Caress Part Three (Arcadia Book 3) (2 page)

Lucas’ hands tightened on my shoulders. He was waiting for
an answer.

Mutely, I looked away.

But not so far that I couldn’t see his reaction. His
expression darkened. I shivered as his gazed moved over me, at once icy in
intent and flaming hot.

“That’s how you want to play it?” he asked.

Play it?
I wasn’t playing, not remotely. I was…drowning?
No, that couldn’t be right because I was catching fire, ignited by him, by my
own desires and by something more that I didn’t dare name.

“I’m not--”

I got that much out before his mouth closed on mine, rough,
hard, demanding. His tongue thrust deep, filling me with his taste, claiming
me. For just an instant I hesitated, remembering my hard won independence, the
ring fence of old pain separating me from the world.

Then it crumbled and I opened for him, giving him with my
body what I couldn’t admit to with words.

He groaned and pressed me against the kitchen counter. Until
that instant, I hadn’t realized how cold I’d felt since being visited by the
apparition of my father, or whatever it was that I’d seen. But Lucas warmed me
all the way through.

The change was instant and dramatic. Heat prickled along
every inch of my skin at the same time I felt myself becoming hot and wet deep
inside, readying for him.

My body had become so attuned to his that even a short time
apart had left me aching. I groaned and twined my fingers in his hair, clasping
him as close as I could allowing for the barrier of our clothes still between
us.

That separation must have been as intolerable for him as it
was for me because he broke free suddenly, staring at me with molten eyes, and
rasped, “Unless you want to get fucked on this counter, we need to stop now.”

Stop? Insanity. The building could collapse around my ears
and I wasn’t about to stop. I was vibrating with need, desperate to lose myself
in him.

With him, I could let go of everything else. I craved that
emotional release at least as much as I needed the physical variety.

My breath was coming in shallow pants, precluding speech. All
the better to make do with action.

Holding his eyes with mine, I toed off the flats I’d put on
to make the bagel run, unzipped my jeans and tugged them off. I was left in a
cherry red thong and the oversized sweater I’d opted for so that I wouldn’t
have to bother with a bra.

My breasts were still sensitive from the night before but
now they felt full and heavy, aching with need for him. I wanted his hands on
them, his mouth, the feel of his teeth scraping my nipples...

Watching me, Lucas’ nostrils flared. I shivered at the thought
that he could smell my arousal.

Deliberately, I pulled the sweater down to bare one shoulder
and then the other before I shimmied out of it and kicked it aside.

My nipples tightened further as I felt his gaze on them. His
lips were parted slightly, his chest rising and falling. Glancing down, I saw
that his hands were clenched into fists, as though he was determined not to
touch me. At least not right there, not on my terms.

I’d already defied him once by refusing to tell him what had
happened. Apparently, further defiance wasn’t going to be rewarded.

We’d see about that.

Flattening my palms against his chest, I savored the feel of
rock hard muscle lightly covered by taut, warm skin. Slowly, delighting in
every inch, I stroked lower until I came to the waistband of his pajama
bottoms.

“You’re overdressed,” I murmured.

He grabbed my hands, stopping me from going any further.

“I told you to stop,” he said.

“Actually,” I reminded him, “you gave me a choice.”

Before he could react, I lowered myself far enough to grasp
the edge of the waistband between my teeth. A wicked sense of daring surged
through me as I began dragging it down, over his flat abdomen and the lean
curve of his hips. For good measure, I let the flat of my tongue taste his heated
skin.

“Damn it, Emma!” he groaned. Letting go of my hands, he
cupped my head. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

It occurred to me that just maybe I didn’t. Despite all we’d
shared sexually, I still had the lingering sense that he was holding back in
some way.

On the face of it, that was absurd. He drove me to release
so intense that I wondered at times how I survived it. And I wasn’t alone. The
image of him, thrusting deep within me, his head thrown back, the tendons of
his throat corded, a roar of primal satisfaction breaking from him was enough
all by itself to make me wet.

And yet…I persisted in believing that there was more to
Lucas than he chose to reveal. I’d felt it that first day on the couch, lying
there with my hands tied, waiting to discover what he intended to do.

