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Things We Left Behind (Knockemout, #3)(193)

Author:Lucy Score

It felt like magic. We were magic.

He braced a hand under my rear end, angling me until my back was on the table. And then I felt the probing finger. First it dipped between my legs where I had turned to Aquawoman. Then it slid higher, dancing up the cleft between my cheeks. It stopped and probed gently at the puckered entrance.

He pulled back from my breast, leaving my nipple damp and distended. There was a question in his eyes. He was asking for permission.

I didn’t trust my words. So I answered him the best way I could, by shifting my hips and pushing back against that finger.

With a possessive growl, Lucian speared one finger into my rear end just as his other fingers curled inside my sex. His cock released a surge of precum onto my fingers. He liked possessing my body, craved it even.

I was hanging on by one teeny, tiny, tensile thread. I was spread open and filled up. My entire body was taut with the need to orgasm. And when his mouth found my breast once again, when he gave one, deep suck, I came apart.

The orgasm slammed into me, wrecking me. My inner walls clamped down on his fingers as he worked them inside me.

I kept working his cock with my hand, kept riding his fingers, kept pressing back against that single digit that filled me in a brand-new way.

“That’s my girl,” he muttered. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come.”

I clung to his cock like it was an anchor in the storm while my orgasm ravaged us both.

“Let me come on you,” he demanded roughly.

But I had other ideas.

I released his erection and pushed against his chest. He backed off immediately. “Tell me what you need,” he said, his voice husky.

I slipped off the edge of the table and sank to my knees in front of him.

“This,” I said, reaching out to encircle the root of his shaft with my hand. “Please.”

Fire blazed to life in those gray eyes when he realized what I was asking for.

His cock surged in my hand, wanting what I was asking for. Needing it.

“I trust you to take care of Hugo. I want you to trust me to take care of you,” I told him.

Lucian swallowed hard, his cheeks hollowing above the groomed edge of his beard. Then he nodded. My heart climbed into my throat. It was acquiescence enough. He was going to let me give him this.

I leaned forward and danced my tongue over him from root to tip. His convulsive shudder and whispered oath gave me the confidence of an oral sex superhero.

I parted my lips and, with no warning, took him to the back of my throat.

Lucian’s fist came down on the tabletop behind me. “Christ!” he barked as I worked him with mouth and fist. I took as much of him as I could, wanting to systematically seduce him, to reduce him to the need to come.

I cupped his velvety sack and squeezed.

A finger gently slid over my cheek. I looked up at him from my knees. He was a king, a titan, but I was in control. Then that finger was gone and he was shoving his hand roughly into my hair. “Dammit, Sloane. You’re the only one,” he muttered.

I let him guide my head with his hand, setting a new rougher, faster pace. The last vestiges of his control had vanished. I had done that to him.

He said it again and again as he filled my mouth over and over again. “You’re the only one.”

My fingers tightened on his heavy sack, and Lucian froze and held at the back of my throat. There was a sudden hot burst of precum.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he said. Dragging my mouth off his cock, he tackled me to the cold tile. “Say yes,” he said, notching the head of his erection between my legs with jerky movements.

“Yes!”

He held me in place with one hand on my shoulder and, with one surge, entered me. “Take me. All of me,” he ordered, his beard abrading my neck.

I was dizzyingly full. It felt so good. It was too much and yet somehow exactly right. There was nothing between us. I was fully possessed by him.

It was raw, real, and God help me, I wanted more. And Lucian gave it to me. When he released the first hot rope of come inside me, I obediently followed him, careening over the edge. I had no other choice.

“God. Yes, Sloane. My Sloane.” He groaned as he came and came inside me, detonating a release like no other.

Maeve: So Party Crasher Kurt and I talked and we’re going to try again.

Me: Hallelujah! I can’t wait to tell your kids about how Auntie Sloane made out with Daddy Kurt once when Mommy Maeve was being a dumbass.

Maeve: Maybe it’s best to leave that out of the conversation.

Me: Aha! You didn’t automatically dismiss the idea of having kids with Kurt! I knew you LIKED him liked him!