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“I absolutely do,“ I reply.
“Then let me show you,“ he says.
I watch him, my breath catching in my throat as he drops gracefully to his knees. The engine isn't running anymore, but cold air hits my face from the vents. “Turn your body toward me,“ Luke says.
There's something in his eyes I can't read, something that seems like hunger. I inch closer to him, my knees pointed toward him. Then I feel his hands on my knees, his fingers warm and soft against my skin.
I know what he's doing before he does it, but that doesn't make it any less shocking. Because this man is a fucking priest.
He doesn't seem to care and I'm not going to remind him. His hands slide between my leg, up my skin until they reach my thighs, and he rests his fingers there, splayed out and hot against me. I’m wearing a sundress, my skirt sliding up my legs, the fabric covering his hands.
He tilts his head up to look at me, and I brush his black hair away from his face so I can look into his dark blue eyes. “Is this what you want?“ I ask.
“If it's what you want,“ he says, his voice shaky.
Well, when he's on his knees in front of me, how am I going to stop him? I don't have the willpower for it. And I don't want to.
I want him to do this.
I want him.
I'm not going to stop him, even though I probably should. The tips of his finger dig into the fleshy part of my legs and he's dragging me down toward him, until I feel a puff of breath on my legs. He closes his eyes as he presses his lips against my skin. He pauses, just for a second, and I wonder if he's thinking about this, if there's a chance he's going to balk now.
He doesn't. He stays at my feet, his lips now against my skin, his teeth raking along my thigh until he breathes hard against my underwear. I tangle my fingers in his hair, pushing his face away from me, but just for a second.
“You can tell me to stop,“ he says breathlessly.
“I know. I don't want you to stop.“
He smiles, his eyes looking darker in the shade. He's so fucking gorgeous. I don't know what I expect, but every time he inches closer to the juncture of my thighs, I feel myself falling deeper and deeper into this.
I'm pretty sure I should tell him we shouldn't do this, but I can't. I won't. I don't think I could, even if I managed to say anything other than 'more', because I suddenly seem unable to talk.
His hand is so hot on me it practically burns, and when he grabs the fabric of my panties to move them aside, his touch sends a shiver down my spine. I can feel his teeth grazing my skin, the heat of his quickened breath on me.
His gaze flickers up to me for a split second. I don't have to tell him to keep going. I'm sure he can tell. It isn't as if I can hide it. He nuzzles inside my thigh for a second, teasing me for longer, making me want him so much it's almost unbearable.
When he presses his mouth against me, my fingers tighten in his hair, but I let him take control.
With the fabric of my underwear out of the way, there's nothing to hold back Luke's hunger. He doesn't make me wait anymore, his tongue swirling on my clit with just enough pressure to make me want to scream. Every time his tongue touches me, I feel a flicker of electricity on my skin.
He's exceptionally good at this, but I only have one second to think about how surprising that is because he's working his tongue against me until my hips are writhing against his face. He stops for a second, then works his tongue inside of me, until I'm biting down on my lower lip so I can stop myself from screaming.
I remind myself that we're in public, that anyone could pull over or walk from the tree line and see us, but fuck, that only makes this hotter. He works on me until I'm on the edge of an orgasm, and my grip around his hair strengthens as he speeds up. My body tenses as fireworks spread from the core of my body to the tips of my fingers, until I close my eyes and see stars behind my eyelids.
I'm gasping when he pulls away from me, his lips glistening as he licks them. “See what I mean?“ he asks, as if whatever the fuck he means is a foregone conclusion.
I wonder if he's going to kiss me, but he doesn't. He gets to his feet, and before I can catch my breath and gather my thoughts, we're driving back to my mom's house.
And I'm more confused than ever.
TRINE?
When we get back, I'm sure what's happened is obvious. But Luke doesn't discuss it, and if he doesn't want to talk about it, I don't want to talk about it, either. There's plenty to worry about before I can even think about how that's going to change our dynamic. I don't want it to; I really like Luke?, and as complicated as everything's gotten with the other two, it's felt nice to have a friend among all this shit.
Then again, I don't think most friends go down on you. Maybe I have the wrong friends.
Luke clearly wants to ask me something, but then we get to my mom's house, and it's all but forgotten. I walk up the steps, wanting–needing–to talk to her. Before anything else happens, I need clarification. I need her to explain her thought process, mostly because I think I'm starting to understand exactly where she was coming from and nothing scares me quite as much as that does.
