Chapter Two

At first, Lucas didn't touch her.

He enjoyed the game, not because he didn't want to—his eyes made it painfully obvious that he wanted nothing more. He allowed Sophie to bridge the last few inches between them as he stood there with his hands in his pockets. He finally moved when she did, when her flesh touched him.

Slowly and deliberately, his fingers rose, stroking the side of her jaw and then slipping into her hair. Her head arched back just enough to kiss her.

And my goodness, his kiss was firm, confident, and just the right amount of pressure—like he meant it. No resistance, no inquiry. He immediately swallowed a little gasp from her when his tongue, which had been waiting all night, touched hers.

She had a warm, thrilling taste of lime and tequila. With his mouth resting over hers, he drew back a little.

He whispered, "Since the lift, you've been making me crazy."

Her heartbeat twitched against his palms.

"You didn't seem all that disturbed."

"I'm good at hiding it." He had a cunning smile.

"However, I no longer intend to hide it.”

His hands moved down to her waist, drawing her close against him as the following kiss became more intense and demanding. Through his jeans, she could feel him—hard, and a surge of heat responded from her own body.

Lucas led her with effortless strength as they staggered back towards the couch. Before she could catch her breath, he was kneeling between her thighs, pushing the hem of her sundress up inch by inch as her back struck the pillows.

His voice was harsh and low as he said, "God, you're stunning."

His hands cradled her bare thighs as his thumbs went upward, stroking the inner parts of her thighs.

Sophie gasped for air.

"You don't slow down."

"You had the opportunity to stop me at the door."

His dark, amused gaze met hers.

"But you didn't," She only smiled in response.

Every kiss he gave was intentional, a silent countdown to the spot where she needed him most. When his mouth got to the edge of her panties—black, lace, and embarrassingly wet—he paused and took a soft breath.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” she interrupted, her voice sharper than she had anticipated.

Lucas laughed, fastening his fingers into the top hem of her panties and sliding it down her legs, kissing the inside of her ankle before throwing them aside, and then looking at her as if he were about to taste the best thing in California.

Her hips automatically raised as she gasped at the first sound of his tongue. He took his time—long, slow circles that made her toes curl and her fingers grip the couch cushions, the type that tormented more than they satisfied.

He retreated just enough to whisper, "Patience," in response to her soft moan.

As he located her clit and circled it with just enough pressure to cause her to wriggle, her laugh turned into a moan. As he alternated between sharp releases and deep, wet strokes, his hands stabilised her hips and read her reactions like a language that only he understood.

Sophie's head tilted back, and she breathed in short, desperate screams.

"Lucas.”

"That's it," he whispered . Gradually, her release grew until it was too much for her to contain.

His mouth continued to work on her until the aftereffects subsided, and she came with a loud scream, with her thighs shaking against his shoulders.

While standing up, Lucas used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth before glancing down at her with his satisfied, passionate smile.

"More pleasant than the beach?"

She laughed breathlessly.

"Arguable."

"I guess I'll have to prove it again."

Leaning down, he gave her another kiss, allowing her to taste herself on his lips. His hands were now free to move around, slipping beneath her dress and smoothly pulling it over her head as the kiss grew deeper.

Quickly, his fingers unhooked her bra with skilled ease. At some point, he just stared at her.

He whispered, "Perfect," and then he massaged her breast with his other hand while he took one nipple in his mouth and licked with the tip of his tongue across it.

Sophie gently dug her fingernails into his shoulders as she arched into him. She was forced to reach for him and cup him through his pants as the firm line of his erection pressed against her hip.

He let forth a low moan.

"Be careful," he cautioned.

"I'm barely holding out."

"Then don't," she responded.

Something got gloomy in his eyes. He pulled his shirt over his head and stood up, showing off a caramel-and-muscle-filled stomach and chest. Then he was kneeling between her legs again, wearing a condom with swift, effective motions, followed by his jeans.

With one hand resting on the couch and the other directing himself to her pussy, he squatted above her. Both of them gasped at the first slow push. He kept on thrusting his dick into my vagina without any hindrance or pulling out for a second.

He dropped his forehead to hers and growled, "Fuck."

With their nails following the muscle lines, Sophie's hands moved across his back.

"Faster," she inhaled.

He did, slow and deep thrusts at first, slow enough to make her grip him more tightly. His lips reached her neck and began to slowly suck, his breath heated on her flesh. She moaned as he quickened the pace, his hips thrusting forward in a hurry.

Skin to skin, her groans blending with his deep grunts, the sound of them filled the room. The air held the lingering smell of sweat and salt.

She let out a scream as Lucas moved, slinging one of her legs over his shoulder.

“You like it like that?”

"Yes—Yes, God."

As her nails ran down his back, her second orgasm came more quickly and sharply, taking her breath away. Lucas moaned at the sensation and pressed closer to her till he was unable to contain himself any longer.

He finally released, his body straining above hers with a last painful thrust. He paused there to gather his breath, then he pulled out and fell onto the couch next to her.

Only the slow pounding of their hearts and the sound of the ocean outside could be heard as they lay there, intertwined and motionless.

At last, with a smirk teasing his lips, Lucas turned his head in her direction. "Are you still arguing?"

Weak and fulfilled, she laughed. "Just a little, maybe."

He brushed a strand of hair away from her face and whispered, "Good." "I'll have to do better again because of that.”