Skin Deep (24 page)

Luke growled and I got the reaction I wanted.
He smacked my ass again, spanking me on each cheek until the
burning reached a fever pitch and I was moaning uncontrollably. I
could feel myself slipping under, lost in the spell of
pleasure/pain that, until now, had been forbidden to me. Luke
stopped the stinging slaps and gently rubbed the reddened skin for
a minute, then ran his fingers lightly over the parted flesh
between my thighs, dipping in to play in the wetness there, before
his hands spread me wide and I felt his tongue spear into me,
fucking in and out of my heat with deft strokes, slicking against
every inch of me and firing all my nerve endings until I was
screaming with the need to shatter on his tongue.

The beginnings of my orgasm started pulsating
deep inside me and when Luke felt me clench on his tongue, he
pulled away immediately, leaving me gasping and shrieking in
disbelief as I felt those glorious waves subside with nothing
feeding them any longer. My body felt empty and ached with fever
pitch for the release that he denied me so cruelly. I whimpered in
the back of my throat before I gave in and started begging.

“Luke, please, baby, please, please,
please…oh, God!” I moaned, wiggling my hips and trying to bring my
thighs together, anything to alleviate the aching, throbbing flesh
there.

I pressed my hands into the mattress beneath
me and started pushing myself up, intending to do what, I wasn’t
sure, but the feel of Luke’s hands roughly pushing me back down
made me gasp before a small sob escaped between my parted lips,
borne purely out of frustration and need.

Immediately, Luke was up and over me,
breathing into my ear as he whispered, “I’m so sorry, baby, are you
okay? We’ll stop, I promise…”

“Luke! No, please don’t stop! I just need
you, please, fuck me, put your tongue back on me, something!
Anything! Just make me come!” I moaned, arching myself up into the
hardness of him over me. The thick length of him pressing against
the denim of his jeans rubbed against my bare ass and I arched even
more, trying to bring him in line with my aching mons, and he
chuckled in my ear.

“Well, if you don’t want me to stop, then
you’re in trouble. I told you not to move, sugar. You need to
come?” he whispered in my ear.

“Yes!” I shouted (Seriously, I needed to get
off!)

Luke pulled away from me, still laughing at
me (which was starting to piss me off…I was a woman on the edge and
if he didn’t do something soon then I was about to have a date with
the shower head. Or the bedpost. Or whatever I could get my hands
on, including my hands!)

Smack! Luke’s palm began heating my ass again
and I squirmed, thrusting my ass into each stinging slap, not
realizing that I was begging him under my breath not to stop. I
screamed when his hand moved and slapped the tender flesh between
my thighs, the sharpness tingling over my clit and sending me over
the edge without warning. Luke’s fingers circled briskly over my
clit as I came and came, prolonging the wrenching spasms

shivering through my body.

When I finally calmed, Luke slid his hands
around my waist and lifted me up off the bed before turning me in
his arms and laying me down on the bed. I let him move me around
where he wanted me, still unable to move and blinded by the black
satin still covering my eyes. He moved my arms above my head and
held them there, locked together in one of his hands. I heard
something clink before a cool metal bracelet snapped into place on
my right wrist and then another snapped onto my left wrist without
pause.

“Luke?” I said tentatively, completely turned
on but a little anxious at being locked down on the bed. I moved my
hands experimentally and found that the cuffs weren’t too tight and
I could reach up and wrap my hands around the slats comprising the
headboard of Luke’s bed.

He moved up between my thighs, spreading my
legs high and wide and holding them there with his knees, leaving
my smooth, wet, secret folds bare to his gaze. I moaned low in my
throat at the feeling of helplessness that washed over me; I was
spread open for him to do whatever he wanted to me and there was
nothing I could do about it. It was thrilling and scary at the same
time and it was driving me wild.

I felt him lean to the side for a moment,
fumbling with something on the nightstand before he was over me
again, still holding me open and helpless. He dipped his fingers
into my heat again, plying the wetness there over my clit, sliding
up and down over it before pushing them slowly deep inside me. I
moaned, clenching my inner muscles around his invading fingers, and
he pulled them out quickly.