I wanted to feel it again.

Digging the tips of my fingers into his chiseled ass, I
continued using my teeth and was rewarded when his cock bobbed free.

At the sight of his erection, I licked my lips in
anticipation and not a little astonishment. Every time I saw him like this, I
marveled that I could take him so fully inside myself.

The plump head was swollen and dark, the shaft like velvet
over steel, coursed by bulging veins. I wanted to trace them with my tongue,
follow the seam of his sac, and suck each of his balls into my mouth.

But the bead of his pre-come drew me first. I licked it up
eagerly, loving the salty, musky taste of him. It dissolved on my tongue,
igniting me even further.

Above me, Lucas made a harsh, guttural sound. Spurred on by
it, I closed my lips over his crest and sucked lightly, flicking my tongue over
his sensitive underside.

 
“Emma!”

Swept by the mingled power and pleasure this act never
failed to bring me, I kept on. With one hand, I worked his shaft at the same
time that I sucked harder, drawing him deeper. My other hand drifted between my
legs.

I was just about to slip a finger or two under the damp silk
of my thong when he took hold of my hair, twisting it around his fist until I
felt a little stab of pain.

“Enough,” he rasped, drawing me upright.

I acquiesced but with the greatest reluctance. Staring into
smoldering gray eyes, I pouted and said, “Spoilsport.”

His high-boned cheeks were flushed, his eyes narrowed to
shards of molten steel. As he stared at me, I had the impression that he was
coming to a decision.

“You think so?” he asked. “Let’s see how you feel about
this.”

Before I could respond, he turned me and took hold of both
my wrists, stretching my arms forward.

“Brace your hands against the edge of the counter,” he
ordered.

A tremor of excitement ran through me as I obeyed.

I heard a rustle of cloth as he finished stripping, then he
was pressed against me, chest to back. The feel of his warm, taut skin against
mine sent quicksilver electrical shocks dancing over every inch of my body. I
trembled and tightened my grip on the counter.

His hands settled—big, hard, and firm--on my hips. He
shifted me just enough that my back arched more acutely. The position was a
little uncomfortable but I didn’t care. Arousal ran through me, hot, thick,
irresistible.

I dared a glance over my shoulder and gasped. Satisfied with
my position, Lucas had kept one hand on me but let the other go, using it
instead to fist his gorgeous cock. Captive to his blatant sensuality, I
couldn’t take my gaze from him as he pumped himself up and down with leisurely
strokes.

Heat flamed my cheeks as he chuckled and rubbed his crest
all along the crease of my ass, probing just a little way between my cheeks.

Thickly, he said, “I want you here, too, Emma. When you’re
ready. I want all of you.”

At his words, my nipples hardened almost to the point of
pain. A sudden gush of arousal escaped my panties to dampen my inner thighs. If
I’d been able to think even a little clearly, I might have been embarrassed.
But to my lust-dazed mind, nothing mattered except the pressure radiating
outward from my throbbing clit.

“
Lucas…”
I rubbed against him, moaning, shameless in
my need.

He sucked in his breath and slipped a hand between my legs,
stroking me though the damp silk.

“Do you like this?” he murmured.

“
Mmmm
…”

His teeth grazed down the length of my neck to close in a
small but sharp bite in the tender flesh at the base. I flinched more in
surprise than pain.

“Tell me you like it,” he demanded.

“I do! Don’t stop, please…”

I felt his smile against my skin as he obliged, increasing
the pressure a little just where I needed it the most.

But it wasn’t enough. I needed more.

“Touch me, Lucas, please!”

“I am, sweetheart, but maybe you mean like this—” He slipped
a finger under my panties and lightly stroked along my slit from front to back,
once, twice…

“More,” I gasped.

At once, he paused. “More what?”

What? What did he want me to say? Hesitantly, I asked,
“More, please?”

“That’s better,” he murmured and resumed stroking, a little
more firmly but still not enough to give me any relief.

On the contrary, the pressure continued to build, coiling
through my body. I felt as though I stood on the edge of a precipice, desperate
to soar but held trapped, a prisoner to his touch.

