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Saturday, April 25, 2015

Completed: Chapter 20

Completed: a Devoured novella
Chapter 20

“Later?” I repeat teasingly when Lucas moves away from his spot between my legs. I grin up at him, feeling my heart race when he returns the expression. He touches the button of my jeans, undoing it. Then he yanks down the zipper in a quick, fluid motion. I shiver, the intense ripples dancing through my body and affecting the words I say next, “Later tonight or later—”

Much later,” he interrupts. He drags my jeans—and panties—down my hips, jerks them past my feet, and discards them in a heap beside the couch. Bending, he kisses the inside of my left thigh. “Right now…” He moves his lips to my right thigh. “I’m going to fuck you.”

I gasp when his lips move higher up my leg. “You get right to the point, don’t you?”
Nodding, he circles his tongue over the pale skin a mere few inches from my sex. “And here I was thinking we’d have a sweet night of lovemaking.”

He laughs, and my stomach flutters as his breath warms the sensitive flesh between my legs. Automatically, I clench my core, anticipating, wanting and needing him. “We’ve gone over this before, Sienna. We’ll save that for later, but I need you now.”

He kisses my clit, causing me to grasp the linen material of our couch with one hand and a handful of his shaggy dark hair with the other. His lips move over the throbbing nub softly—almost as if he’s forgotten his own promise from a few seconds ago.

“I could write songs about you all day,” he muses between kisses.

“You’re going to make your band hate me,” I manage to argue, even as the sweet pressure builds in my core. “If all of your songs are about me and my—” He muffles my last few words with a few expert strokes of his tongue. Lucas Wolfe and his mouth are going to be the death of me.

Giving my center one last kiss, Lucas stands up straight. He stares down at me trembling and breathing heavily on the couch. “I don’t give a fuck how they feel, Red, but hate is the last thing any of them would say when it comes to you.” He shakes his head sternly. “No more about the band or your mother. I won’t bring those motherfuckers or crazy ass Rebecca into our bed.”

“Couch,” I remind him. “Technically, we’d be bringing them to our couch.” And I felt all sorts of dirty knowing that we’d eventually entertain guests in this very room.

He shrugs his broad shoulders. “Bed, couch—I can still find a way to tie you up to either.” When I open my mouth, he shakes his head. “And spank that perfect ass on either.”

“Promises, promises,” I laugh, but before I can utter another syllable, he pulls me up from the couch and turns me facing away from him. Cupping my breast through my shirt with one hand, he slaps my ass—once, then twice—with his free hand, drawing a moan brimming with pleasure and pain from the back of my throat. “Ouch,” I pant, and he chuckles.

“Ouch? Next time make it a little more believable because, right now, you sound like you’ll come all over the fucking place as soon as I touch you.” He curves my body to his, so that I can feel his erection through his jeans against my ass. Holy hell. “I keep my promises,” he says directly in my ear. I swallow hard and twist my head to look him in his hazel eyes. “And the way you’re breathing, the way you’re looking at me—” He flicks his tongue over the center of my lips, squeezes my hip, and releases my breast. “Just makes me want to keep them quicker.”

Speechless, I return to the couch and watch as he strips his tee shirt and jeans from his toned, tattooed body. I’ve always been too chicken shit to get a tattoo of my own, but damn, staring at the intricate ink on his tan skin makes the heat between my legs intensify.  I follow the star tattoos down to his cock, and my face goes up in flames. When he catches me staring at him, he faces me directly, grinning broadly.

“Did you just lick your lips?”

“No,” I lie. He climbs onto the couch, positioning himself back between my thighs. He slides his hand between us and I suck in a deep breath as he slides a finger back and forth over my sex, each time coming close to my clit but not quite there. When I see his cocky grin and realize that he’s purposely teasing me, I grit my teeth. “You arrogant shit, of course I licked my lips and—”

I quickly forget what I was about to say next because he pulls a move that’s pure magic—his thumb finds my clit, his erection nudges past the opening of my sex, and that beautiful, talented mouth of his closes around my nipple. I buck my hips. He responds by driving into my body harder. Faster.

I lose myself in him. Feel every nerve ending of my body sing for Lucas. And when I’m seconds away from completely letting go, and I’m telling him how much I love him over and over, I feel his mouth centimeters from mine. “I fucking love you too, Sienna.”


Just as he promised, the sweet, unhurried lovemaking does come later. And after we’re done and I’m spooned against him in our actual bed, he keeps his other promise. He brings up my mother.

“How much did she ask you for?” I question, and I feel him let out a breath against the nape of my neck.


“Hundred?” I ask hopefully, even though that’s still a ridiculous amount of money.

He laughs. “Thousand, Red,” he says and I cringe. Holy shit. What the hell is wrong with my mom? Turning my head to look at him, I shake my head, and take a few seconds to catch my breath and let the shame roll through me.

“I’m so sorry. And embarrassed. And—” I pull in a shuddering breath, and he feathers his thumb over my cheek.

“You shouldn’t be,” he says. “And no offense, but fuck her.”

I force a laugh. “Did you tell her that?”

“I did.”

“And she didn’t try to burn your eyes out with a cigarette?”

He kisses me between the shoulder blades, and I automatically arch them together. “She gave me a long-winded spiel about ruining my career, then threw in some more pleading. I told her to fuck off again and to have a good time when she tried to shit on my career. My attorneys will eat her ass alive.”

I lift my eyebrow. “And you think that’ll work on her.”

He moves his lips to my neck, and my pulse races when his hand finds my hip. Sure enough, he rolls me over, pulling me on top of him. The last thing he says about my mother before laying claim to my body again is, “She doesn’t have a choice.”

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