I gasped as something blazed a trail of
liquid fire down my stomach, stopping just short of my cleft.
Whatever it was, it was hot, really hot, but not so hot that it was
burning me. It almost felt like if you were to accidentally spill
candle wax on your…holy shit! Was that what it was? Ohmigod…

Luke’s lips followed the trail, licking and
nipping my skin along my ribcage and down my stomach. I felt the
heat splash onto my inner thighs, making me jump and thrust my hips
up at the same time. My breath whooshed out of me when I felt Luke
move again, and this time something ice cold, dripping wet, and
hard slid down my skin, following the trail of wax down my body,
but it didn’t stop there. The iciness slipped down over my clit,
spreading my folds even more before dipping slightly inside me
where it rested for a second, melting and pooling in the heat of my
body.

I moaned, lost in the sensations of hot and
cold, and Luke reached up and pulled the blindfold off my eyes. I
immediately stared down the length of my body, entranced by the wax
drippings on my skin and the slightly wet tracks left on my skin
from the ice, but mostly by the sight of Luke’s hard length,
jutting up from the juncture of his thighs, long and thick, the tip
weeping with the evidence of his desire.

As I watched, Luke pressed my thighs back
further, opening me up even more before dipping the tip of himself
into my hot, wet tightness, thrusting forward smoothly until he was
seated as deep inside as he could get. I closed my eyes but opened
them again at Luke’s harsh directive.

“Watch me, Emma, watch me inside you. Don’t
close your eyes, baby,” Luke groaned, beginning a smooth, sliding
rhythm in and out of me.

I watched, helpless to do otherwise,
entranced by the sight of his thick, ruddy hardness cleaving into
my soft, wet heat over and over again. Luke’s hips began to thrust
faster, his skin slapping loudly against mine in the silence broken
only by our quickened breaths and soft moans.

I gripped the slats of the headboard above my
head, wishing I was free to touch him, pulling against them as my
body strained and rushed toward that shattering moment of release,
my hips thrusting up to meet his downward strokes, again and again
before we both broke, Luke moaning loudly and me screaming out my
release as my body convulsed around his, feeling him pulsing and
throbbing deep inside as he filled me.

Luke released my hands from the cuffs and we
cleaned up before we wrapped our arms around one another and fell
into an exhausted but satisfied slumber.

Chapter 16

Thanksgiving dawned bright and early and I
woke with a smile on my face, the memories of last night washing
over me and making me ache with want again. Luke was still sleeping
beside me, and I carefully threw my leg over him after moving the
sheet back, sliding my growing wetness against his slumbering
length, loving the feel of it as it started thickening against
me.

Before it fully engorged, I guided it into my
heat, moaning softly at the feel of it stretching me as it
hardened. Luke twitched under me, his hands coming up to grasp my
hips as he blinked his sleepy but gorgeous eyes at me.

“Mmmm, sugar…what a way to wake up.” He
smiled but it faltered as I squeezed him with my inner muscles and
began sliding up and down on him, riding his hardness. We moved
together, making love slowly and thoroughly before collapsing
beside each other, tenderly kissing and touching softly as our
bodies cooled.

We laid there catching our breath before
rising to get ready for the day. I was a little nervous about
taking Luke and Brandon to my parents’ house for Thanksgiving,
though I knew I shouldn’t be. I mean, they’ve been coming to Sunday
breakfast for a while now, and if that hadn’t made them run for the
hills then I should be in the clear, right? I was already giving
thanks that Jackson wouldn’t be subjected to the craziness, but I
knew my family, and holidays around the Jensen house are anything
but normal.

Take last year, for example. My father, God
love him, decided that he was going to deep fry the turkey, so he
went out and bought one of those fancy turkey fryer thingies. The
turkey came out black (I mean BLACK!) on the outside, but was
actually the most delicious turkey we’d had. Doesn’t sound bad, I
know, but then, since he had gallons of peanut oil left over, he
started frying everything he could get his hands on. We’re talking
scoops of stuffing that he dumped into the oil, scoops of macaroni
and cheese, cheese sticks that he had found in the back of the
freezer, pieces of sliced turkey that he breaded with Andy’s Hot
and Spicy chicken breading (that was actually good, by the way) and
whatever else he could get his hands on. Mom drew the line at the
green bean casserole and cranberry jelly, much to Dad’s dismay.

