Page 42 of Secret (Chicago Underground 6)
He wasn’t just pushing into me but pulling me back onto his body. His hands scrabbled for a better grip, as if he could get closer, as if he could pull me inside him and merge with me through the denim.
His groan was low and tortured and selfish—a man desperate for his release. Like every other time, I was a sex object being used purely for my partner’s gratification. But this was different, because I was hot instead of cold, slick with arousal instead of slippery with lube. I was with Luke.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he panted.
I smiled.
His movements grew jerky. I knew he was close, but I didn’t want it to end. I wanted to go with him.
“Wait,” I said, turning slightly. “Can you… Can we…?”
If I had seen his face first, I wouldn’t have stopped him. It was all hollows and tension, want and arousal. It looked like pain and felt like it too in the brusque way he turned me onto my back, in the grip as he spread my thighs.
“Your leg,” he ground out.
“Fine,” I gasped. I had no fucking idea, though. I couldn’t feel anything but the ache in my cunt and the abrasive rasp of his denim and then the hard, painful press of his length against my clit. His body sank down onto mine. Without break, without reprieve, he began a hard-and-fast rhythm of bringing himself off, dragging me along. I reveled in his roughness, such a stark contrast to the gentleness he usually showed me—it was need. And it was trust, for now I understood that it was as hard for him to believe in the intimacy between us as it had been for me. My body sparked with a heightened arousal, but my heart warmed with tenderness.
“God, Luke. God.”
“I know,” he said. “Oh shit.”
I kissed his temple.
His body tensed over me, against me, and I knew he was coming. I wouldn’t make it, there wasn’t time, but it was okay. And then his mouth sought out my nipple, sucking and—oh God—biting. It was too much, too hard and fast, too hungry and desperate and too damn close, and my body launched into another orgasm, my hips strained against his, and he forced them down, riding his release in the cradle of my body.
We curled up together afterward, catching our breath.
I rested my chin on his shoulder. “Hey.”
“I’m a mess,” he said, amused.
Glancing at the dark spot on his crotch, I suppressed a smile. “Was that second or third base?”
“I have no idea. But I’m pretty sure this means you’re officially my girlfriend.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.” He grew quizzical. “You know I want more than that, right? In the future. That’s where we’re heading.”
I looked down where my finger drew figure eights on his chest. “I know. I want that too. But I kind of like this high school stuff.” I felt a blush heat my cheeks. “I didn’t get to have that.”
He lifted my chin and kissed my nose. “Me neither. And I like it too.”
After a few minutes, he checked on my leg, but the wound hadn’t opened. It was a little sore from rubbing against the sheet when I was in the throes of climax, but so was my entire body. A session like that was draining, and I would have been more than happy to take that rest Luke had badgered me about, but I was restless. I opened the window. Fresh air wafted in, rich with the scent of twilight. We wouldn’t be able to do this back in the city.
Luke groaned from the bed. “Why are you vertical?”
I swallowed. “You want to go back.”
He was silent a moment; then he came to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around me. He spoke in a low tone. “I do. But I’m happy here too.”
I shifted in his arms, turned my face into the soft hair of his chest. “What would you do here?”
“I’d find something.” His shoulder shrugged beneath me. “I’m sure they need cops out here too. It would probably be less stressful.”
I snorted. “Less stressful because you’d be handing out traffic tickets.”
“I wouldn’t mind, Shelly. Whatever we have to do, wherever you need me to be.”
