Things We Left Behind (Knockemout, #3)

“Good,” I muttered, kicking off my boots. One landed under the dining room table; the other made it to the kitchen.

He grabbed me and kissed me until I couldn’t think straight. The hot, hard pressure of his mouth, the dominating strokes of his tongue. I felt cool air and realized he’d stripped my skirt right off. My sweater came next, leaving me in nothing but thigh-highs, my bra, and my soaking wet underwear.

Lucian’s gaze heated as he took a moment to sweep my body. “How am I supposed to not touch you when this is how you look?”

“Nothing’s stopping you now,” I said.

He opened his belt and I started to lose my mind. The zing of leather as he whipped it free made me tingle from head to toe.

He slid his thumbs in his slacks. I paid no attention to them as they pooled at his feet. I couldn’t drag my eyes away from the black briefs that were failing to contain his cock.

I definitely lost my mind because instead of sexily unbuttoning his shirt, I yanked with both hands and sent buttons flying in every direction.

His smile was wicked. Evil. Like I’d just done something that had earned a punishment. I couldn’t wait to find out what it was.

“I hope you don’t expect me to pay for that,” I told him.

“I can think of a few things I want besides money.”

He hauled me against him and boosted me up with one hand on my ass. I wrapped my legs around his waist and plastered myself against him. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest.

We were moving. He was carrying me somewhere. I didn’t care where as long as he stopped long enough to put that monumental dick inside me.

My back met drywall. He pinned me against the wall with his hips and opened the front closure of my bra with one deft flick. His growl made my blood simmer in my veins. I lived for that sound of approval. My nipples were hard, straining toward him like flowers following the sun.

He dipped his head and fastened his mouth over one lucky nipple.

“Gah!” I said as he applied the perfect amount of suction, drawing the pink nub deeper into his mouth.

I bucked against him, dangerously close to coming already.

I could feel the bare, wet head of his penis as it prodded my thigh.

He lavished my breast with attention until the ecstasy had my head thunking against the wall.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice rough and ragged.

“Yes,” I breathed.

He moved on to the other breast, the other jealous nipple.

They felt so full and heavy. Every suck released a letdown of pure pleasure.

“Goddammit,” he murmured, lips moving against my breast.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, hissing as his chest hair teased my wet nipples.

“Every time, I think I’ll take my time. That I’ll spend an hour just on your perfect fucking breasts. I fucking lose it,” he said.

“Wha—”

I didn’t get any further than that. Because he plucked me off the wall and turned us.

I found myself on my knees, facedown on the upholstered ottoman in his living room. My ass was in the air, my face pressed into the blue linen.

Lucian hovered behind me, his erection nestled between my legs. I wanted him so damn much I was prepared to beg.

“You baited me at the bar,” he accused, coasting a hand gently over the flowered silk of my underwear.

“How?” I asked, ready to lie.

“That sweater and little fucking skirt. Your fingers brushing my dick when it was already rock-hard for you. Those sexy little glances while you played with your straw. I should teach you a lesson.”

His fingers curling in my panties, the drag of damp silk against my thighs was an exquisite kind of torture.

“As long as your lesson involves you fucking me, I’m all for it,” I said breathlessly.

His hand resumed its gentle strokes over the slopes of my rear end. I peeked between my legs and watched his penis slide back and forth through my folds.

“I hate not being able to touch what’s mine,” he confessed.

I was about to point out that our arrangement definitely did not allow for “mine” talk outside bed. But the hot head of his erection branded me with every brush against my sex. I struggled against him, sliding my knees wider, begging with my body.

“Please, Lucian,” I whispered.

“I don’t have a condom on yet,” he reminded me.

His tone sounded…different. Like there was something he wanted to ask for. Was it something I wanted too?

“I hit the gynecologist last month. All my tests were clear,” I said. Then winced. “But I’m not on birth control.”

“Vasectomy,” he reminded me. “And I was tested six months ago.”

His hands were still caressing my hips, the crown of his dick still nestled against my sex as if waiting for an invitation. My heart hammered in my chest.

He’d probably fucked his way through an entire professional cheerleading squad since then.

“I haven’t been with anyone since,” he added.

“Seriously?” No wonder he was so…explosive.

“Shut up.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay?” he repeated, prompting me for more.

“Put your bare cock in me and make me come, Lucian.” I couldn’t make it any more clear than that.

He tensed against me, and I wished I could see his face. But I forgot all about it as the broad crown notched into place. Yes! There! I shifted back against him, hoping he’d let me take him. But he stilled my hips with his hands.

“It’s my turn to play, Pixie.”

I’d never been so excited to be threatened before in my life.

“Then hurry up and get started,” I groaned. “Please.”

“Good girl,” he purred. And then he gripped my hips and thrust himself home.

He felt hot and hard and smooth inside me.

My body tensed at the invasion. I was beyond wet, beyond ready, but he was so big and the angle was so deep it was still a shock. My head came up.

Lucian’s palm landed with a stinging slap on my rear end.

I let out a yelp as a pleasant heat bloomed across my ass cheek.

“Hold still,” he ordered through clenched teeth.

I let him guide me back down, feeling the length of him as it pulsed inside me. He stroked the sting away.

“You need to relax for me, baby. Relax so I can get all the way in.”

My inner walls were quivering in anticipation of a muscle-pulling orgasm.

“Come on, Pixie. Breathe for me.”

I wanted to do as he asked. I wanted to please him. Because then he’d please the hell out of me. I sucked in a weak breath and then forced it out like a teakettle.

He glided one hand from my neck all the way down my spine. “Good girl. Do it again.”

This time, it was a real breath, and I felt my muscles relax a millimeter. Apparently so did he, because Lucian was withdrawing slowly and then thrusting in. Hard.

I took him all. I knew it even before his shout of triumph.

I was possessed by Lucian Rollins.

“I can feel you in my organs,” I groaned.

He responded with a short, hard upthrust that had me moaning.

So full. So gloriously full I didn’t remember what it felt like to be empty.

“You look so good taking my cock, Pix,” he murmured, sliding his hands up my back and then around so he could massage my breasts as they hung heavily off the ottoman.

“Yeah, well, you feel pretty okay in there,” I squeaked.

He gave my nipples a hard tweak that had my inner muscles clamping down on him. I could feel the dizzying pulse of blood in his shaft. With nothing between us finally, I reveled in the scorching heat of his body as it entered mine.

I was at his mercy and we both knew it.

And that was the realization that set me off. He was sheathed in me to the hilt, filling me in a way I’d never been filled before. The tension spiraled higher and higher, and all it took was a subtle widening of my knees and I was coming. I cried out as it rolled through me like a thunderstorm. Lucian held deep as it broke inside me in a spectacular thunderclap release.

His growl was feral as I milked his cock from the inside.