Hour by Hour (Games & Diversions #2) (10 page)

“There’s more warmth in your eyes than in these walls. And that’s saying something… considering how much of an ice-cold bastard you are.”

I grin behind my cherry.

Lukas starts to round the counter. The air gets thin in the room.

“
Is that how you think of me
?” he asks, sauntering towards me. “As an ice-cold bastard?”

I shrug with more nonchalance than I feel.

“Bastard, yes. Ice-cold…?” I let the statement linger.

When he stops two feet away from me, I shake my head up at him. “No, not ice-cold.”

His smile is as white as his collared shirt. His eyes focus on my naked collarbone before his expression drops.

He reaches a thumb toward me. “Looks like someone in here is not ice-cold at all… You’re sweating.”

He brushes the pad of his thumb at the base of my neck. I flinch when his finger lands.

His skin isn’t just warm; it’s
hot
, the heat radiating off of his fingers in waves.

Yup. Definitely not ice-cold.

Or maybe it’s just me.

Everything about him seems to send shock waves through my system. I stare numbly as he withdraws his hand, rubbing the sweat from my body between his fingers.

God help me,
don’t let him snap those fingers. I’m a practically panting German Shepard over here, ready to take orders.

Elena, siiiiiit. Good girl! Here’s a treat. Would you like a bone…?

I stand up abruptly, flipping my cupcake face-down.

Lukas reaches out.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, su… no, everyth… I’m fine.” I clear my throat soundly.

“Do you have a bathroom where I can take a shower? I’m all hot and sweaty. I need to get out of these clothes.”

I regret the words the instant they slip through my teeth, biting down hard on my lip as if to contain what has already been spoken.

But it’s too late.

I catch the flash of recognition in Lukas’s eyes and he straightens up, inching across the massive kitchen counters without a word.

Before I know it, Lukas is wordlessly standing right before me—between my thighs, and I let my eyes take their greedy fill of him for the first time all night.

The urgency has returned, and all the patience that I felt not one minute ago has been thrown out of the window—replaced by a hunger that surpasses any physical reaction that I’ve ever known.

I’ve
never
wanted a man in this way.

I want his pleasure. I want his punishment.

I want it all.

It’s his special brand of reprimand—the kind that turns my surprised yelps into guttural moans.

That kind that makes me feel simultaneously sore and satiated.

A delicious pain. An
addicting
pain.

I crave it.

And Lukas can deliver it like no man I’ve ever known.

His hand creeps slowly under my jaw, tightening as he lowers his fingers. He grips the side of my neck.

Gently but insistently.

It is a possessive clutch, one that says “mine” without breathing a single word.

I answer the command with my body. I spread my legs.

Yes, Lukas.
Yours.

At my submission, that fire in Lukas—that quickened inferno that exploded in Roman candle-style the night that we met—is set
ablaze
.

He tightens his hold on me, placing his other hand up under my chin to pull me into him.

And we perform, what in
most
cultures would be considered, a kiss—but it is unlike any embrace that
I
have ever known.

It cannot be described by any word that signifies “desire.” To say that he possesses my mouth would be an understatement.

Lukas
devours
my kiss, fueling a flame in me that can’t be quenched, making every part of my body come alive.

His hands roam down my collar to cup my heavy breasts, his thumbs pressing and rubbing insistently through the thickly-lined silk that lies there.

Rubbing. Teasing.
Needling
.

He smiles against my lips before dropping his mouth to the dip at my neck.

I groan when he bites it, not noticing that his hands have lowered even further and are now making their way up and inside of my conservative black skirt.

My inhale is sharp when he slides a finger across my naked slit.

“No underwear?
Fuck
, Elena—what are you trying to do to me?”

I try to gasp out the words, barely breathing as his thumbs continue encircling the sensitive nub below my waist that stands at attention.

“I had to rush… earlier, and then… I…”

He keeps kissing my collar, speaking the words into my neck. I feel him grin.

“You know, I’m starting to think you enjoy punishment…”

And he’s right.
He’s so fucking right.

But do I let him know it?

“That’s what you think I want?” I breathe out.

“It’s not what I think you want,” Lukas rumbles deeply. “It’s what I
know
you do.”

“I know what it’s like for you… You go to sleep at night and wake up with a throb between your legs. When you daydream, you hear a voice in your ear that’s not there…

“You find yourself craving… something you can’t explain. Something you won’t even admit to yourself…

“I know how you feel, love, because I feel it, too.

“
Doesn’t make sense, does it?
To want something so maddening?”

I find my voice—exhaling.

“You start to think you’re going crazy…”I say.

“But the curiosity is
killing
you,” he finishes.

Lukas practically hums into my skin.

“It doesn’t
have
to make sense… No rules, Elena.
No rules
.”

As he speaks the words, he inhales harshly, bringing his face to mine.

But he doesn’t kiss me again.

He pulls suddenly at the buttons on my blouse, ripping them at the chest.

