I pull myself up on my knees as he drags his shirt completely over his head. He faces me—gorgeous and inked, with his dark, s.h.a.ggy hair falling over his eyes.
“I want you to put your hands all over me,” he says.
I rake my teeth over my bottom lip, leaning forward until my mouth hovers a couple centimeters from his skin. He shudders when I slide my lips across the tattoo of a heart full of daggers in the center of his toned chest, though I’m not too sure if this is because of my touch or because of his phone, which continues to vibrate.
I want to break the d.a.m.n thing into a million pieces.
Lucas simply pretends like he can’t hear it.
“Take off your dress, Sienna.”
“Already?” I say teasingly, but I’m probably more anxious to get undressed than he is to see me naked. I want this. I want him. If I hesitate now, I’ll end up leaving, full of regret. My hand automatically reaches behind me, grasping at my zipper. The black fabric falls down to pool around my knees. Carefully, so I won’t snag the dress on my shoes, I slide it off of me and drop it beside the bed.
“You’re gorgeous,” Lucas murmurs appreciatively. He holds me away from him by my shoulders, studying everything from my face, to the plain black strapless bra, and the black panties I’m wearing, making me feel as if I’m already completely naked.
Before I can lose my nerve, I hook my fingers under the waistband of his jeans. “I want to touch you again.”
He shakes his head, and I sit on my bottom, my legs on either side of his body. “Do you remember what I said before?” he asks, inching closer.
I slide myself backwards until my back b.u.mps against the posts of the headboard. “You’ve said a lot,” I point out.
“When I asked you to dinner. I said there was something I needed from you.”
Yeah, I remember. I remember the conversation so vividly it makes my stomach coil up just thinking about it.
“I want you eating the food I cook for you and afterward, I want you hot and sweaty in my bed, f**king me. I need to taste every inch of your body. I need to devour you.”
Flushing, I hug my chest. “Yes, I remember.”
Lucas pulls my arms away from my body, and pushes himself between my knees. He stares down at me, his face s.e.xy. Dangerous. “Are you in?” he asks, and I nod.
“Yes.”
A moment after that word rolls off my lips, he presses his thumb between my legs, circling my center through my panties. His tongue plunges into my mouth, as his finger alternates between slow and quick motions, each one leaving my senses more blurry. “You like this,” he says, and even though it’s not a question, I moan.
“Mmmhmm.”
His fingers slides into my panties, and watching my face carefully, he glides two inside of me. My body convulses around him. Before I can stop myself, my teeth slide together. Lucas bends, so that his mouth is next to my ear. To my disappointment, he pulls his hand away from my body. “Don’t grind your teeth, Sienna,” he growls.
“Yes,” I say in a husky voice that surprises even myself. “Lucas, I want—”
The buzzing noise starts up again, and he flinches, rolling off of my body. He sits on the edge of his bed with his back turned to me, and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. His head lowers, and I hear his finger gliding across the smooth screen. Cautiously, curiously, I watch as each of the muscles in his back go tight under all of his tattoos.
What the h.e.l.l is going on?
“Is everything alright?” I ask, and when he turns to me, a smirk replaces the look of desire that was there only moments before. My throat goes dry, but I manage to add, “Lucas?”
“I’m fine. Lie down.”
I shiver at the coolness in his voice, the sudden detachment in his movements, but I rest my back to the pillows, waiting for him to say or do something. Instead, he disappears into the adjoining bathroom. I hear Lucas shuffling around, and a moment later, he returns, dangling something shiny from the tip of his finger.
When he comes to the side of the bed, looking down at me, my heart skips a beat when I realize what he’s holding.
Handcuffs.
Terrifying, and very real, handcuffs.
I scoot away from him, my throat starting to constrict.
“Sienna,” Lucas says in a controlled voice. “I’m going to handcuff you.”
What the f**k?
Panic surfaces in the pit of my stomach, making its way up into my chest to suffocate me as I shake my head violently to each side. “No. I mean, you’re not going to make me—”
Holding up his hand, he cuts me off. “I can’t make you do s.h.i.t. You’re going to let me.”
I scramble off the bed to stand on the opposite side of him and cross my arms tightly over my chest. “No, I’m not.” And he can’t possibly expect me to. Not when I barely know him. Not when he has that a.s.s**le-ish look on his face.
Lucas’s hazel eyes glance from me to the handcuffs hanging on his finger. Finally, he tosses the metal to the center of the bed, and my body relaxes. “So I guess we’re—” I begin.
“Get the f**k out,” he growls.
I take a step backward, my chest clenching painfully. “What?”
This time, he speaks slowly, emphasizing each word, and it makes me feel like he’s shaking me as he does this. “Get the f**k out. I’m sure you know the way.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to respond, to demand an explanation for this complete 180 before he disappears into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. I stare after him for what seems like eternity, my stomach churning hard when I hear his shower turn on.