Page 66 of Worth the Fight

Once I’m spent, body limp, he finally pulls away. My eyes flutter shut, and I roll to my side, panting into my pillow.

Lukas crawls up my body, kissing my hip, my waist, my neck as he goes, and then he gently rolls me to the side, using his knees to spread my legs apart.

He lays his weight on me, nuzzling against my neck, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders.

“Can I fuck you?” he whispers against my skin.

“I might die if you don’t.” My trembling hands slide up his neck to cup his face, and I gently pull his head from my shoulder. He looks as spent as I feel, and a little sad, almost. “You okay?”

A ghost of a smile crosses his lips. “The happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life, Mags.”

He presses a soft kiss to my lips, and I hold it, reaching down between us to grip his cock. I inch him toward my center, but he halts.

“Do we need a condom?”

“Do we?” We both know I’ve only been with him, and I’m still on birth control. He said he wore a condom with Candi, even though it didn’t hold. And I know, with every fiber in my being, there will be no one else for me.

“I got tested after Candi, just in case. Otherwise, it’s only been you.”

I already knew that but hearing it still relaxes me a little. I stroke his cock, and this time when I guide him forward, he lets me.

He inches the head inside, and even though he just had his fingers in me, the stretch is tight, but wonderful, and my eyes flutter shut on instinct.

“Look at me, pretty girl,” Lukas whispers against my skin, and when I open my eyes, he’s so close, staring down at me. “Don’t look away, please.”

“I won’t.” It’s not like we don’t know who we’re with right now, but I wonder if he’s dreamt about this like I have. I wonder if his memories of what sex is like between us are as haunting to him as they are to me, and he needs to see me, to watch, to know that it’s real, and it’s us.

I press my hand to his cheek, refusing to look away, refusing to even blink as he pushes his entire length into me. My chest heaves, head begging to arch back, but I push forward, my forehead resting on his. “Lukas,” I breathe, my body working to adjust to his size.

Once he’s fully seated in me, some of the strain seems to leave his body. His own eyes fall shut, and he buries his head in my neck, pressing his lips to my skin as he slowly pulls back. He’s almost out of me, leaving just the tip in, and then he surges forward, pulling a gasp from my throat.

He works at that pace—long, lazy thrusts, thrusts that have my body coiling tight, and goosebumps breaking out against my skin even though I’m sweating. His mouth finds mine, and he kisses me, swiping his tongue against my bottom lip, and I open for him.

My hands cling to his shoulders, and I dig my nails in, knowing he’ll likely wear my scars for days.

But something about that seems to spur him on, and his thrusts pick up speed. His hips are snapping so hard the headboard starts to rap against the wall.

“Lukas,” I moan, my hands sliding up his neck to grip his jaw, my mouth finding his with my eyes closed.

Our kisses are deep, filthy, the tender nervousness that plagued us earlier is nowhere to be found.

“Fuck, Mags, baby,” he grunts as a bead of sweat rolls down his face. It trickles down his chin, dropping onto my chest, and something about that drives me crazy.

“Bend me over,” I gasp, and it takes him a minute to digest what I’m asking. “Please, Lukas.”

He pulls back, his face flushed, crescent shaped scars covering his body from my hands and teeth. His chest heaves with each breath, and he rises to his knees, a hand coming to slap my hip. “Turn around, Mags, face down, ass up.”

I do as he asks, rolling over and rising to my elbows at the same time he grips my hips, pulling my ass up to the height he wants me at. I feel him adjust his stance one more, spreading his knees, getting a grip on the bed, then he’s pushing into me again, and with the angle and how swollen I am, I have to drop my head, burying my face into the pillow.

I’m a panting, gasping mess, but Lukas doesn’t let up. He thrusts hard, punishing thrusts, pouring all the emotions we’ve both held back into this moment. He grips my hip with one hand, then his other comes up, delivering a firm slap to my backside, and I cry out.

“Again,” I beg, knowing that one more spank from him will be all I need to push me over that edge. Lukas does as I ask, like he always does, and the moment my skin feels the sting of his hand, my orgasm hits.

Lukas isn’t far behind me. His firm grip is the only thing holding my body up for him as he pumps into me, and then I feel him pause, his cock twitching deep inside as he comes.

We drop to the bed, me, face down with my arms trapped beneath me, and Lukas lies at my side, as his arm comes around my back to usher me over so I can face him.

He presses his forehead against mine, his arm pulling me close as we work to even out our breathing.