by Carian Cole
Helping me off with my coat, he also removes my lace jacket and lays them on the wooden bench in the foyer by the door.
I shake the snow off my head, laughing. “I didn’t know we were supposed to get sn—”
I’m cut off by him grabbing me around the waist, spinning me around, and pushing me up against the wall, his hand fisting my hair and yanking my head to the side, my cheek pressed against the stone wall. His body engulfs mine, his muscular chest pressed against my back, his hard cock against my ass, his thighs flush to the back of mine. I feel trapped between his body and the stone wall of his foyer, and I relish in it, my heart pounding hard against my ribs. I want to be in his prison.
“Put your hands on the wall.” His voice is breathless and raspy, just above a whisper in my ear. A shiver trots down my spine, but I do as he says, simply because he told me to. And right here, in this moment, with his beautiful hard body against mine, his hand tangled in my hair, I would do anything he asked of me. I press my palms against the wall—the wall that was once a church.
“Ask me why I live in a church,” he says, as if reading my mind, gathering more of my hair in his hand and gently pulling it all away from my face and neck.
“Why do you live here?” I ask breathlessly.
“So you can worship every . . . fucking . . . inch . . . of me.”
Oh, shit. Sweet Lukas has left the building.
“And I plan to do the same to you, doll.”
He touches his lips against the side of my neck, while his free hand goes to my waist, holding me as he begins an oral assault like I have never imagined. He moves his mouth down to the side of my throat, kissing, sucking, and nipping at my flesh, slowly dragging his tongue down to my collarbone. He continues raining more kisses upon me, tugging my hair, forcing my head to arch back more so he can lick and suck my exposed neck like a hungry vampire, the piercings on his lip and tongue flicking over my flesh. I practically go limp against his body, the feel of his warm wet lips intoxicating me, rendering me drunk and woozy.
Pushing my silk top up until it’s bunched up at my shoulders, his lips come down on my bared back, kissing and licking between my shoulder blades, igniting warm tingles throughout my entire body. I feel him unhooking my bra, the fabric falling to my sides, and his tongue slithers down my spine, slowly tasting me, until he is kneeling behind me, kissing the small of my back. Letting go of my hair, he grabs the waist of my jeans in his hands and pulls them down, along with my panties, in one swift yank, making me gasp. They pool around my ankles, leaving me naked against the wall. I’ve never been so incredibly exposed, and I’m caught some place between incredibly flustered and wildly excited.
“Lukas . . .”
“Shhh . . . trust me, and you won’t walk out of here the same, baby.”
His hands slowly caress my thighs, while his lips travel over my hip, then down further, kissing my buttocks, lightly nipping me, making me jump.
“Turn around,” he whispers, his hands on my hips, guiding me around, leaving me no choice but to turn to him. I lean my back and head against the wall, lightheaded, and look down at him, kneeling in front of me like a sexual God, his eyes glazed and full of smoky desire and passion. My God, he actually wants me. Me.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, skimming his hands up my calves, then up my thighs, and finally resting on my hips. Leaning forward, he kisses my stomach—my most hated part of myself. I reach down and try to pull his head away, but he grabs my hands and holds them to my sides while he continues to kiss my stomach.
“There’s no part of you I don’t want,” he says, and I lean back and close my eyes, trying to quell my insecurities and just lose myself in him and his touch. Letting go of my hands, he slides his palms down my hips and to my thighs, gently pushing my legs apart. I feel his lips encompass my clit, flicking his tongue slowly over that tiny sensitive spot before sucking it into his mouth. My entire body lurches from the unexpected shock of pleasure, but he holds me still with his hands and pushes his face between my thighs, running his tongue along my pink flesh, parting my lips. His mouth feels incredible, so warm and wet, and my legs go weak as he licks me, my pussy quivering, aching for more of him.
Standing, he drags his hands up my body and rests them on my neck, lightly squeezing while kissing me long and deep, possessing me, his tongue dancing with mine.
