knees and then slide up, coaxing my thighs wider as he leans in, mouth ghosting over mine.
‘You sure?’His voice is gravel.
‘If you stop now, I’ll never forgive you.’
His mouth crashes into mine again, hungrier this time.He reaches for the waistband of my shorts and slides them down, the movement slow and torturous.And then I’m bare in front of him – open and shaking and so fucking ready.
He drops to his knees.
‘Luke …’ My voice breaks on his name.
‘I want to taste you.’
And then he does.
His tongue slides against me with devastating precision.He already knows how I want it.He’s memorised the map of me.He licks me slow at first, lazy, deliberate strokes that have my hands scrambling for purchase on the edge of the table.Then faster, tongue flicking over my clit in rhythm with the fingers that slide into me, curling just right.
‘Luke –fuck—’
He groans against me as if my moans are feeding him, and the sound vibrates through my core.
The orgasm hits hard and fast – a lightning strike.I clench around his fingers, cry out his name, and he doesn’t stop until I’m whimpering, overstimulated and undone.
When he stands, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and looks obscenely proud of himself.
‘Show-off,’ I mumble and pull him towards me, tugging at his shorts.‘Take these off before I lose my mind.’
He does, fast.His cock springs free – thick, flushed, perfect – and
I make a noise that might actually be a prayer.
‘Condom?’he asks.
I shake my head.
He goes to pick me up from the table, but I press both hands to his chest.‘No.’
Luke blinks, clearly surprised.‘No?’
‘I’ve changed my mind,’ I say sweetly as I push him back towards his seat.
