Page 39 of The Burn List
Another wave of climaxes milks my cock. She bites my palm.
It sends me over the edge. On a rush, I explode.
“Jesus, Abby!” I clamp my jaw tight to keep from roaring while every ounce of come I have spurts hot and fast inside her.
I hold her tight as bone-deep satisfaction seeps through me, eradicating the whisper that I’m in too deep.
* * *
Abby
“You belong to me.”What had Lukas meant?
I catch my breath, hoping to quell the shaking.
After being driven so crazy all night, I’d been past the breaking point when he staked his claim, and my heart had answered back with a resounding yes. Thank god he’d had his hand over my mouth and I hadn’t been able to answer.
It was just sex talk, right?
Dirty, heat-of-the-moment words that meant nothing. It’s been twenty-four hours, and we are having fun.
All I need to remember is that Lukas doesn’t do commitment. He does fantastic sex, but not commitment. The intensity makes things so hot, nothing more, nothing less. That’s it.
He didn’t mean it.
I listen to his labored breathing while his big hands rest on my back and my analytical brain starts to take over.
What about in the bar? When his friend Trevor had wanted to dance with me? Or the way Lukas looked at me from across the room?
No. Stop. We are checking off my list.
We start to cool, and he pulls out of me before sliding my skirt back in place.
Fun, Abby, this is fun.
When I hear his zipper, I turn to face him, a ready smile on my lips.
He’s wearing a dark expression I can’t decipher, and the smile fades. A flutter of nerves settles in my belly. Have I given something away? I don’t have it in me to guess what he’s thinking so I ask, “Is everything okay?”
He curls a hand around my neck, tracing his thumb along my lower lip. “What are you doing to me?”
“What do you mean?” My pulse races, and my heart rate speeds back up again.
He presses his forehead to mine. “You’re killing me here. I already want you again.”
I blink hard. Is it possible I’m actually giving Lukas Marlow a run for his money? We’re not in the throes of passion. Maybe he isn’t just throwing away words to make me hot. My lashes flutter. “Aren’t you just trying to knock stuff off my list?”
He shakes his head, his fingers tightening around my nape. “I didn’t give one thought to your list when I was hell-bent on getting inside you.”
I want to know more. I want to understand.
On a deep breath, I bravely ask the question I’m most afraid to hear the answer to. “So it’s not my inexperience that makes me think the sex is pretty good?”
He rears back, a scowl marring his face. “Pretty good? You call that pretty good?”
Oops. Maybe I’d misunderstood after all. Okay, well, I’ll push forward, not die of embarrassment. I shrug. “Well, I don’t have much to compare it to. I mean, I understand you’re use to much more experienced women—”
He cuts me off. “Abby, the sex is fucking unbelievable.”
