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“Yeah.”
“You sounded almost disappointed,” I said between kisses as my hands roamed her body, arcing over her shoulders, down her back, cupping her beautiful taut ass, and caressing and patting and kneading, then back up her spine. Liv was straddling me, just above my cock, her core slick and grinding on my stomach, her hands in my hair and scraping down my cheeks as she devoured my mouth, greedily taking my kisses and demanding more with her tongue and quiet breathless moans.
“I’ve come to like the way you talk. It’s refreshing and different. A little vulgar sometimes but, strangely, I like that too.”
“So…” I reached between her thighs and found her wet and waiting, her pussy tight around my fingers and her moans eager as I explored her again. “If I told you instead that I wanna fuck you…”
She gasped, tightening around my fingers as I circled her clit and then delved inside her. “Yeah?”
“You’d like that?”
“Yes, Lucas.” She reached back and grasped me, stroking me to the same rhythm that I circled her clit. “I want you to make love to me. I want you to fuck me. I want all of it. Right now. Please, right now.”
“God, Liv—you got no fuckin’ idea what it does to me when you swear.”
She pressed her lips to my ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever said anything like that before. I’m not someone who swears or talks dirty.”
“I like it. A lot.”
“You do, huh?” She bent over me, tilting her core away, lifting up, and slid down my body so my cock was nestled just inside her slit. “You like it when I swear?”
“A fuckin’ lot.”
“So if I told you I’ve had wet dreams, naughty dreams about this…about you fucking me…”
I groaned, flexing to get deeper. “Fuck, Liv. You’re too much.”
She writhed on me. “I almost don’t recognize myself right now.”
“It’s beautiful, Liv.”
“Does it make me…tawdry?”
I laughed, cupping her breast with one hand and palming her ass with the other. “No clue what the fuck that means, babe.”
“Cheap. Slutty.”
I caressed her cheek, locking eyes with her, stopping everything. “Olivia—no. It makes you a woman who knows what she wants and ain’t afraid to take it, to be bold about what she wants. That there is a hell of a beautiful thing.”
Her eyes searched mine, wavering. “You really think so?”
“Down to the depths of my soul, babe. Don’t hold back. Don’t be shy. I wanna know what you want so I can do everything I can to give it to you.” I kissed her. “This is you and me, Liv. Just us. We’re creatin’ something new between us, and there’s no rules but what we make.”
She blinked back tears, then let them fall, and I reached up to wipe them away. “I really like that idea, Lucas.” She moved, and I was still almost but not quite inside her. “I want…”
“Tell me.”
She bit her lip, touched her forehead to mine, swallowing loudly, speaking in a hoarse whisper. “Make love to me. Fuck me. Show me how amazing it can be.”
“I…” A realization shot through me. “We ain’t wearing’ no protection…or, I ain’t. And I don’t have any. I honestly wasn’t sure this would ever happen, barely dared to dream of it. Goin’ out and buyin’ condoms seemed a bit presumptuous.”
“Have you been with anyone recently?”
I shook my head. “Naw. Not in years. And I used protection then, and every time before that.”
“I can’t have any more children, Lucas. I can’t get pregnant.” She nuzzled her cheek against mine. “I…had a scare, about six years ago. I was turning forty, and got cramps that wouldn’t go away, heavy bleeding…sorry, not exactly sexy talk. But the point is, I had to get a hysterectomy. So…we don’t need protection, as long as you’re clean.”
“I am. Got checked actually, as part of a recent checkup at the doctor. I have the results somewhere, if you want to see them.”
She shook her head. “No, I believe you.” A brief pause. “I trust you.”
“So we don’t need nothin’?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. Nothing between us.”
I groaned. “I’ve never…done that. Bare, nothin’.”
“No?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Never.”
“There’s nothing like it.” Another hesitation, and I could see something in her eyes.
“There’s somethin’ else, ain’t there?” I asked.
She nodded, suddenly shy. “I want…I want to be underneath you.”
