Chapter 59: LET ME PLEASURE YOU

Olivia’s POV

Lucas kissed like a man who had been starving for this exact moment, deep, demanding, no hesitation. His tongue slid against mine, tasting me, claiming every soft sound that escaped my throat. A low, rough moan tore out of me before I could stop it. God, he was a good kisser. Better than good. The kind of kiss that made my knees weak and my thoughts scatter.

His arm locked around my waist, and he lifted me clean off the floor as if I weighed nothing. I gasped against his lips, hands fisting in his polo shirt as he carried me straight to the massive bed. The mattress dipped under our weight when he laid me down, never breaking the kiss. His body followed, heavy and solid between my thighs, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against me through our clothes.

"Lucas..." I tried, but the word dissolved into another helpless moan when his mouth dragged down my throat.

He sat back just long enough to pull his shirt over his head, revealing his broad chest and hard muscles. The faint scent of sweat and mint surrounded him, but then my eyes fell on the small tattoo.

But before I could dwell on it, his hands were under my dress, shoving the fabric up. One sharp tug and the dress was gone, tossed somewhere behind him. His green eyes swept over me—lace bra, matching panties, flushed skin—and a rough sound rumbled in his chest.

"Fuck," he breathed, voice low and raw. "You look breathtaking."

Before I could answer, he was on me again, mouth hot against the upper curve of my breast. He tugged the cup of my bra down, and the second his tongue flicked over my nipple, I arched hard, a sharp cry breaking free. He sucked the tight peak into his mouth, teeth grazing just enough to make my hips jerk. One hand cupped the other breast, thumb circling, pinching, while he switched sides and sucked harder. Every pull of his mouth sent sparks straight between my legs. I was already wet, already aching, and the wet sounds of him licking and sucking only made it worse.

"Lucas... fuck..." I moaned, fingers sliding into his hair, holding him there even as my mind screamed at me.

He released my nipple with a soft pop and looked up, lips wet, eyes dark. "You want this."

"I..." My voice cracked. "Lucian. We can’t. This is..."

"Relax." His voice was calm, steady, even while his hand slid down my stomach and hooked into the waistband of my panties. "I’m not fucking you. Not tonight." He dragged the lace down my legs and tossed it aside. "But let me pleasure you."

Cool air hit my bare pussy. I tried to close my thighs on instinct, but he pushed them open with firm hands, settling between them. For a second he just stared, nostrils flaring as he leaned in and inhaled the slick heat of me. A low, almost feral sound left him.

"Christ, you’re already dripping."

Then his mouth was on me.

The first long, slow lick from entrance to clit dragged a broken moan out of my throat. He groaned against me like the taste alone was enough to ruin him, then licked again, deeper, slower, tongue flat and thorough. My hips jerked. He pinned them down with one strong arm and kept going, licking, sucking, spreading me open with his thumbs so he could drag his tongue through every sensitive fold. When he sealed his mouth over my clit and sucked hard, I cried out, thighs trembling around his head.

"Lucas... oh fuck..."

He didn’t stop. He licked me like he had all night and nowhere else to be, alternating between long, filthy strokes and tight, focused suction on my clit. Two fingers slid into me without warning, curling, stroking that spot that made my vision blur. The wet sounds of his mouth and the slick glide of his fingers filled the quiet room. I was moaning constantly now, raw and shameless, one hand twisted in the sheets, the other still buried in his hair.

He lifted his head just enough to speak, lips shiny, voice rough. "That’s it. Let me hear you." Then he went back down and sucked harder, fingers pumping deeper.

The orgasm hit like a wave. My back arched off the bed, a broken, high cry tearing from my throat as I came on his tongue. He kept licking through it, slower now, drawing every last tremor out of me until I was shaking and gasping his name.

Only then did he ease back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes locked on mine.

"You taste good," he remarked quietly.

I was breathing hard, thighs still open, body humming.

Lucas dropped onto the bed beside me, chest rising and falling in deep, unsteady pants. His eyes closed, jaw tight, like he was fighting hard to keep control. My gaze drifted down. The thick outline of his cock strained against the front of his jeans, hard and obvious. He was still fully dressed from the waist down, and the sight of him holding himself back made something hot and restless twist low in my stomach.

I knew I had to help. I had never done this before, not really, but I could try.

I shifted onto my knees on the mattress and reached for the button of his jeans. His eyes opened at once. Strong hands caught both of mine, stilling them.

"You don’t have to," he said, voice rough.

"I want to."

He stared at me for a long second, then slowly let go. I unzipped him carefully and pushed the fabric down just enough to free his cock. It sprang heavy and thick into my hand, the skin hot and smooth, the tip already glistening. My fingers looked small wrapped around him.

Lucas’s breath hitched.

"Do you even know how to?" he asked, a faint edge of amusement under the strain.

"No," I admitted, cheeks burning.

A small smile curved his mouth. He covered my hand with his own, guiding my fingers into a firmer grip, showing me how to stroke him from base to tip with slow, steady pressure. His hips shifted once, a low sound leaving his throat as he taught me the rhythm he wanted.