Page 63 of Lucas

“Do you want me to kiss you here?” he asked as he ran his thumb over the slickness.

“God yes,” she said on an exhale. If he didn’t she might die from wanting.

His lips crashed down over hers, strong and hot and demanding. His tongue snaked into her mouth and boldly stroked every inch as if he owned it, urging her to open wider under his unspoken command. Fire exploded in her gut and she dropped her notebook and pen and grabbed a hold of his forearms to anchor herself.

A long low groan left her throat and he swallowed the sound.

No one had ever kissed her like this. She felt consumed by his mouth and never wanted him to stop. As if he knew exactly what she was thinking he pulled his lips away and stared into her eyes. They were only inches apart and his breath came out in short exhales, matching her own breathlessness.

She leaned back toward him, her lips seeking more before her mind could catch up. His fingers dug into the back of her neck and held her still.

“Are you wet?” he asked harshly. His free hand rested on the inside of her bare thigh and slowly slid upwards, toward the junction of her legs.

All the breath in her lungs froze. His hand seared her leg and she clenched her knees together on instinct. No one had ever touched her there.

“I...I don’t know,” she answered honestly. She ached between her legs and squeezing her knees together had only made the need worse.

“Do you want me to find out?”

All the sound in the room silenced except for the thud of her heartbeat in her ears. Ever so slowly, she inched her knees apart and held her breath when his hand started to slide up. When his finger brushed the outside of her panties and she tensed, on edge and ready for more.

A low growl came from him and he nudged the silk aside and drew that finger up her center, parting her folds and sinking the tip inside her. Her body jerked and she cried out at the flood of sensation rippling through her. He moved slowly in and out, sinking a little deeper each time.

“So wet,” he murmured, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

Her stomach clenched when he ran his finger up and over the swollen nub throbbing between her legs, making slow circles until her mouth fell open. He nipped his way to her ear and took her lobe between his teeth.

“Tell me the truth. You like it when I touch you there…”

She nodded. “Yes. God, yes,” she admitted softly.

“Do you want me to taste you?” The deep rumble of his voice sank down into her bones and they went liquid when he slipped his finger back inside. “I’ll bet you're so fucking sweet.”

She’d never heard words like that, spoken in a voice like that, and it made her want things she didn’t even know how to ask for. She leaned back against the couch and let her legs fall open as much as they could with her skirt in the way.

It was hard to look into his eyes but she forced herself to meet his gaze. She wanted to see his eyes, needed to know he felt as out of control as she did. A different kind of heat climbed into her cheeks as he just sat there, watching her reactions while his finger kept moving inside her, deeper with each stroke.

“Well?”

Bria blinked her confusion. What had he asked her? “Well?” she asked breathlessly.

“Do you want me to taste that sweet pussy of yours Ms. Long?”

His gaze went dark for a few seconds when he buried his finger inside her wet warmth and swiped her clit with his thumb.

“Yes,” she whimpered, lifting her hips against his touch.

A burning satisfaction filled his eyes and he pulled free from her. She cried out at the loss of contact. When he sat up she saw the sizeable bulge in his dress pants and for second, her mouth went dry. She wanted to see it. Feel it. Taste it. Would he lay her back against the couch and fuck her? But before she could think about that, he pushed her skirt up to her waist and pulled her panties down over her legs.

She sat on his leather couch open and exposed to him. Heat climbed into her cheeks when he didn’t make any move to get closer. The longer he stared, the more she shifted. No man had ever seen her like this before.

What if there was something wrong with her? What if he didn't like how neatly trimmed she was. What if he preferred the smooth skin she’d never had the guts to try?

After several more long seconds of staring Ashton got up off the couch and went to his desk where he picked up the phone. Confusion filled her and she started to close her legs.

“No.” His sharp voice took her by surprise. Her gaze jerked to his and she was pinned in place by his commanding stare. “Don’t move.”

His demand made her body burn and she wanted to close her legs now just for the relief that friction would give her. She didn’t have a lot of experience with any of this, hell who was she kidding, she’d never done anything like this with a man before and she had no idea if her reactions were the right ones or not.