And suddenly we are in a race to remove our clothes, pushing and pulling at anything that has a button or zipper.

But we don’t even make it completely out of our outfits; we are still half-clothed as we meld into one, fucking shamelessly on the kitchen counter as our shirts hang off of us in tatters.

“Elena…”

Lukas breathes my name, sliding my bare ass across the granite and onto his cock as he pounds into my wetness.

I clutch at every inch of his skin I can find, digging my teeth and nails into the exposed parts of his powerful shoulders.

My moans are muffled echoes as he picks up pace, placing my thighs in his hands as he slides back and forth.

“God, the only thing better than the way you
taste
is the way you
feel
,” he groans into my ear.

He entangles a hand in my hair, bringing my face to his.

“And I don’t share, baby. Your pussy is
mine
.”

I try to respond; I
want
to explain tonight’s “date,” but it’s too late.

My voice is already screaming “yes,” telling Lukas whatever he wants to hear—whatever will maintain this sweet torture.

And I can’t stop.

I couldn’t stop myself from coming if I tried. I climax, feeling Lukas thicken inside of me as he nears his orgasm. I brace myself.

But he doesn’t reach it.

He pulls back, slowing the tempo as my body slips back down from its unbelievable high.

He continues to carry the weight of my wilting body, holding me upright, as I lay draped across his limbs.

He grabs for my face, pulling his lips to mine, reviving me with his kiss.

“I love the way your pussy feels,” he tells me, withdrawing slowly from my mouth. “And I
have
missed it, baby.”

He stares into my face, piercing me with a blazing green gaze.

“And I’ve missed
this
,” I reply humbly. “More than you know.”

“Good…
because it’s not over yet
.”

With my skirt hiked up and my legs straddling him, Lukas swings me from the counters to the wall, pushing me up against it while he bounces my aching body up and down on his perfect cock.

In and out. Back and forth.

I place my hands above my head, letting my cries ring loudly throughout the open kitchen.

His mouth trails towards my breasts, biting softly through my bra, soaking the white fabric at my nipples.

With every thrust, he slaps a bare hand across my ass, quickening his slow, steady strokes into a frenzy.

I hold onto his strong shoulders, soaking up every sensation along the ride.

Lukas fills me to the very brim. My orgasm is waiting for me on the other side.

I come again.

Fiercely.

And just when I think he’s done—when I think that my body cannot take any more pleasure,
he surprises me
—adding another title to his list of many.

Master of surprises.

Gorgeous bastard.

Owner of my pussy.

Lukas Griffin.

After him, I can
never
look at sex the same way again.

He turns me back to the granite-tops, flipping me over the counter.

I moan in utter abandonment as he enters me from behind.

“Lukas!” I cry.

He bends over me, whispering harshly into my ear. His words slip out on a partial groan, and I nearly climax when I hear them.

“You know, Elena… there’s
nothing
I love more than the sound of my name on your tongue.

“There are so
many
things of mine that I love on your tongue, baby…”

With a kiss to my shoulder, Lukas continues to pound perfectly into my willing body, and I fade gloriously out, slipping into a blissful oblivion.

***

The sound of footsteps stirs me from my temporary coma.

Consciousness has never felt so unwelcome.

I wake up from a glorious haze of after-sex, and when I come to, I dazedly awake to a clock chiming midnight and a half-naked Lukas.

His white button-down shirt lays crumpled at his feet; his unbuttoned pants hang loosely at his hips.

And me?

I am in complete disarray. My hair sits strewn across my head, and my limbs lie splayed across a black couch.

Did we fuck here as well?
I can’t even remember.

All I can remember is the sensation of
heat
.

Hot. Sticky.
Sweet
.

I moan into the fabric of the couch, recalling the feel of Lukas’s skin against me.

I try to bask in the glow of those sensations… but the heat I feel now is unbearable.

It’s too hot.

I turn over to find a blanket on my shoulders.
Lukas’s doing, of course.

He stands above me, smirking at my obvious discomfort.

“Hot?” he asks.

“You have no idea.”

He reaches down, removing the blanket from my body.

“I’m sorry I interrupted before you could shower.”

He grins wider.

“Yeah, you
look
sorry,” I quip.

At that, he laughs, warm and rich. Lukas leans into me, his hand heading for a bead of sweat near my brow.

I stop him.

That’s how we got into this mess in the first place.

I’d go for round two, but I don’t think I could survive it.

I’m a wreck, and Lukas, to me, looks better than when we started.

I’ve got to have a minute away from him.

“Ok, I definitely need that shower now,” I state, standing up.

He kisses my fingers. “I figured. My bathroom…”

“
Guest
bathroom,” I interrupt pointedly.

I expect a protest from Lukas, but find a smile instead.

He grins slowly at me, pointing over my shoulder.

“Yeah… guest bathroom’s down the hall and to the right. There are towels and cloths in the closet—robes on the shelves.”

He fingers the sleeve of my half-hanging shirt. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” He turns.