“I’m taking you upstairs,” he growls between kisses. “And I don’t plan on letting you out for a long time. So if you don’t want this, please stop me now.”
My breath catches in my throat. Only Lukas would say please in the middle of an insanely sexy sentence and still make it hot as hell. I shake my head. No. Don’t ever stop.
“Nuh uh,” he says. “No nodding or head shakes. Tell me what you want.” He runs his thumb across my lower lip, his dark eyes locked on to mine. “I want to hear you say it.”
I swallow and try to remember how to make words. “I want you.”
He picks me up and carries me past Ray, who squawks at us as Lukas carries me up the stairs then down the hall to his bedroom, laying me down on his king-sized bed. Rock music is coming from hidden speakers, the deep bass sound thumping in time with my heart. To the right of the bed, the flames of an electric fireplace bathe the room in an orange glow.
I lie motionless and soundless on his black comforter, as he pulls off my shoes and the rest of my clothes, then stands at the foot of the bed just looking at me like he’s memorizing me. Finally, he backs up a few steps and starts to undress himself, watching me watch him. He moves slowly and deliberately, a private seductive strip tease just for me. I envy his confidence as he peels off his clothes, revealing his perfectly sculpted body, adorned with black tattoos that seem to cover eighty percent of his body. Watching him undress is like watching someone unwrap a beautiful surprise gift, not knowing exactly what’s inside but not caring because the journey to get to the reveal is just as special as the gift itself.
His bedroom is magnificent with its cathedral ceiling, wood beams and massive stained glass windows. Lukas standing naked at the center of it, beneath a huge black metal crucifix on the wall, entices a mix of feelings deep within me. He is dark and light, an angel fallen and lost, sinfully sweet, dirty and damaged from the descent. I want him on me, in me, beside me. I want to breathe him into me and never exhale. I am completely enraptured by him.
He moves slowly toward the bed, his huge hard cock leading the way, his eyes locked on to mine. Crawling on top of me, he lowers his naked body onto mine and leans up on his arms, looking down at me, wisps of his silky hair falling into my face like a black waterfall.
“Do you think you could love me?” My chest tightens hearing the raw emotion in his voice. Buried in this beautiful erotic man, there still lives an abandoned little boy who believes he’s unloved. Unwanted. It breaks my heart in two, not just as a mother, but as the woman who cherishes this man’s heart so much already.
I reach up and move his hair to the side, so I can see his eyes more clearly.
“Lukas, I could definitely love you.” I swallow hard, afraid to say too much, but even more afraid to not say enough when he needs it. “I feel like I’ve already loved you, and now my heart’s just waking up, remembering how.”
“That’s exactly how it feels.” His voice is low as he slides his hand down my body, between us, between my legs. His fingers glide over my wet lips before one slowly slides into me. He sucks in a breath and kisses my mouth, breathing against my lips.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, his finger swirling around inside me, making me delirious.
“Yes.”
“I’ve never had sex without a condom before. Ever. I want to be inside you. I don’t want to keep taking it off and putting another one on to start over. I want to make love to you without any interruptions.”
I stare up at him for a few minutes. I didn’t know people talked about stuff like this, and to be honest, it’s something I hadn’t even thought about. Eighteen year
s of marriage will put you in the dark about these things. But, I know Lukas wouldn’t lie to me or do anything to hurt me. I trust him.
“It’s okay . . . I won’t get pregnant.”
He nods. “Are you okay with me?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you,” he whispers and kisses me into sweet oblivion. He thanked me.
He moves down my body, kissing my breasts, his tongue circling my nipple, dragging his lip ring over it, making it harden before sucking it into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive flesh and sending jolts of pleasure down to my core. I squeeze my thighs around his hand, wanting more of everything.
He lifts his head and grins deviously down at me. “I’m gonna let you decide, baby.” He bends down and kisses me between my breasts, then drags his tongue up to my throat, gently biting me there.
“Decide?” I repeat.
“I can kiss you everywhere and slowly make you fuckin’ crazy until you beg for me, or I can just bury my cock in you right now and ravish the rest of you after you’re done coming all over me.”