“I’m close,” I murmured, hoping he’d take the hint.

Instead, he murmured, “Are you? Let’s see.”

A long, blunt-tipped finger slipped under my panties and
swirled around my opening before slowly thrusting inward.

I felt his groan against my back. “You’re so wet,
sweetheart. So hot and tight. Perfect.”

The pad of his thumb grazed my clit as he continued to
stroke the inner walls of my vagina. I moaned helplessly.

“I could make you come like this, couldn’t I?”

“You know you can…you have…”

“True, but not this time.”

I gasped as he withdrew his hand, leaving me strung so
tightly that every cell in my body felt about to scream.

“Why--?” I only just managed to gasp.

“Because,” he said as his hand wrapped around the thin edge
of my thong and tugged, “I think you need to learn a lesson.”

“W-what--?” What was he talking about? What did he intend? I
sucked in breath, struggling against the wave of dark, forbidden excitement
that rippled through me.

The silk of my panties tore. I felt the heat of his breath
on the nape of my neck as with agonizing slowness, he drew the fabric from between
my legs before holding it aloft.

As the sodden evidence of my need for him dangled from the
tip of the finger that has just been inside me, he said, “Rather than trust me
enough to tell me what happened, you’re using your body to distract me. That
being the case, I’m going to use it, too.”

Before I could even begin to process that, he draped my torn
panties over the knob of the nearest kitchen cabinet, where they hung like a
wet, musk-scented battle trophy.

As I stared at them, Lucas said, “Spread your legs wider.”

A flare of stubbornness made me hesitate. Until, that is, a
rock-hard thigh thrust between mine. “Wider,” he growled.

The hair on my nape rose. I could feel goosebumps breaking
out all over my body. As a lover, Lucas was magnificent--passionate, skilled,
and above all generous.

But he’d never been angry before and he clearly was now. A
shiver ran through me. How far would he go?

How far would I let him?

Slap!

The palm of my hand landed squarely in the center of Emma’s
right ass cheek. The firm flesh jiggled just a little from the impact.

She yelped in surprise. “Lucas! What are you--?”

Whatever she meant to say turned into a soft moan as I cupped
her pussy, parting her outer folds and pinching her clit. The contrast was
deliberate. I wanted her off-balance, uncertain, trembling on the brink and
dependent on me to get her past it.

I was pushing her hard and I knew it. But damn it, I
couldn’t bring myself to stop. The helpless fury I felt threatened to engulf
me.

It wasn’t bad enough that she’d refused to tell me what had
really happened while she was out. She’d turned my own effort to use sex to
persuade her against me, playing me like the sensual virtuoso she had become.

In barely a week!

What would she be like with a little more practice? As it
was, I went around feeling like I was fourteen again, perpetually randy and
struggling to think about anything other than getting her under me again…or on
top…or however. Most of my brain seemed to be taken up thinking about how she
felt, how she tasted, the sounds she made, the way her wet pussy spasmed around
my cock when she came, milking me--

Hell, Chase Hollis had trounced me at handball the other day
because I literally couldn’t keep my eye on the ball. Who knew what other
humiliations laid in wait.

For the first time in my life, I was in danger of being
pussy whipped. No fucking way was I going to let that happen.

Slap!

The sight of her skin turning pink under my hand almost
undid me. I was bound and determined to be in control, but all she had to do
was wiggle her ass and give one of those throaty little moans to have me on the
verge of coming.

For a moment, I was tempted to do so. The mental image of
that sweet pink ass marked with my come had undeniable appeal. Plus that would
leave her hanging, which might be the best way to get her to think seriously
about telling me the truth. Once she did, I’d be magnanimous and get her off
spectacularly.

Except if I knew Emma, she’d knee me in the gonads and get
herself off before she’d let herself be manipulated like that.

I couldn’t find it in me to want her any other way.

Still, a man has to do what a man has to do.

Slap!

Before she could react, I switched gears again and rubbed
first one cheek, then the other, kneading and stroking her.

