Page 146 of Love Unspoken

"Lucas." I put my hand on his cheek. He opened his eyes. "Give it to me hard, honey."

We knew each other's bodies well. After all, we'd had a lot of sex. There were times it was slow and sweet; other times it was rough and fast; and sometimes, when we were overcome with emotion, it was both at the same time.

His hips snapped and he thrust hard into me. He kept his pace forceful but slow. His cock hit my G-spot at every downward stroke, and my release built up again, bigger than before.

"More," I pleaded, "I need to come."

"You'll come with me," he growled. "With me. Got it? This first time, I need us to…."

He seemed to lose the capacity to speak as he ground inside of me. I raised my hips so I could feel him deep. I knew exactly when he lost control. He began to groan loudly; his rhythm went haywire. We were now both frantically seeking our release.

He hit my G-spot relentlessly, and a violent orgasm ripped through me. I wrapped my legs around him, holding him close, raising my hips, wanting to feel all of him, wanting to let him feel what he did to me. In response to my pussy pulsing around him, I felt his erection jerk, and he roared as he went balls deep again.

We lay on the bed like sailors in a shipwreck, exhausted but happy to be alive. Lucas rested his face against my neck, so I looked to my side to see the damage. I'd pulled the bedspread off, and the fitted sheet had come loose sometime during our vigorous sex session.

I giggled, and Lucas looked up at me.

"We'll have to make the bed," I told him.

It used to be an old joke because we always made a mess of the bed.

He said what he always did, smiling because he was doing what I was; reclaiming us, bringing the past into the present, removing the taint that had set in when we were apart. "Fuck it. My dick is happy being inside of you and doesn't want to leave."

The three words almost spilled out of me then, but I wasn't ready to say them, not yet.

He kissed me softly. "I'm gonna clean you up and make the bed, and then we're going to get some sleep."

"Yeah?"

"It's simple. All you need to do is stay. Let me do all the work." I knew he was talking about more than the state of my bed.

"Okay, Lucas. I'll stay…for now," I agreed, my heart galloping, my fear of getting hurt visceral.

He rewarded me with a big smack on my lips. "Thank you, Tesoro. I promise I'll work hard to change for now to forever."

EIGHTEEN

LUCAS

The one night with Amara had been a gift—and since then, she'd kept me at arm's length.

"I don't want to rush this," she told me when I showed up like a puppy dog panting for scraps.

I understood. She was afraid. She didn't have faith in me, in us—and I had only myself to blame. If we'd been honest with each other, if I'd shared the pressures of being a Covington and she'd told me how she was really feeling, maybe we could have faced our struggles together. But I chose to keep my problems from her, and she didn't want to seem needy or demanding, so she kept hers from me.

The result was losing each other—and that loss cut deep, all the way to my soul. I knew it did for her, too.

I was a practical man. I didn't believe in soulmates and that shit—but if I did, I'd say that Amara was mine.

We had dinner together; she insisted on eating at her place. She wasn't ready to take our "nascent non-relationship" (her words) out into the world just yet.

I knew she wanted to set the pace, but I didn't get ahead in business by holding back. I had no idea how she'd respond, but I was going all in.

I was staking my claim, I thought as I parked just outside the College of Charleston campus. My pulse quickened as I stared through the windshield at the main building. This wasn't exactly my usual territory, but then again, nothing about my life had been typical lately. I was here because I needed to be—because it was time to stop hiding behind excuses and finally do something about the mess I'd made with Amara.

My conversation with Grandma had stuck with me. She'd made it clear that if I wanted Amara, I needed to fight for her. So, that's precisely what I intended to do.

I grabbed the picnic basket from the passenger seat—a little over the top, maybe, but I wasn't about to half-ass this—and made my way across campus.