by Lila Dubois
With his cock pressed between his belly and the edge of the bed, Luke eased his fingertips between the lips of her sex and spread them. Her body opened to him, revealing the dark pink interior. She was slick with arousal and his seed. He could smell them both, and the primal possession of smelling his ejaculation seeping out of a woman—his woman—escalated Luke’s arousal.
He tasted her, one long lick from the dripping entrance to her body to her hooded clit. He paused there, as she shivered in pleasure, a shudder racking him. The mingled flavor was like nothing he’d ever tasted, dangerously powerful in the affect it had on him.
With her clit and its protective hood captured in the clamp of his teeth, Luke licked her. Lena nearly came up off the bed and he braced one hand on her thigh to keep it still.
“Luke. Luke, LukeLukeLukeLuke.”
His name was a litany, a prayer, as he mashed her flesh against the back of his teeth with his tongue. Soon she could not even form words, falling to inarticulate sobs as he forced her to orgasm through the use of his mouth on her clit.
He felt her orgasm—in the quaking of her belly and trembling in her legs, in the way the flesh in his mouth spasmed. He considered trying for another, but his cock would no longer be denied. He released her with a last lick and surged up. He knelt between her thighs, careful of her injured leg, and then lowered himself to her. Lena’s chest was heaving, the T-shirt glued to her skin by sweat.
“Luke, Luke, now, please.”
“Lena,” he reached down and fingered her before taking his cock and guiding it in. The awkward position meant he was touching places inside her he never had before, and they both panted as he sank in. The head of his cock pushed against her inner walls, joining them.
When he was as far in as he could go, Luke bent his head to her chest and once more nipped her nipple through the fabric. She smelled like warm cotton, sweat, sex and woman.
Lena’s hands perched on his shoulders where her nails dug in like small talons as he started to move. His thrusts were slow, his shoulder pushing her leg toward her chest, her knee over his shoulder. Once he knew the limits of this position, how far out he could pull before slipping from her body, how hard he could thrust without jarring her too badly, Luke started to move in earnest.
Lungs filled with her scent, her hands roaming his back, sex clenched around him, Luke gave himself over to the hunger that moved through him. He fucked her, hard tight thrusts opening her, the residual flutters of her body squeezing him each time he entered.
He wanted to protect her and hurt her, touch her softly in the moonlight and roughly fuck her against the wall in sunlight. The seemingly incongruous emotions and needs welled up. He loved her, wanted her, needed her.
Again and again he thrust, clenching his teeth so that no words escaped as he came. He feared what he might say in that unguarded moment. Luke slammed his hips into hers for the last time, eliciting sexy little whimpers from her. Buried inside her, his cock emptied in short hard spurts. Lena’s body twitched around him as she came a third time.
As their panting breaths slowed, Luke heard a faint voice saying, “Dough Boys. Anybody home?” followed by a knock.
Lena started to laugh, which had a very interesting effect on his softening cock which was still inside her. “The food’s here,” she gasped between giggles. Pulling out of her, Luke helped her sit up on the side of the bed, then snatched up his shorts, attempting to put them on while running for the door, yelling “Don’t leave!”
Ten minutes later they were both sitting on the floor with their backs to the couch, legs stretched out under the coffee table. Plastic to-go boxes stuffed with food covered the table.
“We may have ordered too much,” Lena admitted ruefully, removing the lid of the caramel syrup.
Luke scanned the table. He could have eaten everything there by himself. “Is this more food than a human should eat?”
“Each of these is probably three thousand calories and you should only have two thousand in a whole day.”
“Oh,” Luke looked down at his plate. His SOS appeared to be grey mush, but it tasted great. Potatoes and meat of all sorts chopped up and combined with a thick sauce. This was the kind of food he was used to.
Lena’s hand smoothed over his left shoulder, over his tattoo. “You’ve been starving, haven’t you?”
“It hasn’t been pleasant.”
“My poor Luke,” she kissed his shoulder and then turned to her food, pouring a steady stream of caramel over pancakes stuffed with bananas and nuts. Luke forked up some of his own breakfast and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. What did she mean when she used the possessive? Was she laying a claim on him?
They ate in companionable silence, Lena occasionally moaning in pleasure and offering Luke bites. He tried to do the same to her, holding a heaping spoonful of potatoes and meat covered in the sauce, which she’d called gravy, out to her, but Lena looked at him as if he’d offered to re-insert the poisoned barbs. Her food was good, though too sweet for him.
With half of her pancakes left, Lena pushed the box away, tilting to the side to rest her head against his shoulder. Luke lifted his arm and laid it along the cushions of the couch, encircling her shoulders. He’d seen the move in countless movies. Lena snuggled closer to his side.
She felt small. Her personality was so big, her physical movements so confident, that Luke was constantly surprised to find she was tinier than he. He finished chewing and then kissed her hair. They still smelled like sex, now overlaid with food and Luke doubted there was a better smell in the world.
He looked longingly at the remainder of his meal, but set his fork down. Lena giggled. “Luke, it’s okay, keep eating. My belly is happy and I need a little post-food nap. That doesn’t mean you have to stop eating.”