The only good thing that came out of that
Thanksgiving was that we now have fry nights where we all chip in
and bring over different foods and Mom (Dad gave up) fries
everything up and we all stuff ourselves sick. But, back to the not
normal part of Thanksgiving last year. Since everyone tried pretty
much everything Dad fried (like we had a choice), the evening
turned into Night of the Living Flatulence and Bathroom Runs; and
Mom and Dad only have one bathroom. People did things that night in
the woods at the back of the yard that we don’t speak of. Ever.

After we got showered and dressed, Luke and I
headed downstairs to make sure Brandon was up and ready. I had no
idea where he had disappeared to last night, and frankly, I was
glad he had been gone. The things that Luke had made me scream…

Brandon was coming out of his bedroom, fully
dressed, bright-eyed, and bushy tailed. Okay, the last one was
Doug, who was following Brandon, wagging his whole back end like
mad while trying to walk. It made him look like an unsteady,
malformed duck. I laughed when he waddled his way over to me and
sat on his haunches at my feet, tongue lolling out of his mouth as
he cocked his head at me.

I shook my head at him and grinned at Luke,
who was laughing at Doug. “He wants to come for Thanksgiving
dinner, too,” he said.

I shrugged. “Okay. He can come. Mom and Dad
won’t mind, especially because they love labs, and the kids will
adore him.” I looked back at Doug again. “You wanna go bye-bye,
Doug?” I cooed.

He jumped up and started prancing around me
in wide circles, stopping by the front door with every rotation.
Luke handed me his leash to put in my purse and we all headed out
to the car. I grabbed the Bourbon Banana Nut Bread that I had made
in the slow cooker (yummy) from where I had hidden it in the canned
vegetable cabinet. This was the second one that I had made because
the guys hadn’t taken me seriously when I told them not to eat it
because it was for Thanksgiving. It was gone in less than an
hour.

We pulled up at my parents’ house and
traipsed into the madness, Doug barking like mad at the kids
running crazy through the living room, chasing each other with Nerf
dart guns. My brother came around the corner with my sister, Leah,
under his arm in a headlock. She had her arms wrapped around his
waist, holding on for dear life and was screaming at him to stop.
Apparently whatever she had done was bad enough that Noah had her
jean clad legs tucked up under each of his arms, helping my brother
carry her through the house.

Luke and Brandon looked at each other for a
second before grinning and taking off to see where Calland and Noah
were taking Leah. I walked into the kitchen behind them, covering
my ears when Leah shrieked as Calland dunked her head into the sink
full of dishwater. Noah dropped her legs and Calland stood her up.
She looked like a drowned rat with rabies or something. Bubbles
dripped down her face and her hair was plastered to her head.
Mascara was running down her cheeks in little black rivulets.

My mom and Jenna were standing side by side
at the stove, each stirring something briskly. Without a beat, Mom
looked over her shoulder and said, “Told you, you shouldn’t have
done that. And you shouldn’t have worn makeup today, raccoon eyes.
Go clean up, its almost time to eat.”

Leah stomped her foot and stormed out,
screaming, “FUCKING PENIS RULE!” as she left the room.

I glanced at my brother-in-law, figuring I
would get the straightest answer out of him. “So what’d she do,
Noah?”

Not a man of many words, he simply replied,
“Whipped cream and water balloons.”

I nodded at him as if I knew what the hell he
was talking about. Because, sadly, I did. When we were younger,
Jenna had come up with the idea of filling water balloons with
those aerosol cans of whipped cream to get back at Calland for
something he and his friends had done. It was messy but so worth
it, and really was done in defense. Poor Jenna was in the bath when
Calland had taken her favorite bra, wetted it down in the kitchen
sink, and then froze it. By the time Jenna got out of the tub and
primped herself up, the bra was frozen stiff. We never did
understand why she hadn’t just grabbed another bra or thrown that
one in the dryer. Instead, she stood in the bathroom screaming at
Calland while she used the blow dryer to thaw it out.