“You look so gorgeous, sweetheart,” I crooned. “Your ass is
pink, your pussy is hot and swollen. You’re so wet that your juices are
dripping down the insides of your thighs. Do you have any idea what all that
does to me?”

It turned me into a raging mass of testosterone, my balls so
tight that they felt about to burst and my cock so hard that I could feel it
pulse with every ragged beat of my heart. I could only hope that she didn’t
realize how far gone I really was.

Her legs quivered and I wondered suddenly how much longer
she’d be able to stay upright. That she was still doing so, her hands gripping
the edge of the counter and her breath coming in shallow pants, was all the
permission I needed.

Giving a silent prayer of thanks that she was still with me,
I positioned myself behind her and arched her hips just a little more. With an
arm wrapped around her waist, I took hold of my cock and rubbed the crest along
her swollen slit.

She jerked, not away but closer, squirming against me. “Aaargh…Lucas…please!”

The feel of those hot, slick lips all along my length made
me grind my teeth. I gave her the first inch or so, then forced myself to stop
even as her sweet, greedy cunt clutched at me.

Sweat beaded on my forehead and ran down into my eyes. I
blinked it away and arched over her, my chest against her back.

 “You like that, baby?” I murmured. “You want more?”

“Oh, god, yes! All of you, please!”

Blood roared in my ears but I held on, if only barely. I’d
come this far, I wasn’t about to give up now. Not when the stakes were as high
as they were.

“I meant what I said about you needing to learn a lesson. It’s
all about trust, sweetheart. I trust you, you trust me, it goes both ways.”

I slid a little deeper into her and stopped again. “Do you
trust me?”

She was silent for a moment before she cried out, “Yes! I
do…mostly. I don’t know!”

That last part was almost a wail. Her whole body trembled and
the catch in her voice told me that she was close to coming undone.

She was so damned used to trusting no one but herself. And
for good reason, considering everything she’d been through. However much I
wished otherwise, I couldn’t expect her to set that aside in the space of just
a few days.

But she did have to understand what I needed from her even
if the fact that I did shocked me to the core.

Taking hold of both her hips, I drove into her with a single
hard thrust. As I did so, I grunted, “You can trust me, Emma, I swear.”

I pulled almost all the way out and thrust again, burying
myself in her balls deep. The sensation of her tight, hot pussy gripping me was
so intense that every muscle in my body clenched.

“I’ll never do anything to hurt you,” I grated and knew to
the depths of my being that I meant it.

Again, I stroked deep into her.

 “But don’t shut me out, baby,” My voice sounded like it had
been dragged over sandpaper. I could scarcely breathe. But I couldn’t stop. Reaching
around, I stroked her swollen clit.

“Understand?”

Another wail broke from her. “Yes! I don’t…I won’t…
please!
”

Her pussy spasmed, squeezing along all my shaft and swollen
head. Bolts of raw, hot pleasure shot from my cock straight up my spine to the
base of my brain.

Gripping her hips, I drove into her again and again. Her
luscious breasts bobbed with the force of my thrusts. Sweat slicked us both.

I felt powerful, indomitable, a fucking god! My head reared
back and as it did, I caught sight of her bright red panties hanging from the
kitchen cabinet. They might as well have been a flag waved in front of a bull.

The orgasm that hit me came damn close to blowing the top of
my skull off. At least, that’s what it felt like. Distantly, I heard myself
shout.

“
Emma!”

Ripped from my throat, her name was filled with desperate
need but also with an unmistakable sense of triumph.

If only for that moment, she was,
“Mine!”

Pulse after pulse, I poured myself into her. Her orgasm
extended my own, wave after wave of it milking me until finally I had nothing
more to give. Spent, I sagged against her. My weight carried us both to the
floor. I only just had the presence of mind to turn so that she landed on top
of me.

We lay like that in a heap of tangled limbs, heaving chests,
and sweat-drenched bodies. The scent of sex hung heavy in the air.

To my great relief, not to mention my ego, she did not
immediately bounce up and resuming making bagels.

Instead, she lay against me, her head on my chest, hardly
moving. Long moments passed before I felt the tears slipping down her cheeks to
land just above my heart.