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Need punched through him. So hard that he didn’t know how he had stayed standing. He had never, not once, wanted a woman the way he’d wanted Oti. Still wanted her now. With an uncharacteristic recklessness. As if he’d never had anyone else before.
Dazed, all Lukas could see was images of Oti, stretching in front and behind him. And then she put that hot, sharp mouth of hers on his and something detonated inside him, blowing up any sane thought in the process.
Before he knew it, his hand curled around that elegant neck of her
s and he hauled her all-too-willing body to his, revelling in the way she melded herself to him as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
He wanted to lift her into his arms, carry her across to his bed and spread her out on it. And then he wanted to feast on her as if she were his own private buffet.
Lukas had no idea how he managed not to do any of these things. Instead, he took his time. He let her mouth explore his in her own time, as if she was still in control the way she thought she was.
Then again, maybe she was. Or maybe neither of them were?
So he indulged himself. Kissing her over and over, deeper, harder, revelling in the slide of her tongue over his, triumphing in those greedy little sounds she made at the back of her throat.
And the only thought in his head was that he didn’t want it to end.
More.
The word pounded through him with every thump of his heart. Like a drumbeat that thundered in his veins.
Every taste of her was like a drug, slipping through him and leaving him feeling more intoxicated than he thought he’d ever felt in all his years.
Slowly, almost lazily, Lukas allowed his free hand to travel her body. Starting with the long, sensuous line of her spine which he made his fingers walk down with excruciating deliberation, relishing the shivers which his teasing elicited from her.
She arched into him, pressing her breasts against him, abrading her nipples against his chest as though she couldn’t stand not to be touched any longer. And he found he rather liked that image.
Lukas tore his mouth from hers, allowing his fingers, his mouth, his tongue to begin their wondrous journey of discovery. To trace their way down her jaw, down that sensitive column of her throat and to the hollow at the base.
He thought the needy groans she made might actually kill him. As if a storm was raging through him. Only the voice of reason telling him why this was a bad idea holding him back.
But he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not with his bride pressing her body to his as though she couldn’t get close enough, the carnal sounds she made racing along his sex as surely as if it were her very tongue.
And he stopped pretending he had any control left whatsoever where his new bride was concerned.
* * *
Oti was sure that he was going to drive her insane with need. Somewhere along the line, she seemed to have lost the control she’d thought she had. She wasn’t sure that she cared.
Not when her aching, heavy breasts were pressed so deliciously into Lukas’s rock of a chest, and every movement he made chafed them like some kind of exquisite torture. And somehow she couldn’t remember why she’d ever thought it was a bad idea to consummate this marriage of theirs.
Or that she’d been trying to seduce him for any other reason but this driving, primal need that she had never even known that she possessed.
He seemed intent on glutting himself on every inch of her, learning her curves with his hands, then his mouth. He dropped down her body, worshipping every last swell and dip, cupping her backside in his hands as his mouth brushed over her stomach, and abdomen, and...dear Lord...lower.
And then she was being swept up, carried across the room and laid out on his bed whilst Lukas shouldered her legs apart, the darkest, hungriest, wildest expression in that grey stare of his. It made a fluttering chase through her whole body.
‘I don’t... I haven’t...’
‘I have,’ he muttered darkly.
Then, his eyes not leaving hers for a moment as she watched, transfixed, he lowered his head and licked his way inside her.
Oti combusted. Like a thousand glorious sparks firing off all at once. Like the most spectacular fireworks. It was nothing she’d ever known before. How could it have been?
As Lukas used his mouth, his tongue, to trace her core and dip into her silken heat, all she could do was surrender to him. Moaning with each taunting stroke and bucking against him when she couldn’t help herself any longer. And when he laughed, a low, deep sound that vibrated against her very sex, she thought she would shatter into a million tiny shards.
He teased her and toyed with her. Knowing exactly what she needed to carry her out on wave after wave of incredible sensation, whilst he built the storm inside her. Higher and higher. Her hips rocked and jolted, chained to the rhythm that he was setting. Performing the dance that he wanted her to perform.