“Oh,” I reply absently, my voice trembling. I almost had an orgasm just hearing him dirty talk while his finger lazily slides in and out of me, lulling me seductively.
“Oh?” he teases, pressing his body hard against mine, his hot, long length resting against my thigh. Sweet Jesus.
I wrap my arms around him and slide my hands down his back. “Do the bury thing,” I say breathlessly.
Pulling his hand out from between my thighs, he grabs my leg and lifts it up around his waist, while at the same time plunging his cock deep into me in one smooth, hard motion.
I let out a small cry that’s a myriad of surprise, pleasure, and pain, and he stills on top of me, unmoving, just holding himself inside me. He feels perfect, like he was made to be right where he is now. I close my eyes and hold my breath, savoring every part of him—how he feels, how he smells, how he tastes, how his breathing sounds. He’s incredible. Never have I felt this way, and I probably never will again. Brushing my hair aside with his hand and cupping my cheek, he kisses my face softly.
“Breathe, little doll,” he whispers between kisses. “I’m going to make you fly.”
He moves in and out of me slowly, making sure I feel every hard inch of him as he spreads and stretches me wider and deeper than I’ve ever been before. He’s long and thick, putting my ex to shame. Sorry, Paul. Even sorrier, Charlene.
Everything about him feels so big and powerful; he is solid muscle and has incredible control over his body and movements. Nothing about him is sloppy or awkward. And nothing about him feels twenty-four.
His hips roll in a wide circular motion, grinding his cock into me, rubbing against my clit in perfect rhythm. Sighing with pleasure, I wrap my legs around his waist and slide my hands down his body to grab his muscular ass. He kisses my mouth deeper, his tongue piercing banging my teeth. I open my eyes to find his dark ones staring back into mine.
“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he pants, leaning his forehead against mine.
“So do you,” I glide my hands up his back, damp with sweat, and grip his wide shoulders.
“You want more?”
I nod and find his lips. “Yes . . .” I purr.
He leans up, grabs my knees with his hands, and spreads my legs wide, pounding into me, hard and fast.
Holy mother. I feel like he’s pummeling me into next week. He slows, tantalizing me, pulling out and using his hand to rub the head of his cock up and down my dripping lips, then slamming deep inside me again. He repeats this insanity until I’m writhing and screaming like a cat in heat. I don’t know who I am anymore, and I don’t care. All I want is him and everything he wants to give me.
He shakes his head as he drives into me, his sweaty hair flying around his head, and flashes me a sexy smile.
Reaching under me, he pulls me up until I am on his lap, my legs wrapped around his waist, and his muscled arms go around me, holding me close to him. We kiss, slower now, and his hands move down to cup my ass, lifting me up and down on his cock, grinding me against him. It feels amazing, having him buried deep inside me while he kisses me and moves me up and down on him. I hold his face in my hands as we kiss, then slide my hands to the back of his neck, my fingers gripping his hair.
Our bodies find a perfect rhythm, and soon, I feel the ecstasy building inside me. Gripping his hair harder, he moans against my mouth as I start to unravel and explode around him. He holds me and kisses me with turbulent passion, whispering things I can’t even understand, as I tremble and shake with orgasm. With a hard thrust and a growl deep in his throat, I feel him come inside me. And he’s right; I’m flying, my mind and body reveling in how exquisite he feels. Everything else has disappeared. All I can feel, see, hear, and taste is Lukas.
My dark angel.
He lays me gently on my back and turns us on our sides, face to face, still connected, our hands slowly caressing each other’s bodies, kissing softly. I’ve never felt so physically and emotionally connected to another person. We lie kissing like this for a long time. He makes love to me again, slow and drowsy, until I am whimpering and quivering against him again, and he whispers my name over and over again as he comes inside me.
I’ve fallen so hard that my heart has a concussion.