I rolled, and she went with me, twisting to her back and welcoming me on top of her, caressing my shoulders and spine with her hands, tracing down to my ass, and then between my thighs, clutching my cock in her small, eager hands. I slid my finger down her seam, found her clit, and she gasped, guiding me to her opening.
She hesitated, then. “Lucas?”
“Hmm?” I asked, touching her and kissing her at the same time, eager to taste her, more eager still to finally bury myself inside her.
“You don’t need to say it, or say it back.”
I knew exactly what she meant. But I wasn’t accepting it. “Liv, honey. If I say it, it’ll be because I mean it. And you best know this, too, babe—I ain’t ever said those words to a woman. Barely even said ’em to my kids. But I’ll say ’em to you, and I’ll mean it more’n I ever meant anything in my entire fuckin’ life.”
“You’ve never told a woman you love her?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Never heard it back either.”
She seemed on the verge of tears again, then sniffed, laughing. “I can’t wait to say it to you, then.”
I nuzzled her cheek, and then flexed my hips, aching to be inside her. “Liv…I need you. I can’t wait any longer.”
She bit her lip, stroking my cock in a way that seemed nervous. Her eyes watered. “I’m scared.”
“We can wait.”
She shook her head. “Not like you’re thinking.” She swallowed hard. “I’m not scared of you, of being with you. It’s been so long—and I’m…I’m scared of disappointing you. Not being good enough. I’m scared there was something about me that made Darren not want me.”
“Impossible.” I bent and kissed her lips, and then her chest, and then her breasts. “There ain’t a goddamn thing you could do to disappoint me, not even if you told me you need to wait.”
“I don’t want to wait. I’m dying to have you inside me. I’m going crazy for it. But I’m just so scared—that I’ve built it up in my mind, that I won’t be good, that something will go wrong…”
I kissed her to shut her up, and then licked a nipple until she gasped. “You’re overthinking it. You’re getting stuck in your head.”
“Yes.”
I met her eyes. Flexed my hips. “Be with me, Liv. Be here with me, now. Don’t think—feel. Just feel.” I palmed her breast, caressed it. “How’s that feel?”
“So good,” she breathed, closing her eyes. “I love how rough and strong your hand is.”
I took her breast in my mouth and traced her sex, circling her hardening clit with a fingertip. “How about that? How does that feel?”
“Ohhh, oh god, so good. Like lightning striking me, like…like I’m on fire, but it just makes me want more.”
I slid my finger inside her. Curled, withdrew, added a second, teasing the motion of sex with my fingers—in and out, in and out, curling through her slick, dripping pussy until she was writhing, and then using her own essence to wet her clit and flick it and circle.
“How does that feel, Liv?”
She reached for me, found my cock and brought it to her slit, pushed my hand away and slipped me inside her. With a moan, she flicked open her eyes and fixed them on mine; her brown-green-hazel eyes were wide and shimmering, and she whimpered.
“It feels like I need this,” she whispered.
16
Liv
Lucas Badd was b
uried deep inside me, and he fit as if he was made to be there. Stretching me to a beautiful ache, making me dizzy with the rapturous perfection of being filled to bursting. I couldn’t breathe for how incredible he felt, how wonderful his cock felt inside me, how much I loved being wrapped around him, being beneath him, letting myself get lost in him.
I cried out as he pushed deep, gasped as he pulled back; wrapping my legs around his buttocks, I clutched his neck with two trembling hands and bit his shoulder as he began to move. Sliding slowly, grinding, gliding, not rushed at all, unhurried—but I could see the desperation in his eyes, the wild frantic need in his gaze. I could feel how intense this was for him, and the way he shook all over as he drew out his movements into slow, deliberate gyrations made me quaver with excitement, with renewed furious passion. I clawed at him, flexed my hips, needing more of him, even though he was already fully seated in me and was making love to me with an aching rhythm, I needed more.
I felt his tears on my face, mixed with my own—and he was groaning, gasping breathlessly.
“Liv…god, Liv. Olivia…” he whispered, his lips on my cheek, his breath on my ear.
“Lucas,” I groaned back, driving against him frantically.