He dipped his head to plant a hard kiss on her mouth, which startled a laugh from her, before lifting his fork and digging in.
“Luke, there’s something I want to tell you.”
Mouth full he squeezed her to indicate he was listening.
“I trust you. I know you think I don’t, but I do.”
Luke set his fork down and swallowed. “It is natural to mistrust me and my kind after what happened.”
“I’m certainly going to be more cautious if I ever see another monster, but I do trust you.”
“When you were sick you could not even stand to look at me. You thought I had done this.”
“When I was sick? Luke, that’s not fair, I don’t even remember that, I had a fever.”
“That’s what Jane said.”
“You trust everything else she says, why not this?”
“Because you thought I had done this.”
“You know why, Luke? Because all I saw were some wings and arms and legs. The only other being in the whole world I’ve ever seen that looks like that is you. But the minute it hurt me, I knew it couldn’t be you. I trust you.”
He nodded, wanting to believe her logic, but these words were not enough to overcome his memory of her scrambling away from him, tears streaming from eyes full of horror at the sight of him.
“Luke,” Lena sat up and half turned to face him. Her fingers brushed along his jaw, coaxing him to turn his head and look at her. “Don’t you believe me? What about the sex we just had, wasn’t there something missing?”
The condom.
“I forgot,” he admitted, “I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t forget, but you know what? I didn’t want it. I trust you enough to have sex without them.”
“You want…a baby with me?” Luke’s stomach clenched with longing at the idea of Lena’s belly and breasts swollen with pregnancy.
“Whoa. You need to watch the b-word.”
“B-word?”
“Baby. I am not having a kid before thirty and you will tempt the birth control statistic gods with talk like that.”
Huh? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I take a pill every day that
stops me from getting pregnant, but I still needed the condom to protect me from other things.”
“Oh, so no baby?”
Lena slapped her hand over his mouth. “What did I say about the b-word?” she hissed. Her eyes were open too wide and crazed, so Luke nodded. She removed her hand. “I wish you knew more about human culture, or more particularly, L.A. twenty-something culture, then you would realize what a big deal this is.”
“I want to understand. Explain it to me.” Make me believe that there is a hope you think of me as something more than the monster I am.
“Okay, so, remember how I explained about STDs? Diseases you can spread through sex?”
“Yes.”
“No condom means I trust that you told me the truth when you said you didn’t have anything, that I want to pleasure you by letting you feel me, skin to skin,” she rubbed her fingers over his lower lip and Luke’s cock twitched. “And most importantly, no condom means I believe that you won’t go out and sleep with someone else, who could potentially give you a disease you would bring back to me.”
“Human men would do that?”
“Which part?”
“Go to another woman when they had one who had made a commitment like this?”
“Happens all the time.”
“And women, they would do this too?”
“Yep, that’s why guys should also be super careful about using condoms, but they have a tendency to want the bareback sex more.”
Luke ignored everything she’d said but the affirmative answer. He knew humans weren’t always monogamous, he’d seen plenty of movies about it. Cheating, they called it, but he hadn’t understood the emotional impact of it.
He imagined another man touching Lena, his hands spreading open her sex and teasing her nipples, another man’s cock in her sex and mouth.
Luke pushed the coffee table away. It skidded across the living room and banged into the TV stand.
“What the hell are you doing? Be careful, you almost knocked over the—”
Luke grabbed Lena’s hips and lifted her onto the couch. He pushed her legs open and moved between them.
“Luke?” Lena’s eyes were wide, like those of prey faced with a predator.
Luke reached between her legs and pushed two fingers into her sex. The movement was hard and rough, only her residual wetness allowing him to do it. Lena yelped and pressed her palms down into the couch, bracing herself.
“What are you—?”
“No one but me touches you.” He curled his fingers inside her. Her pupils dilated wider as his voice rumbled out of his chest. The vision of her in another man’s arms had snapped his control. It was the voice of the monster that crackled out of him.
“Take off your shirt.”
“Luke…”
“Strip.”
Lena’s hands fluttered to the hem of her T-shirt, inching it up, then ripping it off when he growled. Luke cupped her breast with his free hand, flicking the nipple. “No one touches you.”
Sliding his hand from her breast to the back of her neck, Luke jerked her head down for a kiss. He controlled, possessed her mouth and sex, but there was still one-way he hadn’t had her. Luke nipped her lower lip and then pulled his fingers from her.
Lena blinked and looked away, her deep breaths lifting and lowering her hard-capped breasts.
“Listen, buddy,” she panted, “this he-man routine may be sexy but I’m not some—”
Luke could barely hear her through the red haze of rage that coated the interior of his skull. He nipped the inside of her thigh and slid her off the couch. She made a distressed noise and grabbed at her leg. Luke shuddered and tried to bring himself under control. She was hurt, wounded, he had to treat her with care.
He was gentle, but firm as he turned her around and pressed her chest down to the couch cushions.
It was the same concept as what he’d done in the bedroom. This position allowed her to keep her legs closed and therefore not strain her thigh. He stroked her ass, then down the back of her legs. Luke knelt astride her calves and leaned into her, his cock bumping her sex then settling along the crack of her ass as he smoothed his hands up her back.
He spread his fingers to caress her sides as he stroked her back, touching each inch of her. Lena’s protest had fallen away to panting. She’d curled her arms up under her chest, but Luke pulled them away, folding her arms back and pressing her wrists against the small of her back, holding them in place with one of his large hands.
He growled in satisfaction at the sight of her pale wrists manacled by his dark hand, her soft, vulnerable palms turned up to the ceiling.
He leaned his hips away and ran his other hand down her ass. Palm on her upper thigh he pushed his thumb into her sex. She was freshly wet, and hot, her body betraying her pleasure at his touch, his demands.
And for Luke, the cream he found between the lips of her sex was proof that her body acknowledged him, knew of his ownership of her. He rubbed her clit a few times, then slicked his thumb up through her sex and between the cheeks of her ass. She clenched, the flexing muscles enticing him to demand her submission. He used his other fingers to roughly separate the cheeks of her ass.
“I’m going to take you here,” he growled, rubbing his thumb over her tightly closed ass.
He wet her with the moisture from her sex, thumb venturing back and forth between ass and pussy. Once she glistened with moisture and her body twitched with each caress over the soft skin of her anus, Luke started to work his thumb in. She resisted, trying to keep him out. Luke growled and nipped her shoulder, punishing her for denying him what he considered his right. She was his, he would take her.
She relaxed and he pushed his thumb in. She needed more lubrication. He thrust a few times, gentling her to the coming invasion of his cock, and then pulled his finger free. He once more dipped into her sex, scooting her body’s lubrication from one place to another. She was still beneath him, and for a moment Luke wondered if she were no longer aroused, but when he brushed her anus she moaned in pleasure.
He pushed his thumb into her once more, and then added his index finger, widening her opening as he pushed harder and harder. She was slick and aroused, allowing him to sink both fingers in to the knuckle.
He pulled them out and replaced his fingers with his cock, using his hand to push her ass apart, allowing him to watch as the head of his cock expanded her tight ring of muscle.
Inch by inch he pushed in, pressing down on the small of her back to deepen the arch. When his hips were snug against her body Luke reached beneath her, wedging his hand between her legs and the couch to find access to her clit. Demanding fingers pressed her clit, rubbing in tight circles.
He didn’t move, just worked her clit, with his cock buried deep in her ass. Only after she’d come, panting and moaning in pleasure, did he begin to move. It was a display, his primal way of showing his mate that he had the self-control to please her.
Her tight muscles had opened to accept him, her body yielding and welcoming him in whichever way he chose to possess her. He fucked her with short, hard thrusts. His fingers on her clit kept her arousal simmering, not allowing it to quiet.
He gave her two more orgasms before he came, hips pressed to hers. She sobbed her pleasure into the couch as he leaned forward and growled.
Chapter Eighteen
What had just happened?
Lena took a few deep breaths, though the process was hindered by Luke’s weight on her back and the painful press of his hands into her spine. She shifted from knee to knee, looking for a position that allowed her to take a better breath, but all that did was to make her aware of his huge cock, still planted in her ass.
He pulled out and the scrape of his skin over that of her stretched and sensitive anus had Lena biting her lip.
They were both panting, and Lena was dewed with sweat. Her breath ricocheted off the couch cushions and blew back in her face, hot and wet. Luke moved, freeing her legs from the prison of his ow
n.
Lena leapt to her feet and raced for the bathroom. She slammed the door and leaned back against it, pressing her head into the wood as her panting breath turned to shaky sobs. She locked the door and turned on the water in the sink, covering the sounds of weeping.
Pressing her hands to her face, Lena tried to sort out the feelings that writhed like multi-colored snakes in her belly. Pleasure, shame, fear, embarrassment and anger all vied for supremacy.
He’d touched her as if he owned her, had rights over her. In the moment, covered by a haze of arousal, it was perfect, feeding her fantasies, but this wasn’t like the spanking, wasn’t something they’d talked about. It was frightening that she’d liked it. She was a strong independent woman, she was supposed to want a partner, both in life and in sex, not a man who would claim to own or possess her. She owned herself.
But he wasn’t a man.
That thought actually calmed her, slowing her sobs to the point that she was able to push away from the door and turn off the faucet before getting in the shower. She stood under the water until it ran cold and her thoughts were sorted out.
They had to talk about this. Lena didn’t think Luke would turn into some possessive abusive boyfriend, but she needed to set him straight on a few things, including the fact that she would fuck whomever she pleased unless she made a commitment to him, and that wasn’t something they’d talked about.
With a clear, logical outline of what she wanted to say, Lena belted her robe and left the bathroom.
Luke was seated on the couch, wearing his cut-off sweats. He looked up at her entrance, and his beautiful brown eyes were haunted. He examined her, head to toe, then tentatively got to his feet.
“Lena, I—”
“No. I’m going to talk.” She moved to sit beside him on the couch, and Luke looked relieved that she was willing to get that close to him. “There are a few things we need to make clear. First, you do not own me.”
