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He keeps us together as he moves us to the side of the bed. I wrap my arms around his neck. He still has us connected, still hard inside of me. I don’t want him to sever the connection. He doesn’t.
Not until I fall asleep in his arms.
LUCILA
THE PAST
My eyes flicker open and close, as if someone is flipping the light switch on and off. I fell asleep. I didn’t even wake up when Lilo carried me into the bathroom. But the light is soft, because he’s lit the fragrant candle I keep on the sink and turned the bright lights off.
He keeps me close to his side so I won’t fall over as he bends and runs hot water in the tub. I can smell our sex in the air. I’m all over him, and he’s all over me. My thighs are wet and sticky. Blood is crusted on his. Scratches mar his skin. Purple marks color mine where only we can see them.
He says nothing, but it’s hard for me to take my eyes off him. He’s too gorgeous for words. Every so often, I check the full-length mirror on the wall behind me so I can get a good look at his ass. When he bends over again to check the temperature of the water, his balls come into view.
I’m feeling hot again. It’s not from the steam fogging up the mirror, either. I shiver from the clash of heat in my veins and the chill touching my naked body.
He looks at me, his eyes like melted chocolate in the glow. “Come on, baby,” he says. “You need to get warm.”
“I’m okay.” The chattering of my teeth makes me out to be a liar. But I’m not. It’s the attraction I feel. It’s powerful. Powerful enough to pull such a physical reaction from me.
He doesn’t say anything as he lifts me off my feet. He’s careful when he steps in and then lowers us down. I hiss at the feel of the water. It’s hot, almost unpleasant at first. But then I settle into it with him. He’s behind me, and my back is pressed to his front.
The house is old, with deep, wide, six-foot tubs, which I’m thankful for. I’m covered almost to my breasts.
Lilo is right. We fit together. I realize I’m sinking into him instead of the water. He cups some and tilts his hand, letting it flow over me, even though only my nipples are uncovered. They’re hard, and when he starts to barely touch them, I moan—deep and long.
“Relax,” he says. “You’re going to be sore.”
“I already am,” I say. “But I don’t want to stop. I want more.”
He leans down and kisses my neck. His fingers tease my nipples, and I push back against him. He groans. Then he’s moving us, unplugging the tub. As the water rinses down the drain, he keeps my back pressed to his front. He’s twisting my nipple now, and it sends a spark straight between my legs. His free hand follows the heat, and he starts to caress. I’m already gone. I’ve already surrendered. And I gasp when he enters me from behind. He stops touching my nipple and sticks his finger in my mouth.
To quiet me.
I start to suck while he fucks me. He switches positions, but I don’t feel the disconnect. I’m kneeling, my palms to the base of the tub, and he’s still behind me. My body is dripping water and sweat. He stops moving and I make a garbled noise.
“You want me, baby?”
“Yes,” I barely get out.
“How much?”
I can’t think. So, I react. I move.
He moves with an animalistic sound, but slowly, and he’s going so deep. He spreads my ass cheeks. He’s watching.
“You’re so perfect. Mine. All fucking mine,” he says, sliding in and out. “I love watching as you open for me. Take me deep inside. I love watching as I fuck you. You have no idea what you do to me. How much I love you.” His hisses out a breath. He starts to move faster. Harder.
He’s holding back, but only his body, so it doesn’t impale mine.
The slap of our bodies is louder in here. And when I come, it’s with a cry. A cry that sounds like I’ve done the impossible. Like climb the highest and roughest mountain and have reached the top. He spills himself in me right after with a deep noise that sounds like it hurt his chest.
We stay that way for a second. I’m not sure if I can even move. My chest is tight, like I ran up that mountain, and I’m having a hard time catching my breath. He places a soft kiss on my lower back, where it dips, before he slides out of me. Before I can even make a noise, he’s hauling me up by the stomach, and we’re in the same position as we were before. The plug is back in the tub and it’s filling up again.
He washes my hair and my body clean. It’s gentle. So nice. And I’m like Hoffa when she purred because of Lilo’s touch.
He chuckles in my ear after he pulls the stopper with his toes. “You need sleep.”
I’m so tired that I don’t even answer. His chuckle turns quieter, darker. It sends goosebumps over my skin, and I shiver. He gets out before me, but he doesn’t leave me behind—he scoops me up like I weigh nothing. Grabbing a towel, he sops up every droplet of water from my skin and then dries himself before he wraps it around his waist. He drapes a dry towel over my shoulders.