I shook all over, trembling uncontrollably, panting in a breathless endless whine of ecstasy and wonder as we moved in perfect unison, meeting each other thrust for thrust, gasp for gasp. One of his fists was planted in the mattress beside my face, the other was clutching at my breasts and squeezing and caressing my face and tugging at my hip to bring me closer, getting himself deeper, joining us more tightly. My legs were around his waist, my ankles hooked together around his ass, my fingernails clawing roughly down his spine and grasping at his neck.
“Oh, god—Lucas!” I whimpered, my lungs unable to draw breath, a climax searing through me, shaking me in the grip of a spasming, wrenching orgasm which I had no choice but to scream through, burying my face in his neck and screaming and screaming until I went hoarse as my entire body was consumed by fury and flames…
And then I felt Lucas’s thrusts go wild, losing the rhythm, the studied pace. His groans became gasped grunts and mad curses. The feeling of Lucas reaching climax was almost as potent as my own orgasm—my core was clamping and pulsating around him as he powered into me again and again, harder and harder, faster and faster.
“Liv, oh fuck, Olivia, god you feel…ohhh fuck—you feel perfect, you feel like fuckin’ heaven—you feel like home, baby, oh god…”
“I love this, Lucas, I love the way you feel inside me,” I whispered into his ear, my voice a hoarse rasp from my screams. “I love this, I love this—”
He was thrusting with total abandon, and I felt each one in every molecule of my body, and I pulsed around his cock, squeezing the muscles of my sex as hard as I could and writhing with him as he gave into his release.
In the moment of his orgasm, he rested his forehead against mine, his lips quaking against my mouth, and I felt him let loose, coming inside me with a shout, and then he whispered, “Olivia, holy fuck, Olivia—I love you…”
Tears trickled down my face as I saw in his eyes and on his face and in the crazed shaking vulnerability in every line of his body how deeply he meant those words—and they meant all the more to me knowing that he’d never spoken them to a woman before, and that he didn’t just say so in the heat of orgasm.
I cupped his stubble-roughened cheek and pressed a thousand tiny kisses to his lips, my other hand clawed into the meat of his tensed buttocks, pulling him against me with each of his stuttering thrusts. “Lucas, ohh…my…Lucas…”
I wasn’t sure if I meant that as oh my, Lucas or ohhh, my Lucas; both perhaps.
He filled me, wet warmth spreading into me and leaking out as he continued to release, groaning my name in a chant, now—Liv, Liv, Liv, god, Liv.
“Yes, Lucas—don’t stop, don’t stop,” I whispered, shaking all over anew, his wild thrusts reaching a place inside me I didn’t know existed, his angle rubbing against my hypersensitive clit, bringing me to climax with him, a second one hard on the heels of the first, synched with his seemingly endless orgasm—a second climax for me, something I’d never felt in my life.
And this one was…shattering.
I couldn’t even scream at first, was too hoarse from the first, and then I was panting in his ear and chanting something—what was I saying? I wasn’t in control of my voice, or body or anything. I’d totally surrendered to this, to him, to what I was feeling with him.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” I heard myself gasping. “Lucas, Lucas—ohhh, I love this and I love you, don’t stop—don’t stop, oh god, you feel so fucking incredible!”
He groaned one last time, trembling spasmodically inside me, thrusting once more, and then collapsing partially on top of me, panting breathlessly.
For several long minutes, he rested his heavy head on my breasts, our ragged breathing synched, my fingers tracing lazy circles over his shoulders, scalp, neck, spine, and butt.
“I meant it, Olivia,” he rumbled, his voice rough and deep. “Wasn’t just…something I said in the moment. I meant it. I love you.”
I circled my arms around him, held him tight. “I meant it too, Lucas.” I touched my lips to his ear. “I love you—I’m in love with you. It scares me, but it’s real. It’s true.”
He lifted up to gaze down at me, then rolled onto his back and cradled my head against his chest, his arms around me, breathing deeply, raggedly. “Most amazing thing I’ve ever heard in my life, Liv.” He laughed quietly. “Except maybe the way you sound when you come.”