I wake up sometime later in his arms atop his huge bed. Watching him sleep, I’m captivated by how beautiful he is. I don’t feel like me anymore, more like I’m just his. I can’t remember what it felt like to not be his. I want to kiss him, hold him, and love him until time ceases to exist, and then I want to love him some more. I don’t want him to ever feel unwanted again. The mere thought of it rips my heart to shreds.
Carefully lifting his arm off me, I climb out of the high bed and tiptoe to the bathroom connected to his bedroom, my legs and lady parts sore from all the bed romping.
I’m startled by the size of the bathroom with a big jacuzzi tub in one corner and a glass shower in the other. I can’t believe someone as young as him lives like this, with so much luxury. He seems unphased by it, though, and not at all spoiled. I freshen up a bit and then realize my cell phone is downstairs with my coat and purse. I grab his shirt off the bedroom floor, pull it over my head, and quietly walk through the house. The glow coming in from the stained glass windows and the dim lights he has placed in various areas of the houses gives me enough light to see where I’m going.
“Hello,” Ray says when I reach the bottom of the stairs, scaring the heck out of me.
“Shh . . . go to sleep,” I whisper at him.
“I’m taking you upstairs,” he mimics in Lukas’ voice. Shit! This bird not only saw us fooling around in the hallways, he heard us.
“Ray!” I hiss. “No! Bad bird! Stop saying that!” I wonder for how long he remembers phrases for, and hope he forgets it by tomorrow.
“Upstairs,” he says.
Ignoring the bird, I grab my purse and go back upstairs. Lukas is still sound asleep, the blanket covering him from the waist down. I sit on the floor next to the bed and check my cell phone. I have a text from Macy, saying she’s okay and at Shelly’s, and a missed call from Tommy. I quickly reply to Macy that I’ll see her tomorrow. I feel awful that I missed Tommy’s goodnight call and hope he’s not upset I didn’t answer—something I’ve never done before. A text comes in as I’m staring at my phone, and I’m irked to see it’s from Paul and not Macy.
Paul: Where are you?
Me: Out
Paul: Where?
Me: None of your business. Is Tommy ok?
Paul: Yes. He called and u didn’t answer.
Me: I know and I’m sorry. I will call him in the morning.
Paul: Are you home?
What the heck is with his interrogation? Rude.
I look around Lukas’ room while I debate answering Paul’s annoying messages. I count six different gargoyle statues watching over the bed. I’m not sure if they are cool or creepy.
Me: No
<
br /> Paul: Then where are you? It’s 2am.
Me: I know what time it is. Why aren’t you enjoying the wonders of Charlene?
Paul: She’s sleeping.
Me: I’m going to do the same. I’m tired. I’ll call Tommy in the morning.
Paul: Where are you sleeping, Ivy?
Me: I’m on a date.
Paul: With who?????
Me: Fuck off
I mute his texts and stuff my phone back into my purse. Who the hell does he think he is?
As soon as I climb up on the bed, Lukas stirs and opens his eyes, squinting at me in the dim light cast from the electric fireplace.
“Ivy? You okay?”
“I was just checking my phone to see if the kids called.”
He stretches and sits up. “They okay?”
I nod and scoot closer to him. “Yeah, I missed Tommy’s call. I feel bad.”
He pulls me into his arms and kisses the top of my head. “I’m sorry. From now on, we’ll make sure you have your cell phone with you all the time when you’re here, and you can give them my house number. They can call here any time.”
“It’s okay. I can’t be attached to them twenty-four-seven.”
“I know . . . but I want you to be relaxed here and not worried, and I want your kids to know where you are.”
“You’re a sweetheart, you know that?”
He tugs at the hem of the shirt I’m wearing. “Take this off. I wore it on stage. It’s probably all sweaty.”
I smile but pull the shirt over my head and lay it on the floor next to the bed. “I don’t mind wearing your sweaty shirt,” I say, smiling.
“You’re staying the night, right?” he asks, rolling on top of me.
“If you want me to, then yes.”
“Are you kidding? Of course I do. I don’t want you to ever leave.”
“I can stay the night.”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “That’ll do for now.”
