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Lucas
My head spins. I feel like I’m fucking drunk. All I can think or say or feel is Grace, Grace, Grace.
She’s everywhere—under my skin, her sweet scent clouding my senses and my mind, the softness of her body filling me with a deep craving that destroys rational thought.
I want to be inside her. I want to tell her how she controls me, how she possesses me. Body, mind, and soul. She’ll never stop haunting me, holding power over me for fucking eternity.
She doesn’t know how badly she’s fucking with me right now.
I can feel her pussy aching for me despite the panties covering her sweet spot, already soaked with need. She pretends not to care, she pretends to be cool and aloof, but this is all the evidence I need right here. No matter how much she claims to hate me, her body will betray itself over and over again.
I know because she does the same to me.
Over and over and over again, I’m brought back to her. I fall at her knees like a fucking slave, ready to do anything for her, wanting to reclaim moments of our past that should be lost forever.
Holy fuck, I think as her soft exhale teases at my lips.
She’s trying to stay still. I know she is. But her hips press against my touch in an effort to find more pressure, more friction. She tries to hide the panting of her breath, but she can’t stop herself from rocking her pussy against my palm.
Jesus fucking Christ. She smells so damn sweet that I want to bury myself in her forever, in more ways than one; I want to pound into her at the same time I breathe in the scent at her neck, at the same time I bite down on her skin.
I want to get drunk on her.
I want to binge on her.
My thoughts are assaulted with a deep urge to dominate her. Claim her as my own. I want to leave my mark on her and make sure she knows who the fuck she belongs to. Make sure Zaid and Hale and Ciro know who the fuck owns her.
I drag my hands up her body and let my raging arousal press up against her softness, showing her exactly what she does to me. I want her to feel my length and picture it inside of her, in her hands, in her mouth.
My hands make quick work of the clasp at her back, slipping my thumb and finger underneath it before tugging her bra down her arms. Her breasts spill free, and I pull off my shirt, needing to feel her skin on my skin; wanting to lose myself in the spot between her breasts, take them in my mouth, worship them.
I walk her backward three steps and push her onto the bed before crawling up onto the mattress, reveling in the feel of her underneath me, the drag of her nipples over my chest. My cock aches like a motherfucker, like it’s pissed as shit at me for the past six years. Furious that I let this gorgeous creature walk out of my life—never mind that I had no damn say in the matter.
As I drape my body over her, settling between her legs with only my pants and her thin scrap of underwear separating us, desperate need rages through me. I want to see her fall apart beneath me as I touch her, squirm against my body as—
Shit.
What the fuck am I doing?
Her breath comes in pants, her breasts straining against my chest, taunting me. They remind me of exactly what I want, and exactly what I can’t fucking have.
As fast as I fell into this sea of lust, I snap out of it, realizing what I was just about to do. Realizing who I was about to betray.
Hale.
The syndicate.
Myself.
All for a woman who already betrayed all of us.
I tear my lips away from hers and rear back, staring down at Grace as I wipe the back of my hand over my mouth.
“Don’t fucking do that again,” I grate out, breathing hard. “I promise you, if you’re hiding something, you’re going to be punished for it.”
Grace stares up at me with a dazed look on her face, as if she just woke up and can’t decide if she was having a dream or a nightmare. Her cheeks are flushed, her nipples pink and hard, and her mouth hangs slightly open.
“I didn’t… do anything.” Her voice is husky, and the sound of it makes my traitorous cock twitch and strain against my pants.
