Lucie & Matteo | WRU series | Book 2
I have loved and I have lost
Pain touched my skin like a shadow
Wrapped itself around my chest
And slowly nestled itself inside my heart
It's the shadow that knows best
Because I have loved and I have lost
You b...
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Reality slips away.
Time is a concept I can't comprehend anymore.
I can't think, all I do is feel. Everything.
His lips on mine. Every touch. Every nip of his teeth teasing me. Every caress, first soft then eager. Greedy.
His lips are ruthless, stealing my breath, my touch with reality, my sanity.
His hand slides in my hair and his fingers curl around my locks before he tilts my head back. My ass hits my desk and my back arches over it as his lips graze down my neck, nipping my skin and leaving wet kisses behind.
His scent engulfs me, intoxicates me until I'm delirious.
His grip on my hair tightens before he pulls me closer, leading my lips back to his.
He reigns over my body as everything I do is controlled by the desire rushing through my veins. My hands sneak under his T-shirt, up his torso, and then around it to pull him even closer. My nails dig into his skin and I'm sure that if they weren't clipped short for my job at the nursing home, they would leave a mark.
I've never done this before. I've never clung onto someone, dug my fingers into their skin as if I'm desperate for more, and yet something about his dominant demeanor brings out my deepest desires.
My hands fall to his belt, blindly unbuckling it, before I tug on the hem of his shirt. He breaks away, grabs the back of his shirt with one hand, and pulls it off with one swift movement.
For a brief second, I'm able to appreciate his torso, sculpted with lean muscles and decorated with a couple of tattoos. Then he pulls me back, kissing me hungrily and my eyes flutter closed, getting lost in the moment.
His hand falls to my lower back, pulling me closer as he pushes his thigh between my legs, and a whimper escapes when I feel his erection press against me. I feel powerful knowing I'm the reason, that I do that to him, yet simultaneously my chest fills with nerves when I think about the silent implication in the way his hips are grinding against mine. My heart is beating in overdrive, both from the realization of what is happening and the sensation he's giving me.
Son of a gun, he's a phenomenal kisser. Rough and overpowering, yet tentative, listening to the sounds that escape me. My sighs when he sucks on my bottom lip, my whimper when he tightens his grip on my hair, my breathy moan when his hand travels up my body and squeezes my breast, before rolling his thumb over my tight nipple, which is no doubt visible through the satin fabric of my dress. He listens to my body, repeating every action that results in a sound of pleasure as if he's collecting them.
He slips one strap of my dress off my shoulder, his finger following the fabric as it partly falls down my chest, uncovering one of my bare breasts.
He breaks away, glances down and when he notices I'm not wearing a bra, he whispers something I recently discovered is a Spanish curse word.
