Raging Heart On (Lucas Brothers #2)

“God, yes.”


“Damn it. Every time I’m with you, I think I will get used to how you taste and react, but it never fails to surprise me,” he groans, sucking as much of my breast as he can into his mouth. I hold onto him as he plays, sucking the nipple, biting on my breast and making me feel like I could come at any minute.

“Is that a bad thing?” I gasp as he bites hard into the tender globe of my breast. There will be teeth marks and bruises there. I’ve had them every morning since we’ve been sleeping with each other, and I love them. I wake up to inspect my body, only feeling relief and happiness when I find proof of White’s ownership. I belong to him. His marks make me believe that’s what he wants as much as I do.

“It’s not enough. This isn’t going to work,” he growls, letting go of my breast. He pushes the magazines onto the floor in a pile of glossy tits and ass on pages that look well-worn. I try not to think of that particular aspect and instead focus on the fact that White wanted me over the magazines. Silly? Probably, but I don’t care. It feels like a victory all the same—at least until I listen to his words.

“White?”

He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he is shaking his head. “Not enough room there,” he grumbles, looking at the table he knocked the magazines off of.

“What are you talking about?”

He doesn’t answer, he’s so deep in thought that I’m not sure he hears me. Then he looks at the little computer nook and smiles. Before I can question him, he lifts me up.

“White! Put me down! I’m too heavy!” I cry, holding onto his shoulders as he sets me on the computer desk. It’s not exactly comfortable. There’s a keyboard pressing into my thigh. I look at him like he’s insane. It should be a look he is familiar with these days. “What are you doing??”

“Spanking your ass if you don’t quit insinuating you’re fat. I told you, I fucking love your body.”

“White—Oh my God! What are you doing now?” I literally screech as he reaches under my skirt and yanks off my panties, pushing them down to the floor. I watch them fall and wince because they look really big there. Did I really wear granny-panties today only to have sex in a doctor’s exam area? Maybe White won’t notice…

“What the hell are these things?” he growls, and I look to find him staring at my panties too.

“They’re underwear,” I tell him with heated cheeks.

“No, they aren’t.”

“Yes, they are. They’re the proper kind you wear to a doctor’s office, or when you’re going on a long trip.”

“A long trip?”

“Yeah. In case you get in a car accident. You don’t want the paramedics to find you not wearing any and you’d rather not have them look at your sexy panties and think you’re a whore, so you wear…”

“Granny panties.”

“They’re not granny panties,” I defend, lying through my teeth.

“You’re wound up entirely too tight, Buttercup. Damn, if I’m not going to have fun unwinding you…”

“Unwinding me? You mean by convincing me to have sex in a doctor’s office with people right outside the door?”

“Among other things. But if it makes you feel better, this won’t last long, and then you can pull your skirt down and be a proper lady—at least ‘til I get you home.”

“What won’t last long?” I ask him, but I really shouldn’t have because the minute I feel his fingers push inside of me, I know exactly what he’s talking about.

“God, you’re so wet and ready,” he groans. Hell, maybe I’m the one groaning as his fingers plunge inside, scissor apart and stretch me, before receding, only to plunge right back in. It just takes two or three strokes like this before I hear his fingers push in against the sticky wetness of my pussy. His fingers are big and wide and when he pulls them apart, it feels full, but it’s nowhere near to the sensation I get when his dick is inside of me, and right now that’s what I’m craving above all things—even though I know I can’t have it.

“White, make me come,” I whisper as he pushes his fingers back inside, this time adding his thumb to my clit, pushing against it while stroking it at the same time.

“I plan on it, honey. All over my cock.”

“But you can’t! You have to save it to—”

“I’ll pull out in time to capture enough for the doctor,” he tells me, and I want to argue. I want to tell him that the lab might pick up traces of my cream and it might cause his tests to be wrong. All thought stops though the minute he pulls me to the edge of the little desk, and then pushes inside of me with his hard cock.





CHAPTER 45


WHITE