Page 50 of Luna

Lucien sighs and closes his eyes.

As I undo his pants, I can feel the room getting warmer. Like our bodies are already generating enough heat to fuel a furnace.

His cock is hard, and thick, and I find myself thinking that it is beautiful.

I study him for a moment, then I reach out and take him in my hand, stroking him slowly, savoring the feel of him in my palm.

Instinctively, I spit into my hand and use it to moisten his shaft.

I look up, and Lucien’s gaze collides with mine.

He is watchin me as if he has never seen anything so wonderful.

No one has ever looked at me like that.

He places one gentle hand on the back of my head but does not push me toward him. Just leaves it there as if he is reassuring me that I’m doing a good job.

I open my mouth and lick a slow, delicious line from the base of his cock to the tip. Then I swirl my tongue around him, tasting the first salty drop of pleasure.

He moans loudly, then mutters my name. Our eyes lock, and I can see the fire in his. Small sparkling freckles of crimson that dance in his gaze as he stares at me.

I slide a hand down between my legs.

He watches me for a moment, but when I start to move faster, he grabs my chin and stops me. “Not yet, kitten,” he says. “It is my job to make you purr.”

He pulls me up with a gentle force, and I follow his lead, my heart pounding, my body tingling with an almost unbearable heat.

His hand moves to my chest. His fingers trace the top of the bath towel to where it is tucked beneath my arm. Slowly, he flicks the fabric so it falls to the floor.

He stands back and admires me.

That is the only word for it... admiration.

And instead of feeling like I need to cover myself up, I let him stare. I watch his eyes trail over my breasts, my stomach, the swell of my hips, the roundness of my thighs. He signals with his finger for me to turn around.

I move in a slow circle, allowing him to see every last inch of my body.

When I am facing him again, he tells me to sit down.

“Right there, on the edge,” he says. But then he frowns. “Would you be more comfortable lying down?”

I open my mouth to reply but the answer quivers on my tongue. Why is it so hard to ask for what I want? Even when he is offering it to me? Why do I feel afraid to say the wrong thing? Even to a man who means nothing to me?

He doesn’t need me to answer. He scoops me effortlessly into his arms and sets me down in the middle of the bed. He props me up on the pillows then takes one and positions it under my lower back. I wriggle down just a little, and he smiles.

A real smile. As if he is truly pleased I am comfortable.

“Would you take off your clothes?” The question leaves my mouth before I have time to think about it. When Lucien smirks at me, I smile back. “I want to see you,” I whisper. “All of you.”

He is standing at the foot of the bed now. Nodding, he slides his black braces off his shoulders, then unfastens his shirt. When he takes it off, I feel my eyes widen. I sink back a little onto the pillows, staring at him.

His arms are toned and muscular, his chest and shoulders broad and perfectly sculpted. And there is the exact right amount of dark, tantalizing hair peppering his stomach. Leading down to his waistband, where his fingers are unfastening his belt.

Dropping his pants to the floor, he steps out of them and allows me to stare a moment longer before he crawls onto the bed and eases open my legs.

I stare down at him, amazed by the look of excitement on his face.

He holds my thighs apart, gently but with a strength that makes my breath catch in my chest.