Sordid (5 page)

Yet it grew past the point of tolerable. I inhaled sharply when it became too much, and both his lips and his pinch were gone, making me sway in his absence. Luka’s expression was deadly serious, as if deep in concentration.

“Oh!” I bucked when the pad of his thumb circled above where his fingers were driving. It was fireworks. Bliss sparked and flared, and made me crazy with need. It had to hurt, how I was digging my fingernails into his flesh, but he said nothing. There was no indication in his expression that I was hurting him.

His lips parted to draw in a single breath, and then he slowly blew it out, all while watching me squirm beneath him.

“Shit,” I moaned under my breath.

The corner of his mouth curled up. Luka liked this reaction. His fingers slowed to a stop but stayed inside, lingering. Was he judging me, and more importantly, did I pass whatever test he was putting me through? He withdrew his fingers and they trailed up through my slit. “Did you think about me putting my mouth here?”

I jolted. I had, but I was too nervous to say it.

His face hardened, like he was annoyed I hadn’t answered him. “Open your mouth.”

It was easy to do since my mouth fell open on his command. And then his wet fingers were there, smearing my own taste on my lips. He shoved them inside and I closed my mouth around them, causing Luka’s nostrils to flare. He pulsed the fingers in and out, simulating how he most likely wanted me to use my mouth on him.

The salty, slightly sweet taste of myself wasn’t unpleasant, but the action . . . It was so
dirty
, I shuddered. He leaned in and set his mouth against mine, tasting me in more than one way. When had I surrendered to him so completely? Was it that first moment he’d kissed me, or before, when I’d agreed to another round of blackjack downstairs? Maybe it had been from the very beginning. My crush on him had been intense, but that made sense to me. I didn’t half-ass anything in my life, so why would my infatuation with him be any different?

“Answer me.” It was quiet, but firm from him. “Did you think about me going down on you?”

“Sort of.”

Confusion flooded his expression. This was not an answer he was anticipating. “What does that mean?”

I closed my eyes, not wanting to see judgment in the dark eyes staring back at me, but the spinning was worse. So I set my gaze across the room, away from Luka. “I did, but I don’t know what that feels like.”

His broad shoulders tensed beneath my hands. “You don’t . . . ?” He took a breath. “Holy shit, you’re a virgin?”

He’d taken the small leap, but assumed correctly. I pressed my lips together and nodded quickly.

I’d had the opportunity to lose my V card once, on prom night, of all clichés. My timid boyfriend and I had parked at the marina, hidden behind the boats in dry-dock, and gotten into the back seat. Five minutes into the heavy makeout session, he’d blurted out the least romantic thing I’d expected.

“I’ve got a condom so we should fuck.”

The ensuing conversation was so uncomfortable, it hadn’t just ruined the evening, it had ruined our relationship. There’d been no prospects since that night. I’d gone on a few dates when I got to Randhurst, but there’d been no connection. No spark. Or we’d hit the roadblock of my inexperience and it weirded him out. Time only made me less confident in my ability to find a partner who’d be a good match. Someone intelligent, driven like me, and willing to deal with my social awkwardness.

My anxious gaze drifted back to Luka’s. Was he as disappointed as the other boys had been when they learned I’d never given it up?

No, he wasn’t disappointed.

He gave a wicked smile and looked
thrilled
. He straightened and his gaze slid down the length of my body. It came to rest exactly where his palms moved to, my knees. And then both began to work their way up my thighs.

“How?” he asked. “Why?”

“Why
?” How was I going to explain? It didn’t matter, the tequila made me mouthy and I spoke without thought. “The guy I was with . . . didn’t deserve it.”

Luka’s pleased expression was even better than his displeased one. “Fuck, perfect,” he said. “Let me show you what it feels like.”

I snagged my bottom lip between my teeth as anxiety fluttered in my belly. His fingers were up my skirt, tugging at the waistband of my panties, urging them down.

“Wait, wait.” My hands flew out to stop his, but it didn’t work. He tugged one side down and then the other, working the panties toward my knees.

“Don’t worry, good girl,” he teased. “You can keep these on.”

I trembled as the black cotton panties were bunched at my knees, and the tremble was more pronounced when Luka guided me to lift one leg free of the fabric. The panties dropped down my calf and hung at my ankle, where he gave them a tug.

“See? Still on.” His expression was sinful.

I was aware I was in over my head, even as I reached the final stage of drunkenness—inability to organize thoughts. His warm palms pressed open my knees and he bent at the waist, lowering his face between my legs.

A trembling hand—my own—clamped over my lips to keep me quiet as he pushed my skirt out of his way. There was nowhere else to look but at the man licking his lips while he stared at my nakedness. It was indecent, and holy hell, he made me feel good. Desired like nothing else. He closed the last of the distance and claimed me with his mouth.

My moan was loud, but quieted against my palm, when something warm and soft stroked me. I jolted. He did it again, and again, and each one wrung a new moan from my shaking body. It felt amazing. Better than amazing. I didn’t want him to ever stop.

I was gulping down air through my nose, and slapped my other palm on top of my mouth for further protection from getting too loud. My knees tried to close, but his hands were on the tops of my thighs, forcing them apart. Holding me open for him as he feasted.

The swirling tongue did nothing to help my spinning issue, nor did his lips closing and sucking on the tight bud at the center of my pleasure. I bucked and groaned into my hands, my back arching from the couch, only for me to slump back down against it.

It was abruptly cold as he sat back, taking the heat of his mouth with him. He stared at me with lust-heavy eyes, and his hand ran between my legs. “You’re so fucking wet.” The hand slid through my folds and smeared the wetness all along the inside of my thighs. “Christ, feel how bad this virgin pussy wants me.”