I buried my face in his chest to hide my blush. “Lucas…”
He touched my chin, lifted my face to look at him. “Don’t hide it, Liv. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. What we did together was beautiful. Nothing to be shy about.”
“I’ve never…screamed like that, or sounded like that. Said those things.” I inhaled sharply. “I never thought I’d love again.”
“God, me either, honey.” He sighed. “Except, now that I know what it’s like to love you and be loved back, I don’t think what Lena and I had was love. Not even close. This—” he squeezed me close, and I gasped a laugh at the sudden fierce strength of his embrace, “this is real. You’re real.”
“I am real, Lucas.” I gazed up at him. “I’m here, and I’m real.” I giggled. “And really, really messy.”
Lucas rumbled a laugh and scooted out of his bed, went to the bathroom and returned with a washcloth. He cleaned me so gently it was almost ineffective, but it was done with such love and tenderness that I let him, and then I took the washcloth from him and made sure I was cleaned more thoroughly.
Naked and sated—for the moment, at least—I rested in his arms and luxuriated in the silence and warmth of his embrace, in the basking perfection of afterglow.
I felt a peace and a happiness so deep and so thorough, I knew I’d never want to leave, and that I would be here—in Lucas’s strong arms, naked and gloriously well loved, breathing his scent and feeling him all around me, and happier than I had ever imagined possible—every day for the rest of my life.
THE END
Epilogue
Cassie
When I woke up the next morning, Mom was gone. Not in her bed, phone on the charger, purse on the kitchen counter. I had a feeling I knew where she was, and I honestly felt happy for her. Lucas seemed like a genuinely nice guy, albeit a little rough around the edges. But I could tell he cared for Mom, and that she felt the same way about him; and that was all that mattered. Mom had been through a lot, and had been alone for a long time, and she deserved some happiness.
God knows things with Dad had been a little…off, the last few years of his life, and the last few months especially. It stung me to admit it, but Dad had kind of…stopped trying. With us girls, and with Mom, especially. He worked a lot, leaving early and coming home late, and when he was around, he seemed…apathetic. Mom had pretended to be fine, but I’d s
een the reality under the surface; she had been unhappy. She loved Dad, and would never have admitted anything different, and obviously would never have left him or anything. But she’d just been unhappy. When he died, I think there had been a sense of relief buried way down deep under the grief, and Mom had felt guilty about that, deeply, horribly guilty. I honestly don’t think even now, with this Lucas Badd in the picture, that she’d ever admit to feeling relieved Dad had died.
God knows she missed him, we all did, and we would never have wanted him to die, but he’d stopped trying. It was as if he didn’t care about anything anymore, especially himself. And it had taken a toll on all of us.
I know Dad’s behavior had led Charlie to move out, and to quickly develop a relationship with the smarmy lawyer-politician or whatever he was, whom I’d never liked. To me, it seemed like she had rebounded from Dad to the first available guy.
Dad made things difficult at home and it led me to come up with ever-increasing excuses to stay on overseas tours—to stay away, because I couldn’t handle the way things had become at home.
Dad’s apathy had certainly lit the fire of vehement liberal feminism and social justice crusading inside of Lexie—along with, weirdly, an absurdly high-rev sex drive, which she sated with a revolving door of loser guys…reversing the role of the player where she was the player, the sexually liberated female who just used guys for what they could give her in bed.
Torie…was Torie. But if Dad’s gradual slide into not seeming to care about us girls, or his wife, had done anything to Torie, it was to make her use pot to escape—which had, in turn, made her content to just drift through life without a passion. This worried me—it worried all of us—because she really did have a lot of talents, things she could do and do amazingly well if she were to care enough to try.
Poppy seemed the least affected of all of us, somehow. Perhaps because she’d lived most of her life with Dad when he was on the downward slide of ill health and lackluster fatherhood, so she had just accepted it as a way of life. But, according to Mom, right now Poppy was in a crisis over quitting school—which was crazy to me, seeing as she’d gotten such a huge ride to a prestigious university. She was insanely talented, but you couldn’t always bank on talent alone.