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I shuffle my feet, still pressed up against him with his chest to my back, and I feel his hardness against my ass, sending a shock of lust through my body. Immediately shame floods me, making me angry that I can’t feel one good thing without suddenly hearing Alan’s horrible words. Whore. Slut. A toy, nothing but adollfor a man’s pleasure.
“You’re none of those things.” Luce growls, making me realize I spoke aloud once again.
“Then make me feel something, Luce. Take it all away, put my mask back on for me, because I’m tired! I’m done trying to fix myself.”
Luce spins me around, his hand gripping my hair tightly, “Listen to me, sweetness, being broken isn’t what you think it is.” He pushes me up against the wall, and I notice he’s wearing clothes that have been soaked through, molding to his hard body like a second skin.
His eyes dip down to my breasts, his finger slowly dragging over the bite scars I have, my eyes squeezing shut in shame.
“Look at me,” he orders, and I listen, “perfection is the mask, and I don’t want you wearing it. I want your bruises, your scars, your anger and tears…I want all of your demons. Because real beauty is worn uncovered and unashamed of the cracks and stitches life created.”
Luce presses his lips to mine, his tongue dipping into my mouth as he lifts my leg over his hip, grinding his jean-clad cock against my throbbing core, the friction making me moan into his mouth. I rotate my hips against him, sucking his tongue before he pulls back, my mouth chasing his automatically.
“If you want me to make you feel something, I will, but remember, there’s a reason guys like me don’t fuck girls like you.”
I feel my brows furrow, my lust clouded mind not quite understanding his words, “What?”
He doesn’t answer, he just slides two fingers though my aching pussy lips, my eyes rolling closed as his lips come down on my neck. He circles my clit, rubbing it like it’s his new stress toy. He bites on my neck, sucking my skin until it stings then moves on to my collarbone as he slides his fingers into me.
“Oh fuck, Luce. Yessss, please.”
My moans are practically incoherent as his lips wrap around my nipple, his teeth clamping around it. The mix of pain and pleasure doubles the euphoria, especially when his fingers curl and pump faster. The heel of his hand bangs against my clit repeatedly, sending pleasurable shocks through my body. I tangle my fingers into his hair, avoiding the stitches at his temple, before guiding his face lower. His fingers are talented, but I want that sinful mouth on my clit.
Luce grins up at me before yanking my hand from his hair, his tongue coming out to lick my still bleeding cut on my arm, my blood coating his lips.
“Gio may let you be in charge, but I’m not him, sweetness.”
He grins darkly, and the rush of fear and lust mixed with the pleasure of his still pumping fingers sends a whole new level of hunger through me.
He slides his blood coated tongue through my pussy lips, twirling my nub, and I can’t take my eyes off him. My mouth drops open as he moves his tongue like a snake’s before sucking in my clit hard enough for my leg to give out, but I snap it back at the last minute, my fingers latching onto Luce’s hair for stability.
I grind against his face, my climax coming up incredibly fast until I’m free falling.
Luce pulls his fingers out, my channel still fluttering as he licks my juices from both digits. Fuck me, the look of pure lust and need in his eyes has me ready for more, but he stands quickly and yanks the towel from the rack. He wraps it around me, suddenly acting like nothing happened, and I feel like I’ve just imagined everything took place seconds ago.
What the fuck?