It was shocking, and although part of me was unhappy with the vulgarity, another part was terribly turned on. I’d thought Luka and I were the same, but in this room? We were polar opposites. All of my inexperience and shyness was a void he filled with his ultra-confidence, trapping me in his power.

He leaned back down and his warm breath spilled over me. That devious tongue slicked over my clit, fluttering with urgency, and heat built inside me at an exponential rate. Each stroke made me groan with choked pleasure. I peered into his eyes that were focused back on me intently, and my cheeks flushed red-hot. How could I watch him while he was doing something so intimate? Yet I couldn’t stop myself. My hands moved of their own accord, my nails gouging into his shoulders.

I closed in on the mounting release. It was . . . intense. It felt like an electrical surge as his relentless tongue cast me over the edge into a searing fire. When the shudders descended on my body, I let the waves carry me away. I should have cared about how he viewed me, but I didn’t. The only thing I could think about was the pleasure coursing along my spine, pulling me into bliss.

Overwhelming sensations flooded along my nerve endings. Heat. Ecstasy. Desire. When my orgasm released me, my hands fell away from this shoulders and I went slack and boneless against the leather cushions.

For a moment, there was only the sound of my rapid breathing and the thumping bass from downstairs, and then Luka rose up, wiping his mouth. His lips bowed into the faintest smile, making him look seductive and dangerous. He undid the utility belt around his hips and the gun thudded to the floor. It sounded too heavy to be plastic.

“Unbutton your shirt.”

He never
asked
me to do anything. It was always a command. Yet in the aftermath of the orgasm, I was euphoric, so I teased him. “You think you can tell me what to do?”

His serious expression didn’t change. “Yes.”

When he didn’t move or say anything else, I sobered. He was waiting impatiently on me to follow his order, but I’d already done more and gone further with him than I’d meant to. It was insane how quickly I’d allowed him to get under my skirt. I barely knew him, and I wasn’t a one-night fling kind of girl.

“I’m, uh . . . not sure—” I mumbled, letting my gaze fall downward.

Strong hands seized mine and tugged me up until I was sitting on the edge of the couch. Luka set our hands together on his collarbones, his palms pressing against the backs of my hands. “Undo one.”

I blinked away my confusion. He wanted me to undo one of his buttons? The chest beneath my fingers was hard and lean, and I wanted to see what was below the navy uniform. I’d only fantasized about it for two years, and he was telling me to take a peek . . . My fingers were clumsy as I undid the first button below the collar of his dress shirt.

Luka’s fingers weren’t clumsy. They were nimble as he unfastened my blouse button, which sat an inch above my cleavage. He could hold his liquor much better than I could. He seemed barely drunk, whereas I was getting worse. My brain moved sluggishly along, struggling to keep up.

“Now another.” His voice was low, but firm.

My mouth went dry, but I could do this. It wasn’t quite as real when he was the one undoing my shirt, versus myself. I popped open his next button, revealing tan, smooth skin below. I tensed as he tugged at my shirt, freeing another button so my black bra was exposed. His gaze drifted down, taking in my average-sized breasts encased in black satin.

“All of them,” he said. This time his voice was tinged with something that sounded a lot like excitement.

I swallowed thickly as I undid the rest of the line of buttons, and sat back. He rewarded me by pulling the shirttails free from his waistband and left the unbuttoned shirt to hang open. Holy hell, there was faint definition of his abdominals. My gaze roved over his chest and I tried not to let it show how badly I wanted to touch him.

Things grew hazy when he hurried to undo and throw open my shirt. His mouth was on my neck, carving a path down my collarbone. I shivered when his whiskers scraped along my skin. Fingers were inside my bra, tugging the cups down, and then his mouth locked on a nipple. It snapped into a hardened point as his tongue swiped over it, and the dull ache between my legs grew hot and sharp.

I gasped as he nipped with teeth, hard enough it hurt, but instantly his kiss soothed the burn away. How did he do that? I shut my eyes and let him suck at me while I hung on, my fingers laced through his thick hair. To hell with the spinning, I thought.

A noise of surprise broke free from my throat when he abruptly grabbed my shoulders and flung me down on my back on the couch cushions. Everything moved so fast, and I didn’t enjoy the sensation of being out of control. It was unfamiliar and scary. I had to concentrate and force myself to stay active, because the tequila made me slow and indifferent.
You cannot let this go any further.

Luka’s hands and mouth were still focused on my breasts as he settled on his knees between my legs. When I tried to scoot back and sit up, he lifted his head and shot me a surprised look. Did I appear as nervous as I felt?

He blinked slowly, and then returned to his task, running his lips over one of my peaked nipples. “We’ve still got all our clothes on.” His words were soft and almost playful. “How much trouble can we really get in?”

The leather couch squealed as he shifted, sliding down along the length of my body. My stomach trembled beneath his scattered kisses. Was he going to . . .

Yes
. The skirt was shoved up and his mouth was fire. This time I dug my fingers into my own skin, clutching at the tops of my thighs as he went down on me. The sight of Luka kneeling between my legs and licking me was unbelievable. Muscles low in my belly clenched, tensing to the point of pain.

That was exactly what he did to me. Made me want him so badly it hurt.

“I like that I’m the only one,” he whispered, “who knows what you taste like.”

I dragged air in and out of my body, watching him nuzzle my most sensitive part. He wasn’t gentle. He attacked me like we were under an approaching deadline, rushing me along. Maybe we were. Perhaps the alcohol would wear off soon and I’d come to my senses about how irresponsible